Within a week, Lacey Truman had masterminded a scheme to counter Gloria's expanding empire as a restauranteur as a possible rival to her bakery business. Her Infernal Affairs apprentices were dispatched to the Garden Heights Community Center in the City of Trussel the following Saturday.
"Gloria Vandergast thinks she's going to carve herself out a free reign of real estate with all her fingers in the pies of the city council," Lacey had outlined during the pitch meeting. The fluffy British-expat baker delicately took forkfuls of her gooseberry pie going over the con. "We're going to make anyone who's given her a business license eat their hat. Metaphorically speaking, of course. And sabotaging this cooking class is the way to do it."
Lacey herself was too much of a high profile figure to directly make an appearance at the community center. The calculating mistress of muffins was not against the idea of confronting Gloria directly. No no, there would be time for that later. Even when Lacey would be ready to make a personal attack against Gloria, it would be after this prolonged campaign that left the self-proclaimed #1 Kitchen Boss reeling from watching her own plans crumble beneath her. So Lacey would initially hang back after tasking her apprentices.
She had plenty to do, of course. She was growing displeased with the manager of her Ridgeway Drive location's perceived lack of motivation, as a backseat baker delegating their duties to all the other workers. The Hangford Lane location needed updated decor. Then there was her second morning show appearance in as many days on a second network. Plus, alongside her new fall frostings, Lacey was experimenting up a full baker's dozen varieties of a new take on scones. Although for Lacey, a "Baker's Dozen" tended to add up to 16 rather than 13 in terms of what she would munch on with cooking.
Thus, her crew for this caper brought Alicia and Henrietta to the site of the impending first of Gloria Vabdergast's community driven, homeless shelter supporting cooking class. At least, that's how it all appeared on paper. Classes were still $50 bucks per individual.
"I look horrible," Henrietta moaned, crouched to peer into the side mirror of a random car in the parking lot. She wasn't used to the glasses, nor the change of makeup or the long black hair of her wig. The tackiness of her outfit was continued payment for Lacey's displeasure during the spy briefing. Grinding her teeth, the mirror reflected the false braces she was forced to wear. She ran her tongue over them.
"If you keep prodding them they're going to fall off," Alicia warned, threading her blonde ponytail through the back of a pink baseball cap.
"Why do you get to dress so comfy?" Henrietta whined. "You look like a mom of two toddlers. Or a tee-ball coach."
"Gee, thanks," Alicia replied snidely. Lacey's top test baker wasn't as keen on an undercover assignment, if only for the untold possibility of risk. Still, her persona was much better than what Henrietta had been landed. Alicia had the pink ball cap, grey unzipped pullover, purple shirt, jeaggings and track sneakers that gave her a pre-millenium, family oriented female like a young mother or cool aunt.
"I've never had a goth phase!" Henrietta exclaimed, standing to her full height. Being the girl-next-door type, Henrietta didn't give the best new impression in this new guise. It was like your ugly stepsister, that really weird kid everybody would make fun of at the lunchroom at school, decided the hip new thing to do was "dress goffic" and came out the other side as a dropped pilot character for cult TV favorite Ugly Betty. Henrietta was pressed into a corduroy plaid vest, fishnets, a tight belt with chains, long skirt and ripped red nylons. She walked with unsteady gait on her platform boots. Her added poundage kept a large enough roll of (albeit veiled) puppy fat added to Henrietta's new portly frame. As added punishment, Lacey forced her to keep the belt tight to curb wayward snacking. Henrietta wasn't about to make Lacey angry again, as the followup belt had a lock on it.
"Why am I the one that has to parade around in this getup?"
"I couldn't tell you," Alicia said with mocking disdain. "Maybe because you're the one who spent six months working at Gloria's company? And you wouldn't want her to recognize you. Right, 'Millicent'."
'Millicent' sighed, as her fellow operative had a point. "Right, 'Jolene.' "
"Right, so put up with it and stick to the plan. We still have to rendevouz with Quince." Jolene (Alicia for these purposes) checked her watch.
"'Ello, 'ello." Came a catcall greeting a low whistle as the last of the undercover operatives arrived in a pickup truck. "Look what the cat dragged in. Nice tatts, moon pie."
"Oh shut up Quince," the put upon spy crossed her arms over her belted belly bulge. "They're sleeved."
"That's Peter for you the next five weeks," replied Quince. Himself a former Londonite, an Eastender from a family with a milling background, Quince had jumped across the pond to eventually wind up as one of Lacey's delivery drivers at the bakery. Having a thinly shaved head and beard, as in 8 o'clock shadow, he was wearing jeans an a layered band tee. "Looking pretty cush there, 'Jolene,' you should dress casually mo' often. How about we get cozy during this designated time off?"
"Just cut down on the fraternizing while we're in character," Alicia said. "Remember, today is about establishing routine. We're to break Gloria slowly over her teaching efforts, maybe cast suspicion on the other attendees."
"Easily done, luv," Quince said with pride. "Haven't cooked mor' than bangers and mash in me life."
"Seriously?" Henrietta sighed. Alicia had the top cooking talent of the three, as her primary role was that of test baker. Henrietta had originally gotten her apprenticeship for her doughnuts, plus she had picked up on a few other things during her time undercover at other kitchens.
"It's like Lacey said," Alicia reminded. "We've got cooking expertise to enact the subtle complications, and it would be more authentic to have a truly horrendous cook for other issues."
"Guilty as charged!" Quince said.
"Well don't force us to need a quick set of wheels on the first day," Alicia warned. "I'm going in first. Give me several minutes before you come inside."
Alicia, Quince & Henrietta in turn entered the community center as Jolene, Peter, & Millicent, respectively, over the next several minutes. Various people had come out to learn cooking from a certified big name chef. There was Gloria's local fans, retirees, one trendy couple looking only for the prestige, and other types among the attendants. The Infernal Affairs operatives spent time mingling about to establish their disparate identities. Regrettably for Millicent, who was having the hardest time making acquaintances, she was stuck with a work station two over from Peter. As even more of a virtual unknown to their mark than even Alicia, he kept up the same obnoxious personality he usually had, having signed under his middle name.
"Welcome, aspiring cooks!" Gloria introduced the class to titters of applause from the collected students. "Aprons on!" The corpulent chef was decked to the nines today. Even the rich couple and Millicent looked to be underdressed. Impractical garb for the kitchen, but then this was more of a class setting. Given the intelligence of the schemes Gloria had behind her charitable classes, all of this was more for show.
"How many of you have been to culinary school? Show of hands." Gloria noticed a few hands, and a woman in the front row with a pink ball cap looking off to the side. "I'm sorry for your wasted effort!" Gloria had a belly laugh at her own joke, launching into a demonstration. "I learned more from six months of restaurant management then I did two years of culinary school. But I will admit the most important lesson they start you with is how to perfectly crack an egg."
A quick glancing strike on her bowl and the innards dropped in with the eggshells still her hand. "So we're going to practice in preparation for my signature spinach and bacon omelettes. And perhaps my southwest eggs benedict, if we have the time."
So the first lesson was literally how to crack an egg? Jolene found herself making an effort not to do so as skillfully the first few attempts. There were plenty of clumsy first attempts across the board. Gloria demonstrated how the yolk could be separated from the white with just the shell, as she went from station to station making corrections.
"No, no, no, if you're going to use your thumbs you don't want them going into the yolk." Gloria paused in front of the chubby goth girl standing bow-legged behind the counter. She seemed oddly familiar. "Have we met before?"
"No, Mz Gloria. Uh, Vandergast." Sweat was trickling down the back of 'Millicent's' neck given the thick wig. The ruse would be blown if Gloria caught on.
A harsh sizzle snapped Gloria's attention down the line. "No! Don't just drip it on the hot pan, you're scorching it!"
By the end of the class, Peter (aka Quince) was only the second worst chef given the hapless teenager who had nearly ruined the pan with the egg scalding. Altogether, Gloria had looked to have taken a lot onto her plate hosting these classes, even before the operations of the secret saboteurs in the flock continued.
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