Baker Zero
Day of Lightness, 314-2835, era of the fallen world The floury, crusty scourge had rampaged through the world. There was no saving everyone. The only thing possible, was vengeance and holding the first Baker accountable.
“Alpha Team, what’s your position?” A middle aged male voice came from the radio.
“All enemies cleared. Closing in on the inner compound.” Tyler responded with a suppressed voice: “How does it look outside?”
“No disturbance.” The voice responded: “Proceed. Be careful.”
The floor of the compound was littered with white dust. The ground was not entirely solid but somewhat bouncy. If anyone stepped harder it could even crack. Dough, the entire inner compound was made of dough and crust. The white dust was just flour, it was everywhere, even in the air. This was the reason they could only bring non-firearms, any spark of bright fire could trigger an explosion that would end everyone present.
“Clear. ” “Clear.” “Sonic blast device deployed.” The other team members had secured the other entries and exits to this place, “Lieutenant, we’re ready to go.”
“Alpha Team in position, ready to unveil Baker Zero.” Tyler reported through the radio.
The door was made of thick crust and the locks were made of dried noodles - spaghetti or bucatini, Tyler could not tell. It did not matter either way, for it was only a pineapple concentrate spray and one forceful kick away from being reduced to a sticky, non-hindering mess.
“Boom!” The thick, lasagna-like door was down with just one kick. Tyler and his second hand man Kim charged in with their hand-crossbows and pineapple concentrate packet launchers held high.
“Down on the ground! Down on the ground!” Tyler roared at the top of his lungs: “You’re under arrest, Baker Zero!”
Two tall men completely made of dough and wielding dough battle axes tried to attack Tyler and Kim, but their entire upper bodies were blasted into wet pieces of dough on the ground by pineapple concentrate.
“Alright there, Baker Zero!” Kim turned his hand crossbow at the masked and cloaked figure standing behind an experiment table: “Raise your hands, and take off your mask slowly! NOW!”
The masked figure raised his two short arms and took off his mask. The gloves each had five fingers but somehow he used only two on each hand.
The mask fell. It was not what either Tyler or Kim expected. It was not a mad scientist. No crazy hair, no thick glasses. The head was bald but not from hair loss, but from its own reasons. Baker Zero was a crab. Its mouthparts were vibrating, making a chittering voice.
“Please no shoot.” The crab let out a man’s voice, with some kind of stereotypical Asian accent: “I make bread and pizza here. Me no guilty!”
“What the fuck?!” Kim turned his face at Tyler: “A crab that talks? What - how?”
Tyler searched through his memories before something shot into his mind: “Egao the crust maker. I thought you were dead?!”
Kim’s finger on the trigger tightened, he even pointed the pineapple concentrate launcher at the crab. It was unexpected but not a huge surprise. The reclaimed records from the fallen Illuminati facilities mentioned it. Apparently, it was the one who crafted the dough men recipes, dozens of them, all for different uses and textures, using only humans, flour, water and spices.
“Drop the act, Egao. Illuminati agents recorded full and fluent conversations with you. You are not fooling anyone.” Tyler landed a bolt on the table in front of the crab before reloading: “Are you ready to pay for what you’ve done?”
“No - no - me no understand. Me poor clab. Me poor clab making pasta. Me aflaid.” The crab’s mouth began foaming, its arms were shaking.
“Drop the fucking act, you fucking seafood! ” Tyler barked: “How the hell did you survive!? ”
“And tell us how to undo the dough scourge.” Kim tried to calm the situation down a bit: “You are the first recipe maker. You must know how to stop the multiplication of those dough men.”
The crab’s face dimmed, then it sighed. Neither Tyler nor Kim knew how a crab did that but it just did.
“Alright, alright. Please, humans.” The crab laid back on its chair, took a breadstick from the table and started chewing it. Its accent lessened, there was still some lingering but it was way less offensive and cartoony. “Killing me won’t solve anything. There’s no undoing it. They have mastered how to multiply already.”
Tyler fired his hand crossbow and knocked off the crab’s left arm. The crab squirmed for a brief moment but instantly settled down.
“You know - many did that to me before. ” The crab’s voice was hoarse, yet still calm: “They took my arm, tossed me back into the water, then sold it to some bozo who can’t even make a stew. This doesn’t even hurt any more.”
“Why are you making more dough men? ” Kim asked, even his hands were trembling.
“Do you know how hard it is to be a crab in a human-dominated world?” The crab picked up another breadstick: “Do you know how much crab you humans eat each year? How many crabs lose their arms each year? How many of us die from your lotions and ointments?”
“No - and I don’t care.” Tyler shot off the crab’s remaining arm: “Tell us anything you know on stopping the dough men, or how to combat them effectively. Or we don’t mind having a crab stew tonight.”
The crab sighed, before raising its two eyes at Tyler and Kim: “DO IT! NOW!”
Sudden and debilitating itchiness struck both of them at the crotch. They lost grip of their weapons and dropped to the ground, kicking and scratching. The crab hopped from its booster seat and out of its faux coat, scurrying into the shadows of the compound.
“Why don’t you try marinara, you monkeys!?” The crab’s voice resounded in the dough compound.