You boys ready to do some cookie-baking?

Mike: (Shrugs) Sure, 'long as I don't do the actual cookin'.

Peter: This will be fun!

Micky: I'm ready!

Davy: Me, too, mates.

(We open in the kitchen at the Pad. Micky's at the stove, leaning over bags of flour,sugar, and chocolate chips, jars of spices, cannisters of baking powder and shortening, boxes of baking soda, and little containers of multi-colored sprinkles and colored sugar crystals.)

Mike: (Hands Micky the butter from the refrigerator) How did we get talked into this again?

Micky: Because we prefer staying OUT of the the doghouse.

Mike: Em knows I ain't no cook, though.

Micky: True, but she also knows there's other things you can do to help.

Peter: (As he joins them) You can cut the sugar cookies and drop the chocolate chip cookies on a pan. If we let Micky do that, he'll eat them.

Mike: Good point.

Davy: And that would be included in those other things she knows you can do.

Peter: Micky and I will do the actual mixing, You guys can handle the dropping, cutting, and putting in the oven.

Mike: Sounds good to me. Em said she'd make another batch of sugar cookies and the Merry Christmas Molasses Cookies with the kids when they got back. They love decoratin' these things.

Peter: So Micky, why don't we start in with the chocolate chip cookies?

Mike: (Grabs the bag of chocolate chips from Micky, whose hands are already covered in brown goo) If we have any left after someone started eatin' them!

Micky: Hey, gotta try them to make sure they're good!

Mike: Davy already checked the bag for freshness!

Peter: Here, Micky. You start the sugar cookies, then. I'll start the chocolate chips. They don't take as long.

Micky; I'm on it!

(An instrumental "Good King Wenceslaus" plays in the background as Peter begins mixing the chocolate chip cookies. He adds sugar and shortening to his cookies, then hands the sugar over to Micky for his cookies.)

(Mike pulls out all the cookie pans.)

(Peter makes sure Micky's not trying to take snitches of his own dough.)

(Mike and Davy clear the table and set up the sugar crystals and pans.)

(Peter reaches for the bag of chocolate chips...and is surprised to feel someone reaching for it at the same time...)

*Micky grins, wiggling his fingers at Peter.*

(Peter hands the bowl of chocolate chip batter to Mike to spoon onto the pans, then turns to Micky. How's the sugar cookies coming?)

*Micky gives him a thumbs-up.*

(Mike spoons dough onto the first pan as Peter mixes the next batch.)

(When the mixing's done, Peter pulls out a Tupperware container filled with cookie cutters of various sizes and shapes.)

(Peter hands a rolling pin to Micky. Here you go.)

*Micky nods and starts rolling out dough.*

(Peter moves out of the way with a bowl of batter as Mike slides the first batch into the oven.)

(Mike leans over Micky. How's cutting the cookies comin'?)

*Micky motions to a whole bunch of cut cookies on a tray.*

(Mike grins and brings the tray over to Davy as the song ends.)

*Nyles wanders in, sniffing the air.*

Peter: (As he mixes chocolate chip cookie batter) Hi, Nyles. How are you?

Mike: Where's Jessie, shoppin'?

Peter: What brings you here, other than your nose?

Nyles: Yeah, Jessie's shopping and I'm hungry.

Mike: You can have two chocolate chip cookies. We're givin' the rest out as presents.

Nyles: Ain't that a little cheap, guys?

Mike: Talk to Em. She loves givin' out cookies. Says it cuts down on the presents we have to buy, and people appreciate gettin' home-made stuff as much as the stuff you get from the mall.

Peter: Besides, I'd rather get Em's cookies than anything from a store. She makes good cookies.

Nyles: I think I'm gonna! *takes his two cookies and heads out*

Peter: We're probably lucky he only took too. Usually when he comes here, he clears out the refrigerator.

Mike: Tell me about it. (Sniffs; eyes widen) Yipes! I smell burnin' cookies!

(He quickly pulls on oven mitts, yanks the oven open, and pulls out the cookies! He fans his hands over them.)

Peter: (Gingerly picks up a cookie and sighs) They aren't too bad, Michael. Just a little black on the bottoms.

Micky: They're better that way!

Mike: Ok, then. You and Lauren can have these for Christmas.

(Mike puts the batch of over browned cookies aside on a plate of their own.)

Micky: Thank you!

Mike: Just don't let Em see 'em. We can always make more.

Peter: (As he spoons more chocolate chip batter) How's the sugar cookies, Dave? Ready to go in the oven?

Davy: Spooning out the last one as we speak.

Peter: I hope these come out right. Sugar cookies can be awfully finicky. They burn easily, break easily, and can make a real mess.

Davy: We can always feed Mick whatever doesn't turn out right.

Mike: Yeah, but we've gotta have somethin' to give away, too. If there ain't nothin' left by the time the girls and the kids get back, Em will have a fit...and probably my head, too.

Micky: Well, there has to be some way we can avoid that...

Al: *Comes in* Hey, fellas. What are you up to?

*Micky gives the other three a wide grin, looking like the cat who ate the canary.*

Peter: Oh, hi Al. Glad to see you.

Mike: Yeah, I'm glad you can cater the New Year's party this year.

Al: Happy to! You guys have been some of my best customers.

Mike: We're workin' on cookies for my wife to give as presents.

Peter: You're a professional cook. What do you think of them?

Al: Well, first, do you want me to ignore that burnt smell lingering in here?

Mike: Um, that was the last chocolate chip cookie batch. We ended up givin' it to Mick.

Peter: (As he slides two pans of sugar cookies into the oven) Nyles came by and smelled cookies.

Al: *Leans over the other finished cookies* They definitely smell good, but just from looking at them, I think you have the temperature set too high.

Mike: (Blushing; turns down the temperature) Oh.

Peter: (Sighs) Michael, you turned on the stove!

Mike: I thought it would bake 'em faster!

Al: Sorry, Mike, but it doesn't work that way. It only ends in darker cookies.

Mike: (Makes a face) I told you guys I ain't no good at bakin'.

Peter: (Sighs) No, you're just impatient. The temperatures are listed for a reason. That's how hot the oven needs to be for the cookies to bake right.

Mike: I really wasn't made for cookin'.

Al: You just need practice, Mike.

Peter: Well, consider this practice, then. (He nods at Davy's sugar-covered creations) How do the sugar cookies look?

Al: *Looks at the sugar cookies* They look sugary.

Davy: Why doesn't that sound like a compliment?

Al: They're coated. I know SOME people like that. *glances at Micky* But to be safe, half as much sugar is preferable.

Peter: (Shrugs) Davy and Micky were doing the sugar cookies.

Mike: (As he pulls out the sugar cookies, which are fine) How do these look? They ain't burnt, I know that much. (Sets them down on the towels on the counter.)

Al: Sprinkle some cinnamon on top while still warm instead of that colored sugar, and you'll have some real winners here.

Mike: These already have the sugar, but we could do that with the next batch.

Peter: (Shrugs) Besides, the kids like the colored sugar, and some of these are going to families with children.

Al: Try to get them into the cinnamon. They won't bounce off the walls so badly with less sugar.

Davy: We should've done that for Mick's batch.

Peter: We'll just top the next batch with cinnamon. Where is Micky, anyway?

Davy: Oh for the love of...

Mike: Mick! Get in here! Don't you dare poke around for presents!

Micky: *Ducks back in* I wasn't poking for presents!

Mike: Then where were you, China?

Micky: No.

Peter: Come on, Mick. We need you to finish cutting the sugar cookies, so Davy can cover them with cinnamon.

Micky: I'm cutting! *grabs a metal cutter*

Al: No plastic cutters?

Micky: No...

Mike: Em says she likes the metal ones better. She inherited some of these from her mom and her grandma.

Al: *Sighs* Alright, I'll let that slide. Besides, the older ones were stronger anyway.

Mike: (Holds up a cutter shaped like a lion) This came from her mom and her mom's mom. You ain't gonna find cookie cutters shaped like lions for Christmas.

Al: Uh, no. No, you won't.

Mike: (Holds up another shaped like a crown) I like this one. There should be more royalty at Christmas.

Peter: The kids like those, too. They like to make the lion try to wear the crown.

Micky: And why not? The lion's the king of the jungle!

Mike: You know, the lion will probably look better with a cinnamon mane anyway.

Peter: (He puts in a batch of chocolate chip) How's cutting the cookies coming, guys?

Mike: (Hands Davy his pan) I'm done.

Davy: These're looking better already.

Mike: (Leans over Davy) Yeah. We can give these to the kids. The Abbies and Martians and anyone who doesn't have kids to get riled up can have the colored sugar ones.

Peter: (He mixes another bowl of chocolate chip cookies) This will be the last batch of chocolate chip.

Mike: We should be comin' to the end of the sugar cookies, too.

Al: Looks like you have pretty good control over the cookies. *checks his watch* Oh shoot, I'm late for meeting Giselle! I've gotta go! See you later fellas! *leaves quickly*

Mike: Giselle. That must be his new woman.

Peter: Sounds like he's really into her.

Mike: Well, she looked like she beat the heck out of Zelda when we saw her at the parade.

Micky: Sounds like she's got him whipped.

Mike: And he's lovin' it.

Davy: Every moment of it.

(Emma and Lauren walk in at this moment with their kids. Mike discreetly pushes the batch of burnt chocolate chip cookies behind the stand mixer.)

Emma: Hi, boys. (Smiles at the almost-finished cookies) Oh, those look nice! Decided to try something different with the sugar cookies?

Micky: Uh, yeah, we had a helpful hint that we decided to try.

Emma: (Sniffs; frowns) Why do I smell burnt cookies? (Nods at the baked sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies) These seem to be fine.

Mike: Dunno, darlin'. Maybe you're smellin' the neighbors. (He picks up the burnt cookies and, with them still behind his back, tries to pass them over to Micky before Emma sees them.)

Emma: Baby, what are you hiding from me?

Mike: Me, hidin' somethin'?

Peter: I don't see anything.

Emma: Please. I know how you feel, remember...and right now, you're nervous. What are you hiding?

Mike: I ain't hidin' nothin'. Stop bein' paranoid! I... (suddenly, there's a very, very loud belch from behind Mike.)

Emma: I hope someone says "excuse me."

*Micky turns, grinning innocently.*

Micky: Excuse me.

Lauren: *Shakes her head* Mick...

(We fade out on Micky's sheepish grin and the now-empty plate that once held burnt cookies.)