The next day, the girls were back at Madeline's house, helping her take care of the sick Veronique. That day, they wore their hospital masks along with rubber gloves. Skye and Andrea wore some goggles just in case. The girls were running around in the kitchen, cooking soup as they could hear Veronique from upstairs screaming for soup and ringing a bell vigorously.
"Man, she crazy," commented Andrea, shaking a bottle of paprika into the hot pot of soup.
"I told you she was out of her mind," said Madeline as she chucked black pepper into the pot.
"No, you didn't," said Skye, opening the top cabinets. "You said that she had P.M.S."
"It's the same thing, Skye."
"Well, you should've said she got P.P.M.M.S.S."
"What's that?" asked Lizzie.
Skye didn't respond. She just rolled her eyes.
"Soup!" screamed Veronique from the bedroom. "Where's my soup?"
"Why does she gotta be so loud?" questioned Andrea.
"Is the soup almost done?" Madeline asked Debra.
"Yeah, it is just about done," answered Debra, stirring the soup on the stove with a wooden spoon.
Skye grabbed a white bowl and placed it on top of a silver tray. Debra turned off the heat of the stove. She picked up the pan by the handles and carefully poured the soup into the bowl.
"Spoon!" shouted Madeline.
Lizzie pulled out two drawers from the counter. One of them had eating utensils so she grabbed a spoon from that drawer.
"Spoon," Lizzie repeated.
She passed it to Skye and Skye stuck it in the bowl. She picked the tray up by the handles and began carrying it out of the kitchen. She walked upstairs, hearing Veronique's hollers for soup getting louder and louder. She walked as fast as she could down the hall then entered the bedroom.
"Where's my soup?" Veronique screamed, ringing a handheld golden bell.
"Here's your soup," said Skye, walking over to the bed. She laid it down on the space of the bed right next to Veronique.
"I don't like that kind of soup."
"But you were screaming, begging for soup."
"Yeah but I don't like that kind of soup."
Skye picked up the spoon, getting some soup in it. "Listen, just taste it and maybe you'll change your mind."
"No, I don't want to."
"Just eat it, Veronique." Skye stuck the spoon in Veronique's face.
Veronique buried her face in the pillow. "No!"
"Veronique, come on."
The girls shouted at each other, spatting different arguments at the same time, with Skye trying to force the spoon into Veronique's face. Eventually, Veronique swatted the spoon out of Skye's hand, spilling a bit of soup on the bed. Then she pushed the tray off, spilling hot vegetable soup all over Skye's clothes. Skye stood up and gasped from the tingling, scorching pain overcoming her stomach and legs.
"Oh!" Skye shuddered. "Oh, I'm gonna kill you, you crusty croissant."
Andrea entered the room, holding a box of tissues, right when Veronique pushed the soup on Skye's body. So she was just in time to run up to Skye and hold her back by the arms. Skye struggled a little bit, tensing up with anger and ache.
"Hey, hey, hey," said Andrea. "What's going on?"
"Are you kidding?" said Skye, opening her hands. "That little gremlin spilled soup on me. I cannot feel my legs right now."
"You barely have legs, stubby," commented Veronique.
"Now she's calling me short. Let me at her, Andy! She's calling me short."
"You've been short," reminded Andrea. "It's not much of a surprise. Why don't you just go downstairs and help the girls with the soup? And remember: this is all for the money."
Skye freed herself from Andrea's grip. "Fine," she said with a strong look. She began to walk away. "My money better come with three zeros. Three!" She exited the bedroom.
"Hey, Dora," said Veronique.
Andrea looked at her. "It's Andrea. Yes?"
"Did you get my tissues?"
"Of course, I did." Andrea placed the box in Veronique's hands.
"They're not pink."
"I know. They were out of the pink tissues."
"Then why did you get me white?"
"Because they were out of the pink tissues."
Veronique threw the box in Andrea's face. Andrea caught it but it still hit her. "You better go to another store and buy me pink tissues!" Veronique demanded. "And while you're at it, buy some pink toilet paper. I refuse to use the white toilet paper in the bathroom but I need to wipe my derriere."
Andrea muttered to herself while walking away, "You need to wipe your face. That's where your actual derriere is."
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