“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” Sir Taco asked Candii as they put on their aprons and took an inventory of the cookware available on the show floor kitchen. “I have a weird feeling about this.”

“I don’t have a choice. The prize for winning the competition is the unicorn pearl. We either win this thing or risk it being given to someone else.” Candii felt weak on her knees and took a moment to compose herself. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Your condition does seem rather unusual. I’ve never known you to get motion sick,” Thad Penguino said.

Candii waved them away. “I think I’m just exhausted from this trip, that’s all. Let’s just get cooking!”

The announcer stepped onto the stage and shook Sir Taco's hand. “Thank you for joining us on the stage of Stadium Kitchen today, folks. What was your team name again? Sorry, I forgot.”

Sir Taco scratched his head. “We’re the world-famous band, The Non-Traditional Key Gullz. You’ve really never heard of us?”

“I don’t listen to music, sorry. So, any questions before we begin?”

Key Gullz pushed Sir Taco out of the way. “Just one. How do we win again?”

“You must cook a dish for our three mystery judges behind that veiled raised platform over there. During the competition, they will reveal clues regarding their hunger preferences for today. Whoever gets the most votes for their overall meal wins.”

“So you’re telling me we’re cooking for three people and we don’t even know what they like?”

“Are you sure you’ve never seen this show before? Like, everyone knows Metal Chef,” the announcer scoffed.

Sir Taco pushed Key Gullz behind him. “You could say we’re not from around here. I guess Metal Chef has a limited reach.”

The announcer sneered at the jab. “If you’ll excuse me.” The announcer stepped off the kitchen spring trap and walked toward the crowd. “Are you ready?”

The crowd cheered.

“In three…two…one…go!”

The lights facing the crowd went dim and the band felt as if they and the culinary duo Morty and Rashad, on a spring trap platform next to them, were the only people in the world.

Rashad walked his way over to the band. In a strangely gruff Jersey voice, he said, “Hey guys, thanks for being good sports and agreeing to come on down here. I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

Right behind him, short Morty skipped on over and followed up with a fittingly high-pitched, manic voice. “Yeah! Enjoy the free flight and pool party! Yeah!”

“We have work to do, gentlemen. Now if you don’t mind?” Thad Penguino shooed them away.

“So, what’s on the menu?” Key Gullz asked with three chopsticks and a whisk in her hands.

Candii thought for a moment. “Until we get any clues, I say we play it safe and start preparing rice and broccoli as our sides.”

Everyone agreed and they began boiling water and chopping vegetables. The band was well on their way when the announcer’s voice came over the loudspeaker again.

“What’s that on the big screens up above? Our first set of clues!” Icons appeared for fish, broccoli, chocolate, and a fig. “Can our chefs incorporate these suggestions from the judges to capture their votes?”

“This menu is stressing me out!” Key Gullz cried. “Do you guys mind if I set a little beat while I cook?”

“I think I can chop and whistle at the same time, too,” Thad Penguino said.

“I’ve handled a pot and hummed. Let’s do it!” Candii nodded.

“Leave the vocals to me,” Sir Taco said. “Just don’t expect me to taste test because my mouth will be busy!”

“Thanks guys!” Key Gullz smiled as she tapped her spoons on make-shift bowl drums. “Let’s dedicate this one to the judges and whatever the heck they want.”

Begin Any Way You Want It by Journey

INTRODUCTION & VERSE 1

Any … things!

“Fish, broccoli, chocolate, and a fig?” Candii wondered. “Thad Penguino, weren’t you a chef once?”

“That was a long time ago, Candii. I’m not sure if I still have it in me.” Thad Penguino did some quick search engine research and wrote down a brief menu based on those ingredients. The band checked it out and it seemed reasonable. “I mean, this might work, but I don’t know.”

“This looks amazing! What do we need to do?” Candii asked.

PRE-CHORUS

Ooh … tight!

Thad Penguino said, “There’s still more clues to come, so we need to limit how much we rely on these items. Let’s chocolate coat some figs. Then, deep fry the fish, chop it up, and mix it with the rice and broccoli.”

“Killer plan!” Key Gullz smiled. “I’m getting hungry already!”

CHORUS

Any … it!

The band grabbed handfuls of ingredients from the shared pantry.

Sir Taco chopped ginger and measured the spices.

Key Gullz cleaned a fish and dropped it in the fryer.

Thad Penguino made a chili sauce and sliced lemons.

Candii dipped the figs in chocolate and plated them.

“Fabuloso!” Candii admired.

VERSE 2

I … things!

“Another set of clues!” the announcer interrupted. “What could they be?” The screens above displayed a pickle, orange juice, a strawberry, and chili pepper.

“Good,” Thad Penguino nodded. “We already have the chili. Let’s deep fry the pickle as well and mix an orange-strawberry lemonade.”

PRE-CHORUS

Ooh … tight!

The band chopped away furiously, minding their own business, when the other chef, Morty, wandered over to their station from the shadows and swiped their salt without them noticing.

Candii heard the crowd laughing, but she did not know why.

CHORUS

Any … it!

“Pass me the salt, please,” Key Gullz asked.

“Shoot, I can’t find it anywhere!” Sir taco said, peeking under pots.

“We need that salt!” Thad Penguino said. “Keep looking!”

The band frantically overturned their stations but nobody could find the salt.

“What are we going to do?” Key Gullz asked.

INSTRUMENTAL

♫♫♫

“I’m so confused! I know it was just here!” Candii said.

She opened every cabinet, checked underneath every cooking utensil to no avail.

BRIDGE

She … on!

Thad Penguino yelled suddenly, “Hold on! I got an idea!”

He took a napkin and jotted down a plan to extract salt from the pickles.

INSTRUMENTAL

♫♫♫

Using a magical process called reverse osmosis purifying ultraviolet carbon filtering distilled and fermented desalination, a technique Thad Penguino had picked up during a brief stint as a short-order cook, they were able to extract pure salt from the pickles.

CHORUS x4

Oh … it!

The announcer boomed one last time. “Just one ingredient this time? You know what that means! It’s a Priority Ingredient that must be incorporated!”

The screens revealed black licorice!

“What? That is insane!” Thad Penguino said. “How are we supposed to incorporate such a strong flavor this late? It’s sure to bleed into anything we combine it with.”

Candii spied on the other chefs and saw they had already prepared a licorice themed dessert. A box of licorice and a handwritten note sat behind their station.

“Curse you, announcer!” Candii cried. She shook her fists into the sky. “This whole thing was rigged!”

Everyone turned to Thad Penguino, who was sweating bullets. The pressure and the lights seemed brighter. He took a deep breath to calm himself, but then it breathed an idea into his mind. “Give me a unicorn pearl!”

Candii reached into her pocket and handed him a unicorn pearl. He rubbed it on a rope of black licorice. He tried the candy and it was incredibly mild. “Use this as a lemonade straw!”

They cut up the rope and put a licorice straw in every strawberry-orange lemonade. A buzzer sounded. The competition was over. The band felt the platform underneath shudder. Their stomachs dropped. The spring trap apparatus was being prepared for possible use.

End Any Way You Want It by Journey

The announcer spoke over the loudspeaker. “My fair audience, it’s time for the judging! Let me introduce our judges. Our first judge loves all things citrus and writes lyrics to express that love! Please welcome Orangello T. Money!” The far-left veil on the judge’s stage lifted and revealed a rapper, who apparently was also a food connoisseur. He waved smoothly.

“Where there’s food, there’s fire. And that means we have to have everyone’s favorite emergency responder, Fire Chief Shannon!” The center veil lifted and a smiling lady waved to the crowd.

“Lastly, there’s no way we could tape an audience special without a very special guest who earned her place in the history books as the very first audience all-star.” The crowd cheered in pandemonium. “That’s right! I can tell you know who it is! I am proud to announce last season’s winner of the Audience Tournament, Queen Morgana Malevolent!” The last veil lifted and Morgana stood, waving to the crowd and blowing a kiss to the band.

She waved her hand and floated a microphone to her. “Thank you very much. I’m happy to be back to uphold the integrity of all home cooks who dare challenge our magnificent Metal Chefs.”

Candii gasped. “This is the most biased farce I’ve ever had the displeasure to be a part of!”

Studio stagehands carted the two side’s food to the judge’s table and served the meal by Metal Chefs Morty and Rashad first.

Orangello took the first bite. “Mmm. Dawg, the broccoli is perfectly tender. I always enjoy a light seasoning too.”

Chief Shannon spooned a red dish. “I can tell you really turned up the heat with this main course. I’m all about heat so this dish has a thumbs up from me.”

Morgana slipped a forkful of poultry into her mouth and slowly curled her smile. “Mmm, yes. This is simply divine. I couldn’t possibly ask for anything more. Don’t you agree, Orangello?”

“I do have to agree with you, dawg. This is the high-level cuisine we should expect from two Metal Chefs.”

Morgana held her nose up. “Then, I propose we end this competition right now. There is no point in trying whatever those dubious blobs are on the other plates. Don’t you agree?” She put her fork down on her plate and shot a wry glance at the band.

“Hold the fire, Morgana,” Chief Shannon interrupted. “I didn’t come here today to leave on a half-full stomach. I’m fully committed to trying both dishes.”

“Yeah, me too, dawg.”

The camera turned toward her and zoomed in. Morgana saw her face enlarged on the big screen. Her stomach audibly growled. Her smile melted away as she irritatingly resigned to their wishes. “Very well. I suppose I’m still a little peckish.”

The stagehands then served the dishes created by the band.

First, they tried the chili-fish and broccoli main course with the fried pickle on the side.

“This is spicy!” Fire Chief Shannon cried. “Somebody call my station because I feel a red-hot love sparking for this dish!”

“I find the fish perfectly cooked and deboned. Nothing gets me more than a bone in my gums, you know what I’m saying, dawg?” Orangello asked.

Morgana tasted the fish and frowned. “No. I don’t know what you’re saying, dawg.”

Next, they tried the chocolate covered figs.

“Dawg. Dawg!” Orangello looked at the fig in his hand, and then to each judge, and then back to the fig. “Dawg, I love figs. When I put it on the screen, I was expecting some type of wacky transformation that they typically do on this show, but these figs are left alone and enhanced with this slightly bitter chocolate! This really made my day!”

Morgana sneered. “Maybe to you, but I expect more creativity from my cooks.”

Finally, they tried the lemonade. Morgana quickly took a sip through the licorice straw and coughed. “Wow! I’m overwhelmed by the bitterness of licorice! What an outrageous idea! This was not what I had in mind when I put black licorice on the screen.”

Orangello shook his head. “You know, dawg, I can barely taste it.”

“I have to agree with Orangello, Morgana. What slight bitterness I taste seems to really enhance the sweetness and tartness of the drink itself. This is a fine way to end a smoking hot entry into the competition today.”

All the remaining food was carted away and the announcer deliberated with the judges quietly about their scores.

Finally, the announcer stepped off the judge’s stage and walked toward the two kitchens. “Thank you for waiting, everyone! Our judges are ready to review today’s competition! Are you excited?”

Sir Taco sweated profusely. “I don’t want to blast off again.” The band held hands and steadied themselves on the giant platform.

“Let’s hear from each one and find out who they’re voting for!”

Morgana went first. “I have to say, I am sorely disappointed in our guest home chefs. I really wish I had more praise to share, however they didn’t really transform any of the ingredients to what I would consider Metal Chef quality. This show has long prided itself with the ability of a chef to take the mundane and turn it into the extraordinary and to show a brand-new world to the judges. Today I fear we have significantly lowered the bar and hope our contestants feel bad because they did bad.”

The announcer was startled by the sheer savagery on display. She took a moment to compose herself before responding. “Wow. That is the most scathing review I have ever heard on the history of this show. I think it’s clear where your vote goes. And may the guest chefs have mercy on their souls.”

“Yes. I vote for the Metal Chefs, Morty and Rashad,” Morgana said.

“Yeah! Thanks, Queen, yeah!” Chef Morty said.

“We’ll see you for that catering gig next week!” Chef Rashad said delightfully. The chef duo took a bow.

The announcer pointed to the next judge. “Fire Chief Shannon, what is your vote?”

The Fire Chief glanced briefly at Morgana and then swallowed a huge glass of water. “I feel it necessary to address the point my esteemed colleague Morgana made regarding the duty of our contestants to transform ingredients and introduce new profiles to the judges. I too agree that this show has had a long and storied tradition of doing just that. However, today I struggled with the idea that the very tradition always trumps the cult of the new. We’re in a new season, with new challenges, and a new Stadium Kitchen set. I can’t help but also feel the theme of new creeping into how we judge.

“I asked myself during the meal what it was that I was judging. Was it truly the use of food in clever or creative ways? I actually got on my phone and looked up this very show to read again what the purpose was. It says plainly on our website that the goal is to match the favorite flavors with the judges. Nowhere does it require a novel reinvention of the ingredients. I must admit that I very much enjoyed the direct approach by our home chefs. They gave us what we asked for in the simplest of terms. If I were at home and wanted a prepared meal after a long day, quite frankly I prefer the home chef’s dish to our Metal Chefs, Morty and Rashad. I vote for The Non-Traditional Key Gullz.”

The audience erupted in a mixture of gasps and jeering.

Morgana smirked and shrugged her shoulders playfully. “I guess we can’t win them all,” she giggled. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Thank you, Fire Chief Shannon,” the announcer continued. “Orangello, no pressure, but please share with us your tie-breaking choice.”

“Oh, Orangello,” Morgana said. “I have a meeting with the Rockin’ Records board tomorrow about some top-level topics and I think it would just be a grand opportunity to share my opinion of you and your work with them. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, um…sure, dawg. I’d appreciate that.” Orangello shifted uncomfortably in his chair when he leaned forward to grip his microphone. Speaking softly, he said, “I was pretty undecided going into the post-meal phase because I found both delights and detriments to both team’s dishes. It wasn’t until I heard my fellow judges’ commentary that I was able to clarify my position on the matter. I think we’ve already talked enough so I’m just gonna come out and say I vote for the home chefs.”

Stadium Kitchen exploded with cheers and jeers as a very rare outcome occurred. The announcer declared The Non-Traditional Key Gullz as the winners and, by the press of a lever, Morty and Rashad were skyrocketed up and out of the stadium somewhere to a waiting rescue boat far out in the open ocean water.

“We did it!” Candii shouted.

“Great coaching, Thad Penguino!” Sir Taco said with a hug.

“I couldn’t have done it without the inspiration of great music. My thanks goes to Key Gullz for getting our groove on.”

“It was nothing, just my natural instinct,” she replied.

The announcer presented the band with the unicorn pearl as Morgana wrapped herself in her cloak and evaporated in a burst of flames. The judge’s stage caught on fire and the stadium’s fire suppression system began alarming and sprinkling everyone with water. The audience fled the bleachers toward their nearest emergency exit.

With droplets running down her face, Candii held the glowing pearl and felt a unicorn’s presence inside. “This one’s for Elegant.”

The band exited the stadium and walked back to the van.

“We now have fourteen unicorn pearls,” Thad Penguino counted. “We should be tied with Morgana, save the one at the base of her mountain. I don’t know what it’s doing there and not in her lair, but that gives us the opportunity to grab it and one-up her in the final confrontation.”

Candii fist pumped in the air. “Let’s hit the road!”