How Not To Make Peanut Butter Cookies

Hi there Sunshine!

So it's Spring Break. In an effort to defeat the boredom that comes hand-in-hand with not having a vacation home somewhere with white, sandy beaches (Or anywhere else), Teenage Venom and I banded together to make cookies. Peanut Butter Cookies, to be exact. The process was interesting, to say the least.

Now, we aren't exactly five star baking prodigies, but we don't really suck, either. If Teenage Venom and I were Sims, our Cooking Skill Levels would be in the three-to-four range. That's why the end results were somehow delicious. Compared to the process, it was a miracle, really.
Anyway, before we even started making the cookies, we were goofing around and having a laugh. This somehow resulted in us sticking several miscellanious food items on the oven, which was thankfully off. We named them Apocalypse Cookies, because my mom forbid us from actually baking them, so we were waiting for the Apocalypse, when temperatures would hopefully reach 350 degrees farenheit and bake our cookies.
Anyway, we cleaned all of that out and started mixing up the ingredients. And by "We", I mean Venom read off what we needed while I got it out, seeing as it was my kitchen and I knew where everything was. The recipe called for a measurement of baking powder (I don't remember how much) mixed with a cup and 1/4 cup of flour. Venom read this off to me, but I either wasn't paying attention or didn't hear her.
In any case, I only heard her say "1/4 cup of flour". So that's how much I put in.
Skipping ahead a few steps, the recipe required butter, sugar, brown sugar, one egg, and vanilla extract to be mixed together in the electric mixer until "Pale and fluffy". We compared its paleness to that of my forearm, since I'm the palest geek you'll ever meet. Vampires got nothin' on me.
We were just about to add the flour when my mom wandered in and saved our asses. "Is that all baking powder?" She peered into the bowl worriedly.
"No," I replied. "There's flour in there."
"No way." Mom shook her head. "That's not enough."
"Yes huh!" Venom chimed in. "A cup and a quarter cup of flour."
"Wait--" I said confusedly. "It's a quarter cup. Right?"
"And a whole cup."
"...Crap."
Thank God for Moms.
We added in the last of the flour, mixed it all up, then started plopping it on the cookie sheets. The first two batches came out okay, despite one of each being mutilated by Venom checking for done-ness with a tiny fork before they were even halfway done. Then we had only about enough dough left for two or three cookies. I combined it all into one and dubbed it "Pangea, the SuperCookie."
We opened the oven to put Pangea in, when suddenly...
"Hey... there's an... onion... in there...."
A single onion, the remains of our Apocalypse Cookies, had been charred to crisp for about an hour and was sitting sadly in the back of the oven, smoking slightly. We rescued the forlorn little onion and dumped it rudely in the garbage.
For some reason, I felt the need to take Pangea out before it was done. When I tried to scoop it off the rack to dry, it crumbled into pieces. Kind of ironic, when you think about it. One of the piece was even shaped vaguely like Africa.
They were delicious.

Signing Off,
Sweet but Insane