Page 51 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

Atlas groans. “Great. Now it’s just going to be a pun war.”

Teddy leans in, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Atlas. You’ve been pretty silent on the pun front. Got any up your sleeve?”

Atlas lifts one eyebrow, considering. “I’ve got one. But I’ll wait until it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Oh, a strategic pun sniper,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow. “I like it.”

We gather around the counter, each taking a turn to grab one of the last freshly baked cookies to decorate. The piping bags are filled, the sprinkles are ready, and the battle for pun supremacy begins.

Key, of course, is the first to break the silence. “I’ve got a question for you, Sugar,” he says, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “What did the gingerbread man put on his bed?”

I narrow my eyes, already bracing for the punchline. “What?”

“A cookie sheet.” He grins triumphantly, holding up the–ghost?–gingerbread man like it’s the crown jewel of his work.

I groan, but I can’t stop the laughter that escapes me. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s pun-derful, and you know it.”

Atlas rolls his eyes but reaches for his own cookie–a reindeer with a simple swirl of frosting for antlers. He’s quiet for a moment, carefully piping on the nose, before he leans over and says, “Why don’t you ever see Santa in the hospital?”

I blink at him. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Because he hasprivate elf care!” He doesn’t crack a smile, but the corner of his mouth twitches as he deadpans the punchline.

Key lets out a bark of laughter, and even Teddy smirks. “Alright, that was pretty good,” Teddy concedes.

I laugh, pointing at Atlas. “You’ve been holding out on us. That was solid.”

“I don’t use them unless they’re necessary,” he says with a wink.

Next, Teddy finishes off his decorating, his movements calm and precise. He adds a few sprinkles for effect before clearing his throat. “What’s every elf’s favorite type of music?”

We all stare at him, waiting for the inevitable pun.

“Wrapmusic,” he says with a completely straight face, displaying an elf shaped cookie that…indeed looks like an absurd Christmas themed rapper.

“Oh my God.” I bury my face in my hands, shaking my head. “That was so obvious.”

Key clutches his stomach, howling with laughter. “Teddy! That wasfrostinggood!”

I can’t stop giggling as I finish decorating mine with a final touch of black. “Alright, my turn,” I say, trying to think of the cheesiest joke I can come up with. “Why did the gingerbread man go to school?”

Atlas raises an eyebrow, already bracing himself.

“To become a smart cookie,” I say, waggling my eyebrows dramatically as I hold up my masterpiece. Suppressing a grin, I parade my nerdy gingerbread man, topped off with block glasses and a pocket protector like a prize cow.

Key lets out a groan, but he’s grinning. “Okay, that was pretty decent. You’re getting into the spirit of things, Sugar.”

As we finish decorating the last batch of cookies, Key steps back, surveying his gingerbread army with a satisfied grin. “I think we can all agree that I’m the undisputed champion here.”

Teddy shakes his head, washing his hands in the sink. “You wish.”

Atlas leans against the counter, arms crossed, his smirk growing wider by the second. “We still have to taste them before you can claim victory.”

Key’s eyes widen in mock horror. “Taste? But these are works of art! You can’t just-”

I grab one of his warrior gingerbread men, biting off its head with a satisfying crunch. “Tastes like victory to me,” I say through a mouthful of cookie.

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