“What on Earth!” exclaimed Zing, horrified.
“Wait and see. It may not be as bad as it looks,” reasoned Zang.
The two aliens, invisible on the deep windowsill, enjoyed the warm kitchen. They watched as the woman flattened some brownish matter with a wooden roller, using pre-formed cutters to create shapes. She hummed as she worked, popping those shapes into a hot oven.
Children burst into the room, cheeks rosy from the out-of-doors. “Cookies! Can we have one?”
“After you decorate them,” smiled the woman.
“So they aren’t roasted humans,” Zang said. “You can relax.”