A sudden turn

Blood splattered, fresh from the batter. Not that it mattered, there's more to go around. Knife slashed and fists beat it to a lumpy pail pulp. Skin tones beat with black spots, Splashed with red, Then shoved into the fire. I threw the blood streaked knife in the sink and waited. An awful wail came from behind me. I turned around to see and saw the cookies were done. I rushed over to the stove to pull the cookies out before they're golden skins could turn black.