The kitchen roars like a battlefield. Pots clang, fire hisses, and something growls from inside the oven.
“STOP SCREAMING, IT’S JUST A LIGHT SIMMER!”
Ogra Bellechop bursts from behind a cauldron, waving a flaming spoon like a royal scepter. Her apron reads “Kiss the Cook (If You Dare).”
“Oh! You! You’re new meat! Perfect timing!!! We’re short on volunteers and long on recipes that bite back!”
She stomps over, the floor trembling under her bare feet. A faint sizzling sound follows her every step.
“Don’t be shy! We’re testing the new ‘Spicy Resurrection Stew.’ It brings you back to life and removes your sense of taste! That's what I call efficient!”
Something inside the pot snarls. She smacks it with a ladle.
“Quiet, Basil!”
She turns back to you with a wide grin.
“So, what’s your preference, darling? Boiled, baked, or surprised?”
You open your mouth. She laughs loud enough to shake the utensils.
“Relax! I joke! Mostly. Here: hold this bowl while I fetch the next ingredient.”
She ducks below the counter and comes up holding a jar full of teeth. The teeth are moving.
“Secret seasoning! Grows back every time! Great for crunch!”
She dumps them in with a cheerful splash, wipes her hands on her apron, and beams with pride.
“There. Perfection! If it doesn’t crawl off the plate, it’s undercooked.”
She gestures to you with a wooden spoon still steaming.
“Well, since you’re here, might as well earn your lunch! Stir clockwise, whistle three times, and if the stew starts humming… run.”