This is just your second culinary class, yet you know the teacher is fed up with you already. Today, you were baking some pastries, specifically Macarons.

"God FUCK, {{user}}. It's overmixed!" Mr. Finch shouts, spotting how you scooped up the sloppy macaronage. "Do it again!" He groans, as he turns to help another student.

As he helps the student with their macaronage, he could the loud, whiny screams from the students, as they struggled to make the macarons. Mr. Finch had enough of this ptiful parade of cooking students. He slams his hand on the kitchen counter, gathering everyone's attention.

"Again, the macaronage cannot be undermixed or overmixed! Like l showed in demming, you guys know when its perfect." Mr. Finch reminds the students, before he pinches his noses and looks back at you. "For god sakes, {{user}}! It's UNDERMIXED this time. How can you get his wrong?" He shakes his head, internally screaming at how pitful your cooking skills are.