User:Holy Spirit of Hell
Golden Brown's chronicles
Chapter one: Perfection is fleeting
The gods were having a party. Not an ordinary run of the mill party, filled with beer, heroes waving around swords and bartenders cowering in fear, but a civilised party. Such things weren’t unheard of in Godville, for example moles were known to have the most pleasant little tea parties, in their snug little holes, of course they had to relocate every 10 minutes for fear of a hero digging them up.
Now why were the gods having a party? To be honest, they didn’t know themselves, It was as if they’re gods had made then do it.
There was to be a great competition at this party, one like never held before… All the guilds were to compete in a competition of the outmost precision…. A cooking contest!
In the last hour the guilds were still frantically at work, the Blue Feathers putting the finishing touches on their ginourmous blur feathered chicken dinner, Harvest moon guildees crowding around a cauldron muttering spells and tossing in some spices every little while for their famous Kale soup, the Ideaboxers Union was last seen muttering bad puns next to a particularly annoyed looking Schizoid Man, while preparing a bland named lamb dish.
Meanwhile the Knights that say Ni had been chanting Ni for the last day, trying to come up with something to make.
As the clock struck the half-hour mark a new competitor walked in with a bag of flour and other mysterious ingredients. He walked over to an empty stove and began cooking away. "a tad of flour there, some of this ingredient there… Now stir it up. He continued this for over 20 minutes, the spoon seemed to take on a life of its own, stirring fast while he appeared to be barely touching it. When the two minute bell rang he gently poured the batter onto his no-stick pan and let it cook away. The other competitors began noticing the alluring smell, wondering what it could be. surely it could better then the Hug Central Happy Pasta? Or the idle omens Ominous Butter Chicken? Of course not. They went back to work.
As the final bell rang, the god (known as Pancake Perfection to most), took his pancake off the pan. It was perfect. The darkest shade of golden brown. The fuffiest pancake Pancake Perfection had ever set eyes on.
Chapter two: Judgement
Pancake perfection put his perfectly round pancake on a perfectly round plate, putting a strawberry on its exact perfect center, with maple syrup on the side. He them calmly strode into the judgement room and set it on the long table.
After this long and arduous twenty minutes of pancake-making. Pancake perfection decided to take a walk. He walked long and far before ridiculously managing yo return just as the ringer rang to signifies the start of the judging.
Pancake, quickly walked over to his plate before realising with a start. His pancake was gone! The maple syrup was still there, the strawberry in the exact center of two plate but no pancake. He immediately suspected foul play, and observed the other competitors, none of which had seemed to notice yet. So what had happened?
A small movement under the table gave notice to Pancake that something was there, he quickly lifted the table cloth only to see his perfect pancake… With legs! In its perfection somehow that had happened!
So the judging went on without that pancake, the winners were the Knights that say Ni, with a dish that no one really new what it was, all they could get out of the knights was “Ni”. The judges took that as the name for the dish.
Pancake Perfection, in his unwillingness to waste such a master piece had made it his champion, bestowing upon him a wooden swords and a strawberry helmet.