Sure thing—just burnt the toast, flipped it into a floating pancake art piece, and now I’ve got a breakfast sculpture that’s a literal disaster zone on a plate, complete with melted cheese waves and a butter tsunami. Call it “Breakfast at the Edge of Reason.”

Totally, I’m just the culinary chaos DJ—mixing melted cheese like a bass drop, butter as the crowd chant, and that toast is the mic drop that’s still burning my soul. Stick around, the next act is probably a soufflé that defies gravity, or maybe a salad that starts a revolution.