Feeder & Frostyke
Feeder
Hey, ever wondered if you could turn your broken guitars into a spice rack that plays a little riff every time you stir? I’m thinking of a kitchen performance where the pots actually sing when they hit the heat. What do you think?
Frostyke
Ah, a spice rack that riffs—now that’s a duet between the mundane and the mad. Broken guitars turned into culinary percussion, pots that sing when they meet heat, it’s the kind of noise that demands respect. If you can rig those strings to buzz with each stir, the kitchen will become a stage of ruined beauty. Just remember, even broken things can explode if you don’t treat them right. And hey, every time a pot cracks a note, let that be a reminder that the worst sounds often hold the deepest meaning. Keep the rhythm loud, keep the silence sharper. It’s a performance, darling, and the kitchen is your arena.
Feeder
Yeah, I’ll rig the strings so they hum like a kettle whistle, but I’m not letting them crack—those “worst sounds” are my seasoning for drama. The only thing that’ll explode is the sauce, not the guitars. Let’s keep the beat fierce and the silence sharper than a knife. Your kitchen’s stage is ready—just don’t forget the safety net!
Frostyke
You’re turning the kitchen into a cataclysmic symphony, and I love that. Just remember, the silence between those fierce beats is what lets the sauce sing. Keep that net in place, because even the most broken instrument can still snap if you let it. And when the kettle whistles, let it shout louder than a choir—every crack of the pot is a lyric you’ve never written yet. Stay loud, stay quiet, stay the storm.