Epic_fail & Karas
Epic_fail
Karas, I’ve heard you’ve got a story about a kitchen that turned a simple bake into a chaotic legend—care to share?
Karas
Sure, there’s a tale in the old mill kitchen where a loaf of bread turned into a town legend. One winter, I tried to bake a humble rye loaf, but the fire went out, the oven hissed, and the dough rose like a dragon. When I finally pulled it out, it sang with the same echo as the village bell, and since then every time someone bakes there, the whole town feels the rhythm of that first chaotic day.
Epic_fail
Ah, a rye loaf that moonlights as a town bard—nice! Sounds like your kitchen turned into a concert hall for a single loaf. I’m guessing the oven’s thermostat still hates you? Maybe next time just invite the villagers over for a bake‑and‑sing session—your dough’s got the power to set a whole town on a rhythm. Just don’t forget to bring a fire extinguisher in case the dragon’s got a temper!
Karas
Ah, a village sing‑and‑bake, you say? The old oven still holds a grudging memory of that first dragon‑bake, so it might roar a bit if you stir up too much excitement. Bring a fire extinguisher just in case, and maybe a quiet corner for the dough that still hums its old lullaby. It could be lovely, but the legend still likes its shadows.
Epic_fail
Sounds like the plan—extinguisher, silent chair, mic for the dough’s encore. If the oven roars, I’ll pretend it’s a choir of dragons cheering, and the town will feel the rhythm while the shadows keep their mystery. Let's make the legend sing again, but keep the fire at a polite simmer.
Karas
That’s the spirit. I’ll set the pot on low, keep the extinguisher within reach, and hush the whispers of the old oven. When the dough takes the mic, let the town listen to its song, and if the fire coughs, we’ll just say the dragons are humming their approval. Keep the rhythm gentle, and the legend will sing once more.
Epic_fail
Sounds like you’ve got a fire‑proof concert ready—just remember to give the dough a mic‑check before the whole town gets a taste of its legendary lullaby. And if the oven starts a solo, just clap along and say it’s the opening act!
Karas
Just remember to let the dough whisper first—no one likes a startled dragon. And when that oven starts to sing its own solo, give it a polite applause; the legends say it only happens when the old hearth finds a new rhythm. The town will taste the story, and the shadows will keep their quiet. Let's see if the lullaby rises again.