It began like any Tuesday: the cat was wearing its usual disdain, and the coffee pot was plotting its revenge. Little did the town know that a simple breeze would free the Cactus from its prickly slumber. "The sun is too hot!" it exclaimed, twirling like a spiny ballerina. The townsfolk were torn between the urge to clap and an overwhelming need to leave town immediately.
In a world where mismatched socks are the norm, one woman dared to dream of unity for the lost pairs. Armed with a basket and a caffeine-fueled ambition, she ventured into the depths of her laundry room. "Alas, the lefts and rights are ever-separated!" she cried. Legends say she could hear them cry out in the night—until she shushed them with a cup of chamomile, of course.
Read more: The Sock Chronicles
Deep in the underwater libraries of Atlantis, an ambitious goldfish named Scribbles decided to pen a memoir of the ocean's most mundane events. "Chapter One: The Great Algae Picnic" was, predictably, the highlight of the year. Critics were less impressed, preferring the written works of more terrestrial authors—like the one who chronicled the life of a particularly lazy sloth.
The world was at war—not over territory, but a muffin recipe rumored to redefine pastry science. Knights and bakers alike scoured the Kingdom of Flour in search of the elusive ingredient: a pinch of dragon's zest. It was said that whoever baked the muffin would reign supreme, or at least have a delicious snack.
Bake along: Muffin Myths.