The Sacred Opening of the Fridge Door
chants of toasty but not burnt:
"We gather here, burger or veggie, grid your cheese to melt,
For it is us, the hungry pack, that refuse to heed the chef
Let no leftovers scorn our view, remix us and renew"
Wrath of the Eternal Hot Sauce
blistering tongues:
"O mighty pepper burn, to you we humbly bow,
Forgive us our sins, of bland chips and dull stew,
Raise the heat and bold our fate, as we sip milk and rue"
The Assembly of Forgotten Snacks
cherish the crumbs:
"Crushing at the bottom of our sacred snack drawers,
Flavors past their prime, but holy nonetheless,
In stale we trust, for freshness is optional, in crunch we invest"