In the deep pocket of nowhere, where mild sass meets perpetual summer, tales are neither born nor invented. Instead, they're formed like pancakes — by countless failed flips and the occasional sprinkle of wisdom.
Legend says, on Tuesdays no less, the infamous vegetable knight performs an elegant dance atop the castle's most crooked spire. Witnesses claim the tango has never been seen but oh, the tales are sweeter than caramelized onions on a foggy Wednesday.