Light pours through the open window. A brisk breeze ruffles the flowers resting on the windowsill. A scent rises up towards the ceiling, filling every nook and cranny of the peaceful kitchen. The scent carries with it whispers of garlic, cumin, saffron. Pan-seared tenderloin brings you back to your years of youth. An age of illusory sovereignty — blissful negligence. A stew brings the aroma. A lovely stew fit for the highest of kings, a stew to drub all stews.
One ingredient has yet to enter the stew. The ingredient to make the perfect stew. The ingredient is our bold hero — Billy Bob the Corn Cob. He stands, ready upon his husk. His chiseled cob glimmers in the sunlight prepared to defend all manners of evil which threaten the superb brew.
Ploop. What was that?! Billy Bob the Corn Cob rotates his brilliant cob to face the producer of the noise. It is none other than Percival the Pimple. His fleshy skin oozes evil, his stench counteracts the bouquet of the stew. It is as if all love and hope have been stripped from the kitchen. Percival the Pimple glares Billy Bob straight in his cob, sputtering to form a few disgusting words. “Billy Bob,” he mutters, as puss drips from his pore, “I wish to gain passage to this here stew. I have foreseen my destiny as the final ingredient, and will vanquish all of those who dare to stand in my way.”
Billy Bob the Corn Cob turns ever so magnificently to face the rotting pimple which slimes before him. “Halt! You filthy swine, you dare trespass into the realm of the Perfect Stew? You shall wish nor move not a slime closer. If you do not choose to remove yourself, I shall smite you where you now ooze, foul beast.”
“You shall try…. But you shan’t succeed.”
“By all that is delicious, I condemn you to die.”
The Cob lunges forward with a piercing strike, his cob sharp and deadly, aiming to kill. Percival shifts to side, puss trailing his abominable body. As Billy Bob glides by with deafening speed, the Pimple excretes his juices onto the sumptuous cob. The Cob, now saturated with Percival’s fluids, finds himself in momentary distress. Quickly gathering himself, Billy Bob realizes his opponent may not be the simplest of foes. A worthy adversary indeed.
Percival the Pimple takes the offensive, squirting forth a mighty stream of puss able to strip Billy Bob of all his kernels. The Cob reacts almost too late, bracing his cob by raising his husk to block the putrid juice. Billy Bob springs from the table, taking the sky. Flipping his cob miraculously in an upside-down position, he launches himself directly downward. Reaching terminal velocity in mere milliseconds, kernels begin to pop as his cob reaches incredible temperatures.
Husk meets table in a moment of intense pressure. A shockwave erupts in a radius of several inches, knocking Percival onto his back. Billy Bob the Corn Cob restrains the Pimple on the wood surface, unable to move. The Cob raises his husk into the air, ready to execute Percival with a final blow.
Complete and utter silence.
Billy Bob the Corn Cob does not bring down his Husk of Valor. No, the Cob releases his foe and steps back, freeing Percival. “I shan’t deny you passage Percival,” the Cob says in a cool and stern tone. “Who is to decide what belongs in the Perfect Stew? I am impressed by your courage and candor. You may proceed.”
Percival the Pimple regains his footing, and without a word, oozes toward the stew. Percival stands on the edge of the pot, looking down into the brew below. He closes his eyes and leans forward, ever so slightly, falling into the marvelous mixture below.
All in all, we cannot allow ourselves to be limited by society’s recipe. We must act in defiance – attempt to change that which must be changed. Be yourself, no matter what shape, texture, or taste you might have. Find and revolutionize your own stew. Change the world, one recipe at a time.
