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The Crack Chronicles

    Gurpreet Singh
    @SharryTales
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    1 Likes | 4 Views | Jan 4, 2025

    A long time ago, in the strange little kingdom of Splittoria, there was a humble baker called Marvyn Doughbottom. Marvyn was known for two things: his legendary sourdough, and his peculiar birthmark, a thin, jagged line that ran down the inside of his right thigh. His friends jokingly nicknamed it the “Crack Between His Legs,” but Marvyn didn’t think anything of it —until the day it started to glow. One bright morning, while Marvyn was kneading dough, the crack illuminated as if by a bolt of lightning. He dropped his rolling pin and stepped back as a booming voice filled the bakery.

    “Marvyn Doughbottom,” it declared, “you are the chosen one!
    "The chosen one for what?" Marvyn stuttered, glancing nervously down at his radiant leg.
    “You have to go on a quest to save Splittoria,” the voice said. “For in the crevice is buried the portal to the Portal of Pancaketh, which must be sealed before the Syrup Sorcerer arises and floods the world with sugary annihilation.”
    Marvyn's jaw dropped. "But I'm just a baker!"
    “A baker can even be a hero,” the voice intoned, unflinching. “The crevice has chosen you to become the Guardian of the Griddle.”
    Marvyn had little choice but to slap some bread, his trusty rolling pin and a flask of strong coffee together. His first stop was the village elder, Granny Wafflebeard, who knew the ancient legends.
    "The crack, you say?" Granny said, leaning closer to his leg. "Ah, yes. Only the Guardian can close the Portal of Pancaketh. But watch out — Syrup Sorcerer’s minions will try to stop you. They're a sticky bunch!"
    Granny gave Marvyn a map and a magic spatula. “This will take you to the portal. And remember that the power of laughter is your greatest weapon.”
    Thus began Marvyn's journey. The journey meant that he had to encounter some treacherous challenges along the way. He outsmarted the Butter Brutes with banana-peel slips and the Jam Jesters with knock-knock jokes. He even strikes up a friendship (of sorts) with a talking teapot named Earl Grey,who dispenses sage advice and provides endless cups of tea.
    Finally, Marvyn reached the Portal of Pancaketh, the swirling vortex and scent of maple and danger. Next to the swirling portal stood the Syrup Sorcerer, a huge being straddling a staff of hardened caramel.
    "You cannot seal the portal!" the sorcerer bellowed. "Splittoria shall be mine!"
    Quaking but unyielding, Marvyn shook the magical spatula. "Not today, syrup breath!" he bellowed.
    Marvyn threw all caution to the wind and came untethered with a series of truly terrible puns: “Why did the pancake get arrested? For batter-y!" The sorcerer moaned and held his head.
    Seizing the moment, Marvyn placed the glowing crack onto the portal. There was a burst of light, and then the portal closed with a booming whoosh. The Syrup Sorcerer splatted into a puddle of molasses, vanquished.
    Marvyn came back to Splittoria a hero. His bakery became legendary, and the townsfolk never tired of hearing how the fissure between his legs saved the world.
    So, Marvyn Doughbottom, Guardian of the Griddle, lived happily ever after — serving sourdough and saving the world, one laugh at a time in life.