Donut Hunt Monsters: Part II

“Where did you train?” the mage inquired. “The North,” I answered. “With Gwynevere, sorceress of the bakèd arts.” “Very good,” said the mage. “I have a recipe you might be interested in.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I could top that one,” I said, “but lay the deets on me. I’m intrigued.” The mage smiled. He had a long white beard and dark blue robes. His eyes were violet, but they glowed red at the edges as he spoke. “It’s a sugarplum recipe,” he said, “and it

requires 50,000 wings of sugarplum fairies, the eye of a living nutcracker, two-" "Wait, what?" I staggered back from the sheer information that he just spouted. "Sugarplum fairieS? A living nutcracker? There's more than one? What's up with the 50,000?" "That's why," he evilly

exclaimed “we attract generations of humans to recreate the nutcracker story every year. A small percentage of them believe it enough to become sugarplum fairies themselves, with wings ripe for harvest!”

But there’d already been so many of those at Burning Man the previous year, the general consensus this summer was to forego that one and instead focus on wood nymphs or pixies instead, just to keep things fresh.

I know all this issues with monsters and baking goods weren’t going to stop, not until I meet with the Wood Nymph Witch and got the Magic Pastry of Time. This was way, to bite into this pastry and end all, once and for all. So, I closed my eyes and bit into the flaky crust.