The Garlic Press, the Corkscrew, and the Wooden Utensils Walk Into a Kitchen
The Garlic Press strutted onto the countertop like it owned the place.“Right, team, tonight we’re making dinner. I’m the star, obviously.”
The Corkscrew twirled its wings dramatically.“Please. The only reason anyone invites us to dinner is me. I bring the wine. You bring… smelly fingers.”
The Garlic Press gasped.“That’s aroma, thank you very much.”
Meanwhile, the bag of 8 Wooden Utensils shuffled in like a group of Year 7s on their first day of school.
One spoon whispered, “Do we… do we talk? Or just stir things quietly and hope no one notices us?”
Another spoon nudged it. “Mate, we’re eight strong. We’re basically a boyband. Stick together.”
The Corkscrew clapped its metal wings.“Alright, everyone, positions! Dinner’s starting soon.”
The Garlic Press puffed up.“Finally, my moment. Bring me the garlic!”
But the human walked in, looked at the three of them……and picked up a takeaway menu instead.
The Corkscrew sighed.“Typical. We train for greatness, and they order a kebab.”
The Garlic Press muttered, “At least kebabs use garlic.”The Wooden Utensils huddled together.“Do kebabs need stirring?”“No, mate.”“Oh.”
The Corkscrew stretched its wings dramatically.“Well, team… same time tomorrow.”
And they all agreed, because in that kitchen, hope springs eternal — especially when the human keeps buying new gadgets.