I will tell you a story about bread now.
Once upon a time there was a lonely loaf of bread, that bread was me, one day I decided i wanted to go on an adventure to find more friends than the moldy bagel at the back of the fridge, so the next time my owners took me out for a walk on the counter, and went to slice me up, I made a break for it. I ran all the way to the toasting station where I got a nice golden yellow tan all over my white body, and then I pop out onto an icy cold plate and get coated in strawberry blood. After I got to the sink I found someone that might be my friend, when he spoke he sounded like he was from England, he didn’t like me much and sent me to the frying pan and said I might find someone there, so I set out for the frying pan, but encountered a slight problem, it was on the stove which isn’t attached to the counter so it ended up being too far for me to slide to. I heard a faint screaming coming from the stove and the loud *sizzle* of whatever was in the pan, I begin to assemble whatever I can, to make a bridge over to the stove, eventually building a large enough bridge, out of a cutting board, and I slowly make my way across only to find a red and pink strip of meat sizzling and screaming for help; I don’t know what to do to save it from that wretched place, it looked like it was suffering on a grand scale, I jumped on top of it to try stopping the pain with my cold strawberry blood.
