Becomes your brain after kneading a dough of words on the board of memory. "Cook four," says the chef who busies himself with culinary calculus. You promptly roll each slice into a ball and fuck it with egg and semantic filling, making sure that no customer will say it tastes like manila paper. You gather the sides, pinch them together, and twist. The chef begins to snore. You place the rolls in the steamer. Whistle and wait until the froth from his mouth rises. Once he does, switch off the stove and let the dreams subside. Put the buns in the plate and serve. Estimated time is 12 hours. Get a free bag of flour for overtime pay.
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