The human male has come home from doing the marketing with a surprise for the female. And here it is. It’s a… It’s a…
I have no idea what it is.
Sigyn, is that anything you recognize? It looks like an apple, a pear, and a lemon had too much to drink and this was the sad result. It’s hard as a brick, too, isn’t it?
Volstagg’s straining waiscoat buttons! Look at the arse on that thing!
I have a hard time believing that this is actually supposed to be edible. Surely this is a Joke Fruit. I don’t trust it. Nope, Not. At. All.
The human female says this is something that isn’t meant to be eaten raw. She’s whacked it into pieces with extreme prejudice and no finesse, and now she’s got the pieces simmering with sugar in a saucepan.
Careful, dearest! Don’t fall in!
Hmmm. I detect a hint of dessertification happening here. The human female has added apples, sugar, spices, and a little corn starch.
Sigyn approves of sugar and spices. If allowed, I believe she would wallow.
(later) The human female chucked the whole mess onto a crust in a pie plate. I “helped” her roll out the top crust. Oopsie. She cut out some pastry stars to cover up the giant tear. It’s been baking for a while now, and it smells as if it might be done.
Oh, yeah. Those stars are totally disguising your failure.