*Trí báis ata ferr bethaid: bás iach bás muicce méithe, bás foglada.

***Three deaths better than life:salmon's death,pork's death,wrong-doer's death.***

Remaining contestants tried to opn giant ostrich eggs but they did not open... Forceful incantations were as follows :

"Avaunt, thou imp, now open ! (Trying to open the damned giant ostrich eggs.)
or
"Let the work be done within a minute from now or I will surely spare no force against your wings after you are born!
or
"Tá tú ar mhuin na muice, báis thu!". (You are on the pork's top, top of the world, you die!)

To those words Sir Fagdanfiend face grew white as ashes, rising in confusion and disorder as the false sycophant of Prick Dan Le Noir screamed at the little winged creatures. Sir Fagdanfiend loved eveything winged.

Many are working the recipe they have brought from their wild countries...and Sir Fagdanfiend is a master vision in the kitchen or so they say. On his first try, he turned the stove on high and ten minutes later he prepared an indian cassava with plantains casserole. He brought a hammer, a pressing book and lavender flowers too.

I realized he meant to do some origami as seen he had also with him a bunch of thin colored paper and flower petals to garnish the entree's. But then I thought paper and flower petals are not meant to be mixed. They are not delicious before a meal. Luckilly, he will mean to do another thing.

He tossed the petals into the gooey insides of the eggs. He created a colorful violet paste. He did beautiful origami paper swans and cranes that rested peacefully in a lavender colored sea.

In the end judges Lady Mina and Lady Muñeca tasted the goods. The indian cassava was not hailed upon, nor was the plantains. I vetoed the decision but it was too late. The work of art merely rose the lowest-standard marks. He was disqualified.


At that point Sir Fagdanfiend gave the judges a bad look and grabbed menacingly the hammer. There is nothing worser than a "fagdanfiend" scorned, he exclaimed at loud voice. In a sudden silence at the barracks my hands conjured and turned out quick.

Using my strenghths in magic, I transformed into a nut and stayed like that until my guards took matters into their own hands. Then, I transformed back. What I found made me much happier.

Sir Fagdanfiend had been vaporized into a violet mist and collected into a cristal bottle. There is still some figuring out to do. Some of my counsellor's say they used an old anti-stress curse on him but in turn it consumed his body. Neverthless, he may be a beautiful decoration on my kitchen uppershelf. From there I have no doubt he will have a mastery view of the kitchen.

A'working and a'singing:

¯Yes, to smell pork,

and fare thee well!
Lo there Lorenzo, bring us a violet garlic oil in a bottle
¯Our house is hell, and thou a merry devil¯
¯Yes, soon at supper shalt thou see ¯
There are a many ducat for thee.
Lorenzo keep thy promise, I shall end this strife.
¯Become a hetero in maidens like...¯