So I was on my way to Flavortown, and out of nowhere, Gordon Ramsay jumps me in a remote New York alleyway asking me for the “lamb sauce.” Unluckily for me, I left my trusty lamb sauce at my apartment, and this was God’s way of punishing me. I thought this was the end, and that there was no coming back, but due to my immense adrenaline spike, I called upon the flavor-sprites to lend me their power, and I suddenly transformed into Guy Fieri. Gordon was taken aback by the immediate and awe inspiring transformation so much he started swearing like a middle-schooler who just got his Juul confiscated for the fifth time. Although his morale was lowered, he was still ready to fight. Gordon made a valiant attempt to land a blow, but my stress levels, combined with the holy form of Guy Fieri, was too much for him. I ascended to the cloudy skies and summoned the strongest spaghetti noodles known to man to restrain him and banish him to the land of Brussel Sprouts and Spoiled Milk. Not wanting to be taken alive, Gordon combusted into a pathetic pile of perfectly filleted onion rings and submitted to my unlimited power. As I transformed back into my normal form, I reflected on my actions and felt remorseful. After all, it was I who forgot the lamb sauce. I eventually made it to Flavortown, but I haven’t been the same since...