The Ballad of Jennifer McNastyhead
Poor Jennifer McNastyhead. She tries so hard to make cookie dough, but the dough resists. Is it repulsed by her nasty feet? Is it so enamored the ordinariness of her ordinary head that it wants to keep its distance (all the better to get the big picture, not that Jennifer’s head is unusually big or anything, it’s perfectly ordinary.)
Does the dough not like her name? Does it wish that she had a more appropriate name for her physical appearance, like Jennifer McNastyfeet, or Jennifer McOrdinaryhead? Now those would be names that really embodied the very essence that the cookie dough felt from her presence. Her given name, unfortunately, was more likely to disembody her dough-felt aura.
I guess that answers my question about why the cookie dough continually resists her. I’m not sure why it was even a big question to start with, since it seems so obvious once you know the solution. But then I guess that happens a lot. It wouldn’t have been a good puzzle if it didn’t seem obvious after the fact.
Or was it not supposed to be a puzzle in the first place? How would I find out about these things? Who comes up with these questions? Oh, looking back at the question, it looks like I was the first one to ask it. I must have been feeling woozy, I think my brain gauze got loose and some loose grains of grain got embedded in my brain. That’s the only thing that would explain my accidental puzzle asking.
But don’t worry, I’m feeling perfectly ducky right now. That’s a good thing, you’ve seen how well ducks can swim around on the water; it’s as if they have absolutely no brain grain whatsoever.
Uh oh, gotta go, it looks like Jennifer McNastyhead is trying to pour out some ketchup and it’s not going well. I bet the ketchup talked to the cookie dough and now her whole kitchen is against her and her inappropriate name.