Monday, January 12, 2009

The Chrono Flakes Chronicles

Hi! This is Corazon. Due to unforseen circumstances, Frank is unable to write something new for today's entry. Because I do not want to steal his thunder (or the fact I'm too scared to even try...) I'm posting this previously written entry by him for your enjoyment. He may not know it now, but I see this entry as the start of a new series, so I'm making it so. Without further adue...

Chairman: The secret ingredient is . . .

Producer: What’s he doing?

Alton: In what seems to be an unprecedented move, the Chairman is reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out sample-sized boxes of cereal.


Alton: Well there you have it folks. The secret ingredient is Chrono Flakes. Iron Chef Cat Cora seems to be confused by this secret ingredient. I’m not sure if she intends on continuing with the competition. Alright, a minor spat’s been avoided thanks to some quick thinking by the producer and an even quicker exchange of money.

Chairman: Let the battle begin!

Alton: And here we go. The Iron Chef seems to be utterly confounded by the secret ingredient while the challenger is tearing into the box and spreading them onto a sheet pan. Our producer is telling us to inform our audience that Food Network is not liable for any damages incurred by the Iron Chef or Challenger during this competition, so, audience, watch for anything out of the ordinary!

Broche: Hello, Alton. We indeed have a strange battle today. Nobody but the Chairman and the Challenger have any idea what these Chrono Flakes are. I’ve asked The Iron Chef what she thinks, but I received no response as she was busy in a battle of her own as she fended off a flurry of ninja stars.

Alton: Strange indeed, Kevin. Perhaps some insight as we peer into the Challenger’s side. She’s—yes, she’s crushing the Chrono Flakes and spreading them in a plate beside a bowl of green-glowing eggs and what appears to be flour that is somehow being suspended in midair. I’m not entirely sure, but I think she’s going to bread something in the Chrono Flakes and deep fry it.

Kevin: Alton, I’ve just received word that the Iron Chef defeated a group of marauding ninjas and has begun preparing her dishes. She said she’s distraught but, thanks to a threat on her family at the producer's command, she will continue the battle against the challenger.

Alton: Very good, Kevin. For the first time ever, I’m at a loss for words. How about introducing us to our judges?

Kevin: Alton, I would if it weren’t for the fact that the judges have been replaced by the challenger. What I suspect are the Challenger’s clones have mysteriously been seated at the judges’ table. Should I introduce them?

Alton: No, Kevin, I don’t think that’s necessary. Sweet Lord, Kitchen Stadium’s been besieged by an army of the Challenger’s doppelgangers. The army is flooding the kitchen and helping the Challenger make pasta dough. This is amazing, folks, I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’m Alton Brown. Although it’s against the laws of physics, I think it’s clear what’s happening here.

Kevin: What’s that, Alton?

Alton: The darkest of the food arts: Time Travioli. The challenger is going to make Time Travioli to defeat the Iron Chef and begin and end the paradox to end all paradoxes.

Kevin: Are you saying that this army and clones are none other than the Challenger herself?

Alton: That’s right, Kevin.

Kevin: I’m not sure, Alton. But I’m scared. The Chairman is laughing maniacally while doing back flips around the arena.

Chairman: The time has come for, me, the Chairman, to control Kitchen Stadium! I’ll no longer play second fiddle to you, food nerd.

Alton: No. This can’t be. How could you, Chairman! You’ve delving into the darkest of food magics. Iron Chef, run!


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