Mogey and Smush strode the farmers market, fighting their way through such unappealing foodstuffs as vine-ripened tomatoes, sun-kissed local strawberries, and lettuces of every shape, color, and disgusting taste. They were on the hunt for the hidden gems that every farmers market contains if you know where to look: your deep-fried candy bars, your energy drink giveaways, your beef-, duck-, and venison-jerky purveyors.
Suddenly the pals stopped short, gasping in unison. They stared at the man sitting beneath the pop tent before them.
"Do you know who that is?" Smush whispered.
"You bet I do," Mogey replied. "That's Dr. Spice, the world's greatest architect of dusts for chips, crackers, and crisps."
"The first man who combined sour cream and onion."
"In dust form."
"The Baron of BBQ."
"The Padre of Powdered Cheez."
The pals breathlessly rushed up to Dr. Spice's tent and fell to their knees. "Dr. Spice! Dr. Spice!" they shouted.
"Please," said the man, completely unsurprised by their behavior, "call me Spice."
"Ok, Spice!" Mogey exclaimed. "Would you--"
"Ahem, that's Doctor Spice," interrupted that master of flavor dust.
"Erm, of course," Mogey stuttered. "Dr. Spice, would you share your secrets with us? We'll do anything! We'll become your apprentices. We'll work for free. Just teach us the magic of your flavors!"
"Anything?" asked Dr. Spice.
"Anything," Smush confirmed.
"Well then, all you need to do is pay forty-- ahem-- fifty-nine ninety-nine for my book." Dr. Spice held up a hefty volume entitled Flavour Dust in the Wind. "It literally has all the recipes in it."
"We'd have to... read?" Mogey asked uncertainly.
"Are you sure we can't just be your unpaid apprentices?" Smush added.
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