simplesabley, The Journeyman Scrivener

Member Since


Last Activity

10/13/2020 8:53 AM

EXP Points


Post Count


Storygame Count


Duel Stats

28 wins / 28 losses


Marauder Exemplar



Here's a few online tools I've found recently that I like to reference while writing or just found useful/informative in general.
Cure for Writer's Block
Tips for Dialogue
3 Secrets to Great Storytelling
How to make your novel a page turner
How to Write Compelling Characters

Trophies Earned

Earning 100 Points Earning 500 Points Earning 1,000 Points Earning 2,000 Points Having 2 Storygame(s) Featured Rated 92.1% of all Stories Given by Will11 on 02/18/2020 - For your excellent stories and long commitment to the site :D


Featured Story Ciara's Game
Contest Winner for Endmaster's 2018 Fanfic Contest

Ciara's life has never been anything worth cherishing, until she participates in a game that changes everything.

Special thanks to Corgi for beta testing, you're the best!

Update 12/26/18:Changed good ending perameters so that the requirements make more sense.

Update 6/25/19:Fixed a script error where the judge did not properly acknowledge a player's choice.

P.S. There is more than one ending. If you haven't found more than one, then you have not tried "literally" everything.

Featured Story The Secret of Daphne

When a young family moves into the sleepy little town of Daphne, they find themselves in a virtual utopia. The small cottage they move into is lovely, but not so old that it has problems. The people are all friendly, a close knit town with a population of only 300. Both of the family's daughters begin to make friends in their new school and the husband and wife find themselves entranced with the romantic scenery.
But, if something is too good to be true, it probably is.


Graphic Violence

Drug Reference

Sexual Reference

Special Thanks:

BerkaZerka & Aman

For their invaluable feedback and help in the making of this game.


Update 1:

Fixed minor script issues

Update 2:

Fixed minor spelling/grammar errors



Articles Written

Overcoming the Fear of Criticism
People think your story sucks? This article is for you!

Recent Posts

Corona Tag! on 3/17/2020 7:20:26 PM
@BerkaZerka @BradinDvorak Sorry, but I'm infecting ya'll with the 'rona :P

Corona Tag! on 3/17/2020 6:57:48 PM

Hanna stared down into the bowl of stew. Usually, meals were graced with conversation and laughter in their family, but tonight was different. Her father was gone searching in the darkened woods and her mother sat sullenly staring at the hearth fire. It was not unusual for Hanna or one of her siblings to venture out into the woods during the day, but they always returned before dark. The sun had fallen behind the mountains some time ago now and her younger brother had not yet been found.

No one broke the silence, though Elva saw fit to distract herself by brushing her long golden hair and plaiting it carefully. Hanna's elder sister had always been vain, but to be so unbothered by the situation at hand... Hanna clenched her fist and set her bowl of food aside uneaten. It was quite late now, usually, all would be asleep at this hour of the night. Rest seemed wrong though and Hanna found herself peeking out of the door. The moon cast her cold light down around the small abode, the shadows of the trees seemed longer than normal and the wind wailed as it passed through the barren branches. The chill in the air suggested snow, a bad sign for children lost in the woods at night.

Her mother started to her feet when Hanna's father opened the door, but slumped back into her seat when she realized he was alone. Even Elva seemed disturbed by the news. None of them had dared to think Mikkel wouldn't be found after all.

Sleep did not come easily and Hanna found herself staring up at the roof long after her mother's sobs had ceased. Elva rose from her bed in the darkness, her feet barely making a sound on the dirt floor. She stole across the house to the door, slipping outside quietly. It wasn't all that strange for someone to go out in the night to relieve themselves, but Elva did not return until the morning. Her elder sister had no more snuck back into her bed than Hanna's parents began to wake.

Her father went to search again and her mother started the fire in the hearth. Hanna chose to go about her usual chores, gathering eggs, and feeding animals. It felt meaningless, but it passed the time. Next, she ventured into the woods to gather kindling, careful not to wander too far. The air was cold, but the snow had not yet dusted the ground thankfully. There were plenty of dry twigs and sticks for her to gather. As she gathered them into a bundle beneath one arm, Hanna caught a glimpse of movement in the trees.

Elva moved through the trees with a soft smile on her pretty face, sometimes glancing over her shoulder. Hanna frowned and trailed after her, staying behind the trees until Elva came to a small clearing sheltered by an ancient tree. She watched from behind a fallen log as her sister preened herself, tucking wisps of fallen hair behind her ears and pinching her cheeks to make them rosy pink. Rolling her eyes, Hanna realized her sister was probably meeting the neighbor boy again. How she could do so at a time like this was beyond Hanna's realm of thinking, but her sister had always been selfish.

She was about to sneak away when a man came around the old tree's trunk, this was not the neighbor boy. He was taller than their father, but his face was fairly youthful. His hair was long and black as the night with dark brown eyes set deeply into his skull. He was handsome, but Hanna's skin prickled at the sight of him. This felt wrong.

Elva wrapped herself about him like a vine and though his hands stroked her hair, his expression was that of boredom. He was not any neighbor of theirs, Hanna knew the other family's in the area. He must be from the town or perhaps just a wanderer. She froze when he looked at her, those piercing brown eyes of his suddenly flashing with amusement as a twisted smile tugged at the corner of his lip. Elva was too enthralled with him to realize his attention had turned elsewhere, but Hanna wished her sister would notice. She felt fear building in her chest as he held her gaze, licked his lips, and continued to run his fingers down the small of Elva's back.

It felt as if she was being held in place, gaze locked with that of the stranger. Her heartbeat frantically in her chest as she struggled to move. Finally, she broke free and ran for home. Elva's startled gasp caused her to look over her shoulder, seeing her sister's angry expression as the stranger watched with the same vile smirk on his face. Turning away, she kept running until she reached the edge of the woods and the house came into view.

Hanna stopped short as she was about to go inside, looking across at the small barn when movement caught her eye. A large bird sat perched upon the thatch roof, a creature she had never seen before. It looked very much like a raven but was far too large. It was as big as an eagle, looking down at her with an intent stare. It opened up its great wings, beating them hard as it took to the air, clutching what looked like a dead animal in its large talons. The mangled corpse was hard to identify as the bird took flight over the house and went out of sight. Hanna was about to dismiss it as an ugly type of eagle until she heard the loud thud from behind the house.

Running around the side of the house, Hanna hurried toward the source of the noise. She found her mother standing there amongst the remains of their summer garden. Her stance was rigid as she stared down at something laying at her feet. Slowly, Hanna approached her mother and peered around her skirts to see what the bird had dropped.

It wasn't an animal.

Mikkel's face was nearly torn away from his skull, exposing the muscles that still clung to the bones. His lower half was completely missing, one arm had been gnawed down to tendon and bone, while his abdomen had burst open when the bird dropped him from the sky. Claw and tooth marks covered what was left of his skin. No bird did this, but what beast would? The bears were all asleep for the winter and wolves would not have left so many scraps. He did not smell of rot and his remaining limbs were not stiff. Tears stung her eyes as the shock of what she was seeing began to wear off.

"Go inside, Hanna." Her mother's voice was hoarse, but she obeyed.

Elva sat upon her bed when Hanna entered through the door. She ran a brush through her long golden hair, humming pleasantly to herself. It made Hanna's stomach turn sour, how could she have been so calm with Mikkel missing? And now he is dead out in the garden while Elva brushes her hair and hums like a lovestruck fool. The thought of the man her sister had been with made Hanna's skin break out in chills.

"Mikkel is dead," Hanna said from across the room.

Elva paused, glancing sideways at her younger sister. "Is he?"

"Do you even care?"

Elva said nothing and continued to brush her hair, but she no longer hummed the happy tune from before. Anger replaced the sick feeling the pit of Hanna's stomach. How could Elva care so little? Was it really just because she was dumbstruck by a man?

"Who was that man?" Hanna asked quietly, clenching her fists as her sister continued to brush her hair and ignored her.

The night didn't come soon enough. Hanna's father returned home to the news. He buried Mikkel in the waning sunlight and her mother refused to leave her bed from grief. Elva barely seemed to care, but Hanna didn't want to think about her sister anymore. They all went to bed for lack of knowing what else to do that night.

Hanna awoke to a heavy weight on her chest. Blinking in the darkness, she struggled to move. Words died in her throat as she tried to cry out. Movement in the darkness caught her attention as she struggled, Elva sneaking back out again. Hanna felt the weight lift from her chest shortly after the door closed, gasping for air as she managed to call out for her parents at last.

Her father came, eyes bleary from fitful sleep and sorrow. Lighting a candle he cast the light around Hanna's bed before doing the same for Elva, only to notice her missing.

"She's been sneaking out," Hanna admitted as her father turned back around before continuing. "There's a strange man I saw her with in the woods today."

He stood quietly for a moment before turning and headed for the door without a word. Elva would be angry, but the fool should know better with such a beast about that could tear a boy apart like it had their brother. If it had even been a beast in the first place. He left the candle burning on the hearth, taking the lantern instead. The light was a relief from the darkness before as Hanna tried to calm her racing heart.

A sound on the roof made her jump to her feet. A heavy thump that caused dust to fall from the ceiling. Her thoughts turned to the large bird from before, but a bird seen during the day rarely came out at night. Hanna's mother came out finally, her eyes red and swollen from her weeping. The sound came again from another place on the roof, stopping her in her tracks.

"Father's outside," Hanna said softly, hurrying to her mother's side.

Her mother said nothing as she took her into her arms. They both looked up at the roof, waiting for the sound to come again. The door burst open instead, causing them both to recoil. Elva was dragged in by the arm, their father's face was twisted in anger as he threw her to the floor. Hanna watched as her sister slowly got to her knees, looking up at them from the dirt. One of her eyes was starting to swell.

"Your brother's corpse is still warm and you're sneaking out to meet with strange men," their father spat the words out as he paced the floor.

Elva smiled to herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and rocking back and forth slowly. Her eyes roamed the room, but never focused on anything or anyone. Hanna felt her mother's fingers dug into her shoulders, nails biting into her skin. Elva was a lot of things, selfish and vain. But, she had not been herself lately. This delirious, smiling creature before them seemed more like someone else wearing Elva's skin. A person couldn't change that quickly, could they?

"Who have you gone to see?" their mother spoke finally, her voice hoard and cracking.

"Pretty bird," Elva muttered with a soft giggle, her head lolling back as she gazed up at the roof.

The strange bird from before crossed Hanna's mind. Large enough to carry the body of a young boy in flight, but nothing she could identify. A thump on the roof sounded again as if something large was hopping across it toward the door. Elva burst into a fit of laughter, still hugging her knees as she rocked herself. Her sister had surely gone mad.

A knock at the door gave them all a start, though Elva hardly noticed as she continued to mutter under her breath. Hanna watched as her father strode toward it, flinging the door open. The light from their home spilled out into the darkness of the night, an empty space where a stranger had been expected was all that they found. Her father stood there for a moment, staring out into the cold night before he closed the door.

Elva went quiet, cradling her hands in her lap, as their father walked back across the room to stand behind her. Hanna couldn't read his expression. The anger was gone from it, but that rage had been replaced by something else entirely. He crouched down on one knee next to Elva, placing a hand on her shoulder much more gently than he had handled her before. She looked at him for a moment, appearing clear of mind before she wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed softly.

Hanna frowned as she watched the scene unfold. Elva had been in the midst of a seeming hysteria before, now reality must have finally come back to her mind. Her father's face was bewildered, but relieved. Until Elva clutched at him tighter and a wholly different expression took over his features as his face went pale. A gasp escaped his throat, wet and rasping as blood-spattered from his mouth. Elva's hand drew back, a dagger carved of bone clutched in her fingers before she drove it into his neck.

Hanna's mother screamed as she threw her aside, lunging for Elva all too late. Elva escaped out the door before she could be stopped, leaving Hanna to stare in shock as her father choked on his own lifeblood in her mother's arms. She didn't know what to do as she lay on the floor, watching him die. Her limbs would not listen to her as she thought to crawl towards her parents, leaving her frozen in place.

The door hung open, a cold wind causing it to creak slightly and the candle to falter. The flame went out with a particularly strong gust, leaving Hanna in darkness. The sounds of her father's breath gurgling and choking grew fainter and fainter. Soon all she could hear was her mother's weeping. Like a wounded animal, all of her sorrow coming out in great sobs and wailing.

Hanna almost missed the sound of wings on the wind for it.

A dark shadow flew across the room, up into the darkness of the roof beams. Its eyes reflected in the darkness, large and interested as it gazed down on her parents from above. Elva's laughter drifted in on the breeze from outside as Hanna tried to make her eyes adjust to the darkness. She could just make out the shapes of her parents in the room and of the large bird as it darted down from the beam down to a particularly dark corner of the room.

Hanna watched as the darkness seemed to spread out from the corner like a dense fog, taking form slowly as a man rather than a bird. Even in what little moonlight coming through the door illuminated, Hanna recognized the man from before. His eyes reflected the moonlight like a beast's would as he loomed in the corner, watching. It felt ages passed by as Hanna lay on the floor, watching the man, if he even was a man, watching them on the floor.

Finally, her mother took notice of the stranger, scrambling away from her husband's body and fumbling about for the flint and steel. She must have found the candle as well, the sound of stone striking steel sounded in the room and sparks lit up her mother's panicked face intermittently. The man didn't seem disturbed by the light, he didn't react at all except for his eyes to slowly move from the corpse of Hanna's father to her mother trying to light the candle.

A spark caught on the wick, slowly building itself into a flame that weakly lit the room in a flickering light. The man stood in the corner, still somewhat in the shadows. An amused smile graced his face as Hanna's mother held the candle out with a shaking hand. Elva was still laughing outside, the sound coming sometimes from the door and other times through the walls from various sides of the house. The man's head cocked slightly to the side, waiting.

"Does the mother love her children?" Its voice was not that of a man's at all. It sounded strained and rough as if he had not had water in days and came out as a low hiss.

Hanna's heart began to race as she watched her mother, the candle wobbling dangerously in her shaking hands. Tears streamed down her face and there was terror in her wide, unblinking eyes.

"Does the mother have a favorite?" A wide smile spread across its face, too wide. "Does she want the dead one back?"

"The dead cannot be brought back," her mother said weakly.

The man's smile grew, showing his teeth. A mouth filled with sharpened teeth, yellowed and glistening with spit. "Can't they?"

Her mother paused at that, her eyes betraying that she dared to consider it. The man moved closer, gliding across the dirt more so than walking. He stopped before her father's corpse, looking down at it with disinterest before turning his gaze to Hanna.

"No, the dead should be allowed to rest," her mother spoke up from across the room, her hand holding the candle more steadily now.

The man, or thing, glanced at her then, still smiling that vile toothy grin. "Does the mother love her daughters?"


He stared at Hanna for a moment then, eyes piercing into her just as before freezing her in place. She couldn't even cry under its gaze, her lip barely quivered in response to the fear she felt as he moved toward her. A hand with fingers far longer than they should have been reached out toward her. The nails were long, yellow, and cracked as they scratched against her cheek, followed by the strangely warm touch of his skin.

"Pretty bird," Elva giggled from the doorway, catching Hanna's attention long enough to break the creature's spell over her.

She gazed on in shock at her sister's state. Elva had removed her clothing and torn out much of her own hair. Bite wounds covered her body in various states of healing, though some were festering and infected. Her lips were gone, revealing bare gums and clacking bloodied teeth. Their mother sobbed at the sight of her, the candle shaking in her hand once more.

"Which does the mother love more?"

Hanna recoiled at the question, looking back at the creature wearing the skin of a man. He was still looking at her, breath stinking of rot. Elva stumbled toward them, the knife still clutched in her hand. She mumbled and giggled to herself as she moved, the man letting go of Hanna and moving away to give Elva room.

Elva lurched forward, falling to the floor beside Hanna and struggling to slash the knife through the air. All Hanna could do was kick with her legs to propel herself backward and away from her sister. She screamed for her mother, anyone to help her. But, her sister kept coming, stabbing the knife at her feet and sinking the blade into one of her legs—

"Hanna!" Her mother sobbed out. "I love Hanna more."

Elva paused at that, but she didn't turn to look at their mother or show hurt. Instead, she turned to the creature as it loomed over her, still smiling. It reached out to cradle her face, almost lovingly. Caressing her cheek and drawing her close, she went like a lamb to the slaughter into its embrace. Even when it sank her teeth into her neck, she didn't struggle. She caressed the back of his black hair and smiled until she went limp.

Elva fell dead to the floor, the front of her throat torn away.

The creature turned back to look at Hanna. "Does the mother love herself?"

"No," her mother answered coldly and the creature smiled.

Corona Tag! on 3/16/2020 9:02:47 AM
Oh this will be fun! Thanks for tagging me! I know exactly what I want to write. :)

Covid20 - continuing thingy on 3/11/2020 8:54:22 AM
I'm going to vote for getting sleep and going in for testing, but stop for breakfast at Waffle House on the way so you can cough on a waitress or something.

The Disappointment Periodical II on 3/10/2020 4:38:18 PM
I haven't done homemade cream corn in years and I miss it so much. That's one of the things I'm most looking forward to with my corn is having good home made cream corn canned and just ready to go in my pantry. The canned kind in the store just isn't the same.

The Disappointment Periodical II on 3/10/2020 4:29:30 PM
Guess and check method isn't bad at all. Knowing how to select produce that way is a valuable skill. While most brands do have quality control and try to keep their produce uniform, we've all been in a hurry and made it home with some lettuce that turned out to have a bad spot in it at least once. That can happen regardless of brand and only preventable by physically looking at it and trying to make sure it's good to go really. Now if you are interested in buying organic produce then you will want to do some research by brand. That label varies greatly and some brands may just meet minimum standards for it while others go way above and beyond. But, for non organic produce your current method is just fine :)

The Disappointment Periodical II on 3/10/2020 4:02:10 PM
You can share it, I think it only mentions the town he lives near so I don't think anyone could use that to doxx me as his neighbor. But, I'll leave that to your better judgement, you know more about doxxing and internet dangers than me lol. Everyone deserves to see the adorable ancient farmer who single handedly saved a historical variety of corn from extinction in my opinion.

The Disappointment Periodical II on 3/10/2020 3:58:07 PM
You're fine lol. There wasn't a war to begin with, my posts are all just fun fact type things about food preservation, seed varieties, and the impact, or lack thereof, of those things on flavor/texture and nutritional value as opposed to people just assuming that the thing they don't like about something's flavor is only due to it being frozen/bought in a store/canned. That just got misunderstood, likely due to a lot of skim reading by certain someones, as arguing I guess. Creamed corn is actually really good by itself as a side, by the way. Or if you just don't like it nevermind lol. I also use it in sweet corn casseroles and even some chowders. So for those who like it is very handy to have it canned ready to go on the shelf.

The Disappointment Periodical II on 3/10/2020 3:52:10 PM
Yeah, you tagged me and immediately said "Define: Farm Fresh". So I did. I'm not sure how you couldn't mean that literally, but ok. But, again I was having a busy work day and didn't get to just sit and read the dscord for that convo, I was popping in and out of it. So I must have completely missed where you tagged me again about the other question. I just remember popping back in and Mizal was the only one ok with frozen produce so I backed her up then had to go back to work. I never once mentioned preservatives and I already explained my stance on the matter of your point of eating it fresh same day as picked versus later, twice. So I'm not going into that again, especially since my last two responses clearly just got skimmed at best. Otherwise you'd already know I was agreeing with you to a degree, but also offering up some facts and such about other things that can contribute to the very issue you were complaining about besides something having been frozen, which doesn't really contribute to the issue you complained about. Also there is so much wrong with your comments on bacteria and apples, but I'm not even going to go there because you don't want to learn and aren't open to facts at all. But you clearly have no idea how fruit juices are made if you think boiling isn't necessary and is done only because "bacteria" lol. But, yeah good to know the convo was stupid. God forbid someone offer additional information on the subject because they're genuinely interested and think you are too. Especially if it means that your opinion might need to take other factors into consideration. You misconstrued just about everything I said, so while I don't think the conversation was stupid in and of itself, it was a total waste on you.^_^

The Disappointment Periodical II on 3/10/2020 9:45:21 AM
You tagged me and specifically asked me to explain what "Farm Fresh" means so I explained and will do so again. Your interpretation is not what Farm Fresh means(At least in the US), it only has meaning as a commercial buzz word. But I can appreciate how you're trying to use it now that you've explained. That may be one of it's meanings in Canada, I don't know. Just in the US it is only a buzz word and has no regulated meaning whatsoever so it's a little hard for me to think of it in any other terms honestly. As I mentioned before, even regulated terms used in food labels in the US can be extremely misleading. So it is important to know what terms might mean and which ones are just buzz words. Adding a new meaning to a term that is mostly used to mislead people into purchasing a product only adds to the confusion. Again, I have a feeling that isn't the case in Canada, but I'm in the US so that's where I'm coming from on labeling terms. I wouldn't go so far as to call corn in the grocery store trash either. If it's a cheap brand using a variety of corn that isn't bred for the best flavor, sure it might suffer in taste but nutritionally it's going to be very similar to a variety bred for flavor over hardiness. It isn't where you buy the produce that factors into flavor/nutritional value, it's the seed variety that the produce came from. Your local farmer may very well be using an inferior seed variety to the big corn brand company at the store, or they might use a superior seed variety. Different varieties also have different purposes. Some corn is bred for sweetness, some for production. If you're willing to spend the extra money, you can get a seed variety that does both. For example, I'm growing Buhl Sweet corn variety which has both sweet flavor, juicy kernals, and produces two ears per stalk as opposed to only one. So in my case, yes my corn is going to be better in flavor and production value as opposed to what I could get at the store unless I had access to a store with a very good organic corn brand(Which most stores do have if you're willing to pay for it). Or on the other hand, I have a neighbor who is in his 90's and recently made the local news because it was discovered that he is the last remaining cultivator of a once thought extinct corn variety. He is now the only known person in the world that grows that specific variety of corn and once that was made known he had all kinds of major seed companies hounding him for some so they could bring that variety back to life. Does the rarity and exclusivity of this corn make it better? No, it tastes like trash and is rather dry. It is used to feed his livestock or to sell to hunters to put out corn for deer. For those purposes, it is a fantastic corn seed variety and absolutely worth preserving and making available for other farmers to grow. But you would never want to buy it from him for human consumtion unless you just hate enjoying tasty food lol. It's flavor and texture is likely why it nearly died out in the first place. So again for those just skim reading. Seed variety causes the variation in flavor/texture of produce more so than the effects of any preservation technique (excluding techniques that introduce seasonings which obviously change the flavor). Anyway, before I get into the science of seed varieties, selective breeding of plants, hybrids, and GMO's, I'm going to cut myself off and just say that there is no guarantee that a local small time farmer is using a better or worse seed variety than the farmers who sell their harvests to big name brands you can buy in stores. Frozen and canned corn does not lose flavor in the preservation process alone. Again, seed variety is what impacts flavor, not preservation processes. User error is the only other factor I can think of. If you're freezing something and it loses flavor, then you've done something wrong either in how you preserved it or how you cooked it after thawing it out. If you don't store it properly and it gets a ton of freezer burn, then that's user error effecting the flavor/texture for example. If you store it properly, but don't thaw it properly then again that is going to effect the flavor/texture. If you store it properly and thaw it properly, but then have an oopsie with a recipe or the cooking process then of course that's going to cause an issue, but I'm sure you already know that of course. All the same points can be counted toward canning as well. I'm not trying to patronize you by mentiong placebo effect either, but be aware that some people do have that when going into this sort of conversation. They convince themselves preserved food is going to be inferior and mind over matter themselves right into not enjoying perfectly good produce just because they know it was frozen or canned at some point. To be clear, I do not believe that is the case with you, but it is a factor to consider for some people when it comes to this sort fo thing. TLDR; There is nothing wrong with you preferring fresh picked over frozen. I know I'm coming across as arguing with you, but this is something I care a lot about and I like to try and educate people about it when I can because there is so much misinformation out there about food. So please don't take offense, I'm just pointing out that the issue you have with frozen/canned produce is likely not due to the preservation process and it not being "fresh picked" but more of a variety or user error issue. Yes this did stem from you just mentioning the flavor/texture variance, but that comment does go hand in hand with some major food myths that exist that need to be corrected. I never thought you said food preservation was bad, but you did say that it effects flavor/texture. The other fact of the matter is that most people do not have the luxury of the choice you've stated. Does that make you wrong? No, it doesn't. You are correct that if given the choice between same day fresh produce and months after preservation produce that the former is better/preferred over the latter. But again, most people do not have that choice. And the difference, while there, is very, very minor. If you have the luxury of that choice in the first place, then you already have access to better nutrition than many other people do. There is nothing wrong with that, but making statements that such a luxury makes food vastly superior in nutrition, flavor, and texture is just incorrect on every possible level except for an extremely minor flavor/texture difference that most people won't notice unless they have the tongue of Gordon Ramsay. Edit to add: At least we can probably both agree that I'm autistic as fuck about produce lmao.