There were fifty-four kitchens in Hasselhoffer Castle, each one equipped with the finest appliances. There were refrigerators, and stoves, and ovens, and stove-top ovens, and microwaves, and stove top microwaves. There was lots of other stuff, too, like blenders and real high-end potato peelers and major fast-food chains. This sentence here will be the place where I will write in more detail about the Count's kitchens, but right now I wish to move on with the story. I understand the importance of describing the setting of a scene, but I don't feel as though I need to go over every little inch of every kitchen. At least not right now. In later drafts I will return to this passage and fill-in some well-written and typo-free descriptions of his kitchens. I may even provide a list of key historical events that took place in some of the kitchens. Like maybe Count von Hasselhoffer was conceived in kitchen 37D. That might work. Kitchen sex is sexy. I, of course, wouldn't go into detail about his conception, because, well, that would be too easy for a writer of my skillz, but still, the idea that his parents got it on in kitchen 37D intrigues me. Perhaps his father had just eaten some oysters and was feeling particularly randy after a long day of being rich. I don’t know; post-oyster eating sex is kind of cliché. I myself never feel particularly randy after eating oysters. I think their aphrodisiacal elements are way overrated. Now candy corn, on the other hand, totally revs my engines. After eight or nine handfuls, I am ready to work, if you know what I mean. My stomach does feel a bit queasy what with all the processed sugar just sitting in my gut preparing to muddy up my arteries and stuff, but nonetheless, I'm raring to go! However, as we all know, there wasn't candy corn in the olden days, so oysters will have to do for revving Count von Hasselhoffer's engine.

Anyway, back to the kitchens: they all were real cool and modern and people all over Hasselhofferania By-the-Sea took pride in knowing how pimped out the Count's fifty-four kitchens were.

(I use the term "pimped out" not only to prove how with it I am in regards to slang talk, but also to get young people to buy my masterwork because theirs is a demographic I wish to target. Young people are young and hip and I feel that they'll respond to my young and hip writing style. I may be on the dark-side of my middle 30s, but I know how to connect with young people through literary freestyle verbiage. To prove this, I plan to use the words "playa" and "phat" in my masterwork, as well. I feel with the use of these types of words, my masterwork will sell like crack cocaine and I will get to go on TRL and be showered with adulation from cute teenage girls. I will then show the video from my appearance to my sons when they themselves become teenagers so they can see what a phat pimped out playa their daddy was/is.)

It was kitchen 19B where Count von Hasselhoffer, Dame Maggie Percival Chatterlily, and Edith Stumplonia decided to prepare meat loaf paninis. The Count had originally wanted to use kitchen 49Q, but the police were still in there confiscating garlic presses and butter knives. Kitchen 19B had the better panini-press, so the Count was disappointed they had to settle on kitchen 49Q. He sat sulking on a stool in the Dairy Queen next to the pantry.

"Stupid police and their investigation," he said. "Once I'm registrar probate I'll show them what they can do with their stupid investigations."

"May I take your order, sir?" a teenage girl asked him behind the Dairy Queen window.

"No thanks, Wendy, I'm good," the Count replied.

"This panini-press will do fine, Count" Edith said. "Stop acting so disappointed."

"You haven't seen the other panini-press," the Count said. "It makes this one look like a hobo."

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Dame Maggie Percival laughed. She felt increasingly threatened by Edith's presence and tried to do all she could to stay in the Count's favor. "'Like a hobo'! Ha! Good one, Count! Priceless!"

"It wasn't that funny," the Count said.

A worried look came over Dame Maggie Percival Chatterlily's face. "Oh, right. Sorry," she said. She searched for something else to say to win the Count's approval. "You want to have sex?"

"May I take your order, sir?" It was Wendy from behind the Dairy Queen window again.

"No thanks, Wendy, I'm good," the Count replied.

"Can I go on my break now then? I need to text message my boyfriend," Wendy said.

"When was your last break?"

"Tuesday."

"No, then."

"Okay," Wendy said cheerfully.

Edith Stumplonia removed the meat loaf from between her thighs. For first-timers the sight was a little off-putting. There's something disconcerting about seeing a woman removing a giant loaf of meat from between her thighs. It's like watching a wildcat devour a squirrel. Sort of. Not really. Regardless, both Count von Hasselhoffer and Dame Maggie Percival Chatterlily turned away and covered their faces.

"There," Edith said dropping the meat loaf on the kitchen counter. "Now let's get to making some kick-ass paninis, shall we?"

"Is it over yet?" the Count asked.

"I don't know," Dame Maggie Percival Chatterlily said. "I'm afraid to look."

This post is dedicated to cough drops.