Ozymandias Crustulum

I am tired in the bones.  But the creation of essays has been overshadowed by a creation of far greater importance.  Far greater power.  And far greater terror.

The world was restless.  On the streets, the cookie-baking freestyle fighters whispered of a new challenger.

They said making a chocolate-chip cookie of such a size would break men's mouths.  But to cover the top with chocolate dip?   Was there no end to my ambition?

No.

The world was not ready for my ideas.

 

What had I wrought?  The chocolate density... the cookie cakiness was flawless.  But even as one cookie fighter after another fell to my onslaught, still I was not satisfied.  There was more.

There was one cookie-baker who laughed at my creation.  He was a layer maker.  He constructed intricate folds of chocolate crumble and vanilla sweet.  Beside cocoa's yin he added white-icing's yang in a seamless harmony.  His style was strong.  He challenged my chocolate-chip behemoth with his own oreo-blend.

"Your two layers cannot match my three!" he laughed, "is this the really your best?"

My head lowered.  But my mouth twisted into a grin.  "Mada mada!" I was not done, yet.  As he bit into my victory, his eyes bulged with shock.  What did he find within the eye of the storm... his own power turned against him.

I who have contained perfection within perfection, oreo within chocolate-chip, have grasped the reigns of fate.

Look upon my works, ye mighty... and despair.