His heart raced as the battle with his foe reached its climax.

  This was the most fearsome adversary he had ever had to tangle with in his life.

  How unreasonable. How unfair! The world should bend itself to his liking. Without any effort on his part. Beyond making a wish in his mind.

  His manxome foe disagreed. It even grinned at him as it opened its maw. Mocking him. MOCKING HIM.

  The result was the same as every other time they had fought.

  The waffle was torn in half, right through the center.

  And Tofu wailed.

  After scraping off the remains of his waffle with one of his butter knives, and morosely swallowing the resulting torn apart crumbs... Tofu was once again convinced he had to be doing something wrong. But he was following the instructions exactly... he wasn't one to half-ass things to begin with, but for something this important, he absolutely wouldn't!

  He was following all the instructions on the waffle iron. He followed all the instructions on the waffle mix box. He oiled up the iron just like it said to do... and yet, he got this again. Every single time.

  He was beginning to take his theory that the waffle iron might be evil, or had triggered somehow, seriously.

  He glanced over at his kids hanging out in the living room. They were busy.... with their own stuff. Tofu would normally be a proud father that his damn kids had found some interests and were becoming more independent. At least he would, if said activities didn't give him what the sandwiches would call the 'heebie-jeebies'.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  One problem at a time, Tofu. The important stuff first, then worry about the kid's social environment later.

  This issue was so serious, it required the most outlandish of approaches to solve it: a coherent plot chain. Where a sequence of consecutive, or near consecutive, scenes connect into one another in a logical manner.

  Until then, the kids were on their own.

  Trebla sneered at the offer to appear in Super Minion Becomes Super Dad, tossing the letter into a paper shredder.

  Desperate for content they may be, it was their own fault for choosing such a mechanistic style. If every chapter had to be its own bespoke unique idea, of course it would run its course quickly! The joke could barely sustain itself for a few thousand words! What were they thinking!

  His plots were the works of beauty. They required several chapters of foreshadowing, set up, execution, cool down, and pay off. This was the one thing he absolutely could never be flexible in.

  They could not be contained within a 'shitposts in a comment section' aesthetic!

  He swilled the wine in his glass as he gazed out of the window of his high-rise.

  No, they chose the hard and unpopular route on their own. They'd have to find their 'content' elsewhere.