To that end, her current method of production, one that had proved moderately successful in the past, involves chucking a load of ingredients into a bowl, mixing them up a bit, removing the lumps, stringy bits, and any remaining signs of life, slamming it into an oven hotter than the surface of the sun, and hoping for the best.
So far it was going alright, but there was one little fly in the ointment (as well as a moth in the batter, a woodlouse in the cream, and a rather confused wasp in the anchovy jam).
To describe the enterprise as going alright, was only alright if going alright was defined as not going very right at all and going all wrong.
Two batches had exploded on contact with anything warmer than an ice cube, one had been so incredibly and irretrievably dense that the biscuit
