You know, I think I’ve had quite enough of modern kitchen design for one lifetime, and that lifetime has currently been on the go for four-hundred years and counting. The royal family only kept me on the payroll because I was so very good at transfiguration spells, and they wanted stuff done every single day. Magic has a price, I kept telling them, but they said they were happy to provide all the centaur hooves and fire-beetle mandibles, so long as I changed the colour scheme of the throne room, or made the Prince’s bedchambers into a wet n’ wild fun times water-park for him and his friends, or changed the kitchen to the latest style in the neighbouring kingdom.
Oh, modern kitchen design really took it out of me. Such intricacies in a kitchen, so many tiny factors and tools and machines and other things to consider. But the queen wanted it done over and over again, because she was never quite happy with how her castle kitchen measured up to the kitchens in the Marshland Territory to the South. Of course, they got THEIR kitchens renovated, and so the cycle just kept on going until we ended up with an impossibly-complex kitchen layout that gleamed like the sun and could prepare, cook and serve food simply by tossing a hog or horse in the door and giving it fifteen minutes.
It went quite overboard, and now I’m here in Melbourne, where modern kitchen design also grips the nation. They love it so much they’ve made a whole museum showing kitchens through the ages.
It’s not for me. I need a break from kitchen remodelling…all kinds of kitchen design, if I’m honest. My final act was making it so the kitchen could suddenly shift to any room in the castle, at any time, and then it would relentlessly hound the person who opened the door and not stop until they accepted and ate a braised hog sandwich with special gnome sauce. I’d just had enough, by that stage. And that’s why I’m here…
-Tully McCully Mackanully, Fo’Shully