You go down the winding staircase, eager to escape the sinister arguing voices. The stairs seem to twine around and around in an endless spiral, but eventually they come to a stop before a heavy iron door.

Without knowing why, you shiver.

Who knows what could be beyond that door... a musty dungeon, the witness to thousands of unspeakable tortures, perhaps. Or worse horrors still; there are stories of castles which keep dragons and wild beasts in cavernous pits underground.

You open the door reluctantly...

.

.

.

And find a kitchen, bustling with activity and harried-looking men and women.

An imposing woman stomps up to you and thrusts a white apron into your hands.

"You must be the new kitchen boy," she shouts over the noise. "Don't just stand there, get a move on! The King and Queen are coming for a visit tomorrow, and we have to get their banquet prepared! And those potatoes aren't going to scrub themselves!"

Still somewhat confused as to what's going on, you put on your apron and begin chipping away at the mountain of unwashed tubers.

Oh well, you think to yourself. It's a living.