This archive report was first published on 9 September 2019.
As I stood in my kitchen, ready to take on the challenge of making the perfect onion sandwich, I couldn't help but think of my ancestors, who were renowned for their culinary skills. Little did I know, my family's reputation was about to take a hit.
It all started when I decided to post my cooking exploits on social media. I had seen others do it, and I thought, 'Why not me?' I mean, who doesn't love a good meal, right? But, as it turned out, my culinary skills were not quite up to par.
After what seemed like an eternity, I finally found the onions under a pile of potatoes in the store. I began to chop them into small pieces, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. But, as I looked back at my life, I couldn't help but wonder where I acquired all that taste for fine things like sandwiches.
That's when it happened. Tears began to flood my eyes, and I felt an intense burning sensation. I resembled a person who had just lost a loved one. Or, someone who was waiting for their food in a restaurant, only to see the waiter take it to another table.
It was then that I realized, I had stumbled upon a long-standing feud between humans and onions. A generational curse, perhaps? Or, was it just a case of bad luck?
Whatever the reason, I knew I had to get out of there before things took a turn for the worse. I quickly cut the onions from the balcony, looking away from the wind to avoid another tearful experience.
But, my relief was short-lived. As I turned back to the kitchen, I was met with a scene from a horror movie. My beloved sandwich was lying dead in the pan, reduced to a tiny black ball. The smoke emanating from the kitchen was causing global warming in Eastern Europe and Asia, denying them valuable carbon credits.
My career as a vlogger specializing in onion sandwiches had suffered a premature death. And, as I stood there, staring at the charred remains of my sandwich, I couldn't help but wonder: why do onions hate us so much?
