[ WP ] After brushing your teeth in the morning you go downstairs to fry an egg , but when you try the frying pan buzzes at you and text appears reading , `` level 18 cooking required to use object '' .

`` Fuck this'' I thought, `` I'm not grinding bowls of cereal again, where's the nearest trainer?'' 
 
 According to my GPS, there was a cooking trainer at the local cafe, two blocks away. Must be new, had n't been there 4 weeks ago. Did my area get patched again? 
 
 I checked the public feed for info while I walked but could n't see anything about an update in my district. Must be a new player-run-business. 
 
 I came to a small hole-in-the-wall. 
 
 `` Hi'' I said to the slightly-built redhead behind the counter, `` are you the chef?'' 
 
 `` Yep'' she said, `` what can I get you today?'' 
 
 `` Uh, training?'' 
 
 `` Training?'' 
 
 `` Absolutely'' I said. `` How much each level?'' 
 
 `` What's your current skill level?'' 
 
 `` 14'' 
 
 `` Fuck me dead,'' she broke into a laughing fit `` You mean you're a grown player out of tutoring and you ca n't even fry an egg with a pan? What do you do, cook with your microwave and eat cereal?'' 
 
 I shuffled uncomfortably to one side. 
 
 `` Holy shit,'' her mouth remained open. 
 
 `` I was level 22, I was cooking mince and pasta last week.'' 
 
 `` And?'' 
 
 `` Drinking session, picked up an alcohol poisoning trait over the weekend.'' 
 
 `` But the XP loss-'' 
 
 `` Heavy drinking session. I picked up the trait when I woke up in hospital.'' 
 
 `` Oh,'' her expression changed `` that sounds unfortunate.'' 
 
 `` So, how much to get to level 18 today?'' 
 
 She mulled it over for a moment. 
 
 `` Look,'' she said, taking in my 5 day old stubble, smell of mi goreng, and tomato sauce stains. `` You seem like you could use a decent meal, how about this. You buy breakfast here, and I'll teach you 4 levels for... $ 200.'' 
 
 `` $ 200? That's absurd! The trainers at the technical center only charge $ 30 a level!'' 
 
 `` Well I'm a small business owner, do you see anyone else cooking here?'' She gestured into the tiny kitchen directly behind her. `` Not to mention any other staff? I have to do everything here, wait tables, clean, cook, take money-'' 
 
 I looked around as she continued rattling off complaints. 
 
 `` You have one high bar table and four chairs'' I said, cutting her off. `` Counting the size of the kitchen and the counter here that gives you a total floor space of about 4 square meters. Sounds like it's easy enough to manage by yourself.'' 
 
 `` You forgot the tables and chairs outside, dipshit.'' 
 
 I looked out the front. 
 
 `` You mean the milk crates and pallets out there?'' 
 
 `` It's artisanal you plebeian. Hand made from recycled materials. For the aesthetic.'' 
 
 `` What, hobo chic?'' 
 
 She huffed. `` Well well, look who put all their points each year into INT and witticisms. How's that *renumerate* you for your clearly *erudite interjections* into the *operating populace*?'' She let each longer word hang like she was pronouncing the name of a rare artifact. 
 
 `` I do ok! I write for a respected magazine.'' 
 
 `` Well you should be able to afford $ 200 then!'' 
 
 `` You know what, fuck it. I'm going to go home and microwave my fucking eggs and you can deal with it. They've got something in common with yours actually, they were fated to remain unfertilized for their entire existence.'' 
 
 `` Fucking misogynist cunt'' 
 
 `` In your dreams, Julia Child. Best of luck feeding people in your public toilet.'' 
 
 `` Told her'' I thought, walking back to my house. 
 
 The egg was cracked into my noodles and put in the microwave. Truth be told I really did only have my high INT stat and a lot of things in the speech skills tree, wit and humor being the main two. I had thought when I finished my tutorial that a high INT would set me up for life with an easy gold farm and whatever I could n't talk my way through I could just pay for. Unfortunately, many others seemed to have thought of my same plan for an comfortable life and I was struggling to find any decent work. Writing sex comics was the best I could do, I did n't even draw them, just scripted them. They were so crass and simple, I enjoyed the humor opportunities but honestly the punchl-. 
 
 And then my microwave exploded. The egg had popped, and I'd been unlucky enough to fail a random chance save and my egg somehow had critically hit my microwave. It was now a steaming pile of electronics that I had no electronics skill to repair with. 
 
 `` Fuck'' 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 
 
 I walked back into the shop with the redhead chef. 
 
 `` Oh hello, back again?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, just looking for a meal please.'' 
 
 `` Oh, what happened to your grand microwaved banquet you were preparing?'' 
 
 I looked at her and grunted. `` Just your cheapest breakfast please.'' 
 
 I paid my money and she walked around to cook it for me. 
 
 I stared out the tiny window to the street outside. Player transport moved past. Players in raiding parties coming back from dungeons, combat-based an otherwise, tutors dropping off noobs to starting areas for tutorial quests, high level players walking past in epic gear, posing with it for photos because they could. 
 
 I wished I had some epic loot. The best dungeon I'd raided was 8 months ago, I went drinking at a tavern with some friends and then we went off to a nightclub and completed a series of fetch quests. Then they went to stomp goblins and I got ganked by a trio of rouges, they stole my +2 PER mirror shades and the book of medical science I had received as a quest reward that night. Then when I chased them they lead me into a large square outside the club, froze me with an ice blizzard potion, and pickpocketed my underwear off me. Fucking greifer cunts. 
 
 `` So, you always been a grumpy writer?'' asked the red head. 
 
 `` Yeah. You always been a chef?'' 
 
 `` Yeah. Kinda fell into it. Had a thing for cooking, but was trying to be a space miner actually. Then on one of my first dungeons I looted a +30 cooking hat from an epic zombie that my friends and I had all worked together to take down. It was all I got out of it, cost me $ 400 worth of HP potions.'' 
 
 `` And so you decided to be a chef there and then?'' 
 
 `` Well yeah, I had nothing else going on but a shitty McJob I was using to grind my speech skills tree. So why not?'' 
 
 She turned and smiled at me while saying this, proud of her achievement. I admit I was too, she'd taken her opportunity and jumped at it, build and stats be dammed. 
 
 `` Well, you've done a hell of a lot more then me. I'm impressed, you seem like a really motivated player. I write porn.'' 
 
 Her eyebrows raised at that. 
 
 `` Comic porn in shitty magazines'' I continued `` it's a fucking grind by at least I'm using my skills, right?'' 
 
 `` And do you like writing porn, Mr Ron Jeremy?'' she said, continuing to smile at me. 
 
 `` The job blows, but then again it also sucks. And sucks pretty good.'' 
 
 We both chuckled at my awful joke, me perhaps a little too long. 
 
 `` Anyway,'' she said, `` here's your eggs.'' 
 
 `` Thank you'' said the masked man standing in the doorway. `` I'm starving.'' He'd arrived out of nowhere with his two friends outside at sometime. 
 
 He grabbed the plate off the counter. 
 
 `` Mmmm, I've been so horny all day'' he said unzipping his pants. He then proceeded to tea-bag the plate. His friends started pissing themselves with laughter, rolling around on the pavement. 
 
 `` Fucking greifers'' she said. 
 
 `` Tell me about it'' I said. 
 
 A moment passed while we let the arseholery in front of us continue. 
 
 Finally, she spoke again. 
 
 `` Hey, you got any small arms skill?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, level 20.'' 
 
 Eyebrows were raised. 
 
 `` Want this shotgun?'' 
 
 EDIT: I keep noticing mistakes with repeated words or misspellings. Nothing is being rewritten! Will continue tomorrow/at a later date.
