Huh? Computer scientist originally… passionate about car mechanics, then now mechatronics

… and then suddenly, tomorrow, I’m entering the competition for the best baker in France? 🤣

Of course, I can pretend… after all, it’s just a matter of flour, water, and a few other ingredients, right?

Before the competition even begins, I’m wowing everyone by promising that my cakes will be by far the best, that my baguettes, breads, and other pastries will be exceptional, compared to the other competitors…

Obviously, on the day of the competition, I can’t keep up my illusions anymore! Pastries with random consistency, random compositions, random baking times…

And of course, I’ve created nothing but crap. Ugly, misshapen, undercooked, overcooked, tasteless things—in short, absolutely awful.

I even tried to be original by creating cakes in the shape of mechanical objects, like screws and nuts, but no one was keen on the concept. People really lack imagination.

Given my megalomania, there’s no way I’m admitting that I’ve failed miserably on every level.

It’s the wicked jury who failed to recognize my masterpieces at their true value. The public are nothing but critics who didn’t understand my work, even though I gave it my all, until 1:00 in the morning… It’s hurtful, it’s unfair.

But by the way, Elman, why did you enter this competition when you obviously… don’t know anything about it?

Well, because in the list of competitors, I saw that there was a baker I hate, and for that reason alone, I wanted to participate just to prove to him that I’m no worse than him.

And I’m ready to do anything to achieve that. Bribing the jury, diverting the public’s votes, intimidating those who don’t like me—in short, I’m ready to completely subvert the system so that it declares me the winner of the competition.

There you go, all that’s stupid and moronic, isn’t it? I don’t need you to tell me. And yet, io izy io, idiots really dare anything, I’ve just brilliantly demonstrated it to you.

Is this scenario a surreal one? Besides, no one on the set or among the organizers dares to eject me from the competition, everyone is paralyzed by my nerve and audacity.

We won’t forget my little fan club of solelakists, who “encourage” me and praise my approach, with great bootlicking. And they castigate the critics who don’t appreciate their master’s masterpieces at their true value.

Any resemblance… blah blah blah… characters… blah blah blah… purely coincidental.