Once upon a time, in the deepest, darkest recesses of a remote swamp, there stood carved into the remains of an ancient tree a hovel. And within the dread bowels of that hovel, leaning over a black boiling cauldron set into a fireplace, stood an ogre. The beast stirred the unholy broth of unimaginable ingredients as the flickering flames cast ominous light against its green skin and tall, broad frame. Every so often it would open a jar and drop in some other ungodly item into seething concoction ... eye of newt ... wing of bat ...
"Mushrooms!" Fiona spat in frustration, peering into an empty jar. "Rats! We're out of slimy back mushrooms!"
Fiona slammed the jar down and shook her head angrily, chiding herself for not checking to make sure she had all the ingredients before starting the stew. She dipped a long-handled spoon into the mixture and started stirring again. Then, suddenly, the ogress was taken by surprise as two massive arms encircled her from behind and she felt pressure at the base of one of her trumpet-shaped ears.