It was a Monday afternoon in 16th century England.
Deep in the ground, there was a fantastical wizard who loved to test and cast spells: for both amusement and problem solving. That wizard tried to create many potions that vary in effects, e.g., solving world hunger, stopping worldwide conflicts, and turning water into quicksand that tastes like porridge. When the wizard woke up from his sleep, he was immediately eminent in brainstorming what kinds of magic he can execute for good reason. He also liked to enter his personal owl's room and greet him at any time he felt like it.
The wizard's name was Merlin.
One morning, Merlin's alarm clock made out of swirly clouds and storms made loud thunder, waking him up and getting him to sweep away the clock before going to his bathroom. He washed his hair and face with nice, warm water and he dried himself with a soft, smooth towel that he usually possessed. He quickly ran to his pet owl's room and poked him awake with his magic wand.
"Good morning, owl," said Merlin with a smile.
"For goodness' sake, can't you give me a name already?" asked the owl. "You've had me for a fortnight and I still don't have a name! I'm starting to feel more like a worthless being than a pet because of you!"
"Pipe down!" growled Merlin. "I'm trying to give you a name! Just give me some time to think, you nocturnal nutcase!"
"After two weeks," the owl shouted, "you still haven't thought of anything?! Can't you name me 'Jerry' or 'Lenny'?!"
"I'll name you 'Surly'," Merlin declared, "because that's what you are."
Surly groaned in frustration as he slid down his erect, wooden post.
Merlin went to the kitchen to eat some breakfast, since as he always said, "Breakfast is more important than giving owls names!" Of course, Surly always heard Merlin's made-up phrases and rolled his eyes at the idea of Merlin pulling sayings out of thin-air. Merlin looked through his cabinet and saw some breakfast items: cereal, bagels, and toast. He tried his best to figure out what he should have for his millionth breakfast, but his mind went blank. He was starting to run out of decisions to make since he was one of the oldest beings in England. He just had to think of something new to do…
"I have an idea!" shouted Merlin. "I'll invent a new type of breakfast! The world will love these new, tasty treats that I'm planning to make! Hey, Surly, do you hear that?!"
"Go away!" Surly yelled. "Can't you see I'm trying to rethink and contemplate why I'm still here with you?!"
"Surly, I will make some delicious marsh - "
"Be quiet!" shouted Surly as he fluffed his pillow for a long nap. "Shut up, and good night!"
So Merlin went down, down, down into one of his special lairs for testing possibly dangerous spells. When he arrived at the door, he opened it with a creaking sound accompanying the hinges. "I love being dramatic," said Merlin for some reason. He slowly walked up to a large table occupied by potions and magic powder before making some room for himself. He crouched under the table, picked up some huge books, and swiftly turned through all of the pages for each of the books. Although he couldn't find any spells that made delicious marshmallows, he did notice a trick about how to create stones that can skip on water, no matter how bad they were thrown.
"If I can make rocks that can always skip on water, I can make marshmallows that can always skip on taste buds," Merlin concluded without any other sort of evidence. (He really is an idiot.)
After "spicing up" the directions to cook marshmallows instead of stones, Merlin went to work. He took a cauldron, a wand, many books, reference notes, taxes (hey, wizards have to pay too, you know), etc. After three hours of hard work, he looked into the brewery to see the potentially beautiful creations he had been toiling over. A marshmallow ascended from the depths of the "magic juice" in the cauldron, causing Merlin's eyes to widen at the sight. It was in the shape of a rainbow (it had the colors of one as well) and there were sparkles of magic surrounding the treat. Merlin got so hungry that he almost took a bite out of it. At least, he would have eaten it if Surly hadn't flown into his lair, aggressively pecking at the wizard's head for not feeding him during the three hours that Merlin wasted by working on his breakfast.
"It's lunch time you fool!" Surly screamed in fury. "Why didn't you get me something to munch on?! It's always about you, isn't it?! Guess what? It's not always about you! Take some responsibility and make me some food, since you're the only one with manipulative muscles, you donkey! Get to that kitchen and prepare a meal this instant, young man!"
"Oh, dear…" Merlin groaned with owl peck marks all over his occipital lobe. "Am I the unluckiest person on Earth?!"