How I Set a Cooking Class on Fire and Ended Up in a Mystery Drama

The Plan Was Simple: Don’t Embarrass Myself
When my friend Bola signed me up for an elite cooking class, I had doubts. My idea of cooking? Burn rice, rename it smoked jollof, and call it a day. Bola hyped it up: “This is your glow-up moment. Imagine you making gourmet meals. Girls will love it!”

I was skeptical, but the idea of flexing my “new skills” on Instagram was tempting. How bad could it be? Spoiler: worse than I ever imagined.

Act 1: The Duck Dilemma
Our instructor, Chef Marcel, radiated intimidation. “Cooking is precision,” he said with a glare that could sauté onions. He handed us raw duck breast and gave a speech about respecting the craft.

I got to work, but my hands had other plans. The duck slipped out mid-chop, landed on the floor, and skidded straight into someone’s designer shoes. Gasps filled the room.

“Sorry!” I blurted, scrambling to pick up the duck. The shoe owner looked at me like I’d ruined their life savings. Chef Marcel sighed. “We’ll move on to pan-searing—assuming you can handle heat.”

Act 2: Oil Explosion
Pan-searing sounded easy. Heat oil, place duck, flip it like a pro. Except, I mistook “a little oil” for half the bottle.

As soon as the pan heated up, the oil erupted. A hot geyser sprayed across my station like it was auditioning for a disaster movie. My classmates screamed. Chef Marcel dived for the fire extinguisher.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” he yelled as the alarm blared. I stood frozen, drenched in oil, wondering if I’d just invented culinary arson.

Act 3: Salty Custard and Suspicion
After the fire was contained, Chef Marcel moved me to “custard duty,” probably to keep me away from flames. Simple task: whisk eggs, add cream, sugar, and stir.

I grabbed the nearest jar of white powder and dumped it in. Big mistake. It was salt. My custard tasted like heartbreak. My classmates took one bite and gagged. “Bro, are you trying to poison us?” someone joked.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, chaos erupted when someone shouted, “My Rolex is missing!”

Act 4: The Missing Watch Drama
The room descended into Nollywood-level drama. Chef Marcel locked the doors. “Nobody leaves until we find it!” he barked.

People started accusing each other. Bags were searched. Suspicious glances flew around. The tension was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.

And then—plot twist—the missing Rolex was found. Guess where? Inside the duck I’d pulverized earlier. Turns out, someone thought it’d be funny to “season” the duck with a luxury watch.

The room burst into laughter. Chef Marcel looked ready to resign.

The Twist: From Disaster to Drama Star
As I was preparing to flee and never cook again, Chef Marcel pulled me aside. “You’re a disaster,” he said bluntly. “But you’d make great TV.”

He handed me a flyer for a reality cooking competition. Against my better judgment, I signed up. I didn’t win, but my accidental chaos made me a fan favorite. Now I’m known as “The Firestarter,” and I host comedy segments about cooking fails.

Who knew ruining custard could lead to this?

Burning oil and salty custard might sound bad, but when the missing Rolex turns up inside a duck, you know you’ve unlocked peak chaos. For more laugh-out-loud disasters and epic life fails, dive into The ‘Oops!’ Chronicles.