Melifril pursed his lips in concentration, but before he could voice his thoughts, of which he had none at the moment, his boss, Jorlin, shook his head, "Damn it." It was the second time that day that the market had dipped.

No one was looking to buy the shares of Bakers of East now that they were worth plain cookies instead of their usual 'triple-threat-fudge-dipped-devil's-sin' ones.

Jorlin's heart broke. He wondered how the economy would make it out of this crisis. What would happen to all the cookies in their vault!? Wouldn't they go to waste if no one needs them anymore?

The distraught man shook his head, "At this rate, our treasury will rot. We need a miracle."

BEEEEEEP!

"Now what!?" The older man exclaimed, pulling out his phone. His eyebrows crawled up and hid under his dark red hair as he scanned the message. Then, "We need to visit the vault, young man."

"What's happened, Sir?" Melifril asked, cautiously, though his boss seemed to have a grin like the kind the sight of triple-threat-fudge-dipped-devil's-sin cookies might leave on one's face.

"Well, my boy, Bun and Butter Co. want to invest in Bakers of East. Do you know what that means?"

"No, Sir." The novice replied and waited to be enlightened.

"They are taking a loan of one million triple-threat-fudge-dipped-devil's-sin cookies from us, which, my dear Melifril, will single-handedly revive the economy and save our cookies too."

"Oh. Is that so?"

Jorlin bobbed his head and rushed towards the vault, the key to it hanging on the belt around his protruding tummy, a testament to the cherry overload cookies he had devoured without Beril, his boss, finding out.

Was it so unheard-of to get tempted by the slew of delights staring one right in the face, especially when one has been making trips to the vault that holds the said delights at least twice a day?

Jorlin unlocked the treasury door and asked his subordinate to hold the door open just enough for the both of them to step inside.

Poor Melifril almost had a heart attack at the sight of the cookies, some of which he had never seen in person.
"Sir... " He whispered, as the fragrance of well-preserved cookies engulfed him in a seductive embrace; he glanced at Jorlin, a sense of wonderment coursing through him.

"Sorry, Melifril. I should have warned you." The older man smiled fondly, looking upon the contents of the vault. "A delectable sight, aren't they?"

The younger man nodded; his eyes shone, and his stomach grumbled. A moment later, embarrassment colored his cheeks. It matched the shade of cherry cookies piled right next to him. "Sorry, Sir."

"It's understandable. Now, we need to fragrance lock all the triple-threat-fudge-dipped-devil's-sin cookies before Bun and Butter's securer comes knocking on our door. Let's get to work, shall we?"