The Wizard’s Table Codex
Laughter at the end of the world.
— Entry 001 —
How to Measure the Collapse of an Empire.
Bread no longer rises.
It started in the northern cities. People swore the yeast was fine, the ovens were warm, but nothing rose. Dough just… lay there. Silent. Flat. Unbothered. Some said the air had changed. Others blamed grief in the grain—grief no fire could lift.
The collapse didn’t begin with a riot. It began with a thousand quiet kitchens, and bread that forgot how to become bread.
Bureaucrats rename joy as risk.
It all started during a budget meeting when a suggestion was made to impose a tax on dancing. Laughter erupted—until it became necessary to obtain a permit for laughter itself.
Before long, every source of joy faced intense examination. Joy wasn’t banned; it was simply rendered costly, cumbersome, and subtly stigmatized.
In time, individuals ceased their quest for happiness altogether. Instead, they turned to activities like conformity and mastering the skill of grinning at their own reflections on social media.
Someone starts a podcast called-Cilantro Is a Lie.
Initially, it was merely a discussion on culinary science. It touched on flavor receptors, the historical spice trade, and a covert military project linked to coriander.
However, as the episodes progressed, they took a bizarre turn. There were segments featuring cooks who asserted that cilantro communicated with them during their dreams.
Some callers reminisced about a period when cilantro had a divine flavor rather than a soapy one.
By the time episode 19 aired, the host vanished without a trace. Listeners reported her final words were a haunting whisper: ‘It’s not the herb—it’s the story behind it.’
Soup is classified as a controlled substance.
Initially, it was merely a tomato. Too vibrant. Too enticing. Too simple to distribute. Then, lentil came under scrutiny—its lengthy cooking times deemed ‘alarmingly social.’
Eventually, even broth found itself being monitored. A national hotline was established: ‘If you notice something simmering, report it.’
All public consumption of soup was prohibited after a rebellious grandmother in Ohio served pho, igniting a movement.
Now, having soup without a permit results in a fine and a compulsory six-month retraining in meal replacement guidelines.
Laughter as Medicine
You’re still allowed to laugh. That’s why they’re afraid of it.
Entry 001