"Tinka like to worky-work, worky all day long. Tinka like to whiskie-whisk, whiskie all day long."

The elf was singing merrily when all of a sudden her kitchen was being ruined! "Kitchen? What happ--WHISKIE! NOOOOOO!" She lunged for it, but missed. Her Precious was caught up in a cyclone of destruction. Tinka lunged after it, following it across the room as utensils and ingredients flew through the air.

And then as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

COUGH, COUGH. HACK, HACK. SNEEZE, SNEEZE.

"Flour everywhere! Kitchen a mess! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" She shook her head, trying to clear her vision. "Argyle? Tippin? Little Pips? You be okay??" Her ears began to twitch uncontrollably. "Where be Tinka's whiskie? WHISKIE!!!!!!!"