You crack open the carton, and there it is—an egg with a tiny feather perched on top, perfectly mimicking a tuft of unruly hair. For a moment, it feels less like breakfast and more like you’ve stumbled upon the farm’s most eccentric intellectual. You can almost imagine the Egghead lecturing the younger eggs about the philosophy of yolks and the existential purpose of shell fragility.
“Back in my day,” you imagine it saying, “eggs weren’t free-range; we were purposeful!” You chuckle, give the Egghead a respectful nod, and gently set it aside—after all, this egg clearly has ideas too big for the frying pan.
(Created in cooperation with artificial intelligence and professional post-production tools © Gesche Wendt, 2025)