The Intergalactic Bake-Off and the Case of the Missing Nebula

Bartholomew Buttercup, renowned pastry chef of the Andromeda Galaxy, was having a meltdown. Literally. The oven in his space cruiser's galley had decided to spontaneously combust, leaving a trail of scorched cinnamon buns and singed soufflés in its wake. Bartholomew, sporting a toque askew and flour dusting his purple, three-fingered hands, glared at the smoking wreckage. 'Blast it all!' he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the otherwise silent cruiser. 'The Intergalactic Bake-Off is tomorrow, and now my signature cosmic croissants are toast!'