Pancake Pete Paves Maple Lane
They say Pancake Pete once made the biggest breakfast the world had ever seen. His griddle was as wide as a pond, and his spatula was a barn door on a stick.
One snowy winter, the road called Maple Lane was nothing but mud and puddles. Wagons got stuck up to their axles. Pete felt sorry for the milkman, who had been pulling his cart out of the muck for weeks.
"I can fix that," said Pete. "I'm hungry anyway."
He mixed a batter from a hundred sacks of flour and a river of milk. He poured it across the griddle, and it sizzled so loudly that three towns woke up. When it was golden on one side, Pete flipped it with a mighty heave. The pancake flew high, spun twice, and landed with a soft *flump* along the whole length of Maple Lane.
It was warm, flat, and perfectly smooth. The wagons rolled right over it. The milkman sang all the way to market.
The only trouble was the smell. Every squirrel and sparrow in the county came to nibble the road. So Pete poured a little syrup on top to keep it shiny, and then he went back to the griddle to make a second breakfast.