In the summer of 1965, in a village renowned for it's culinary arts, a young aspiring chef who went by the name of Abraham Giancarlo Pann sat in his recently purchased new home, all alone, thinking of the many ways with which he could entertain himself, and further improve his art with food. But alas, he had no money, because he had spent it all on his house. And he had no possessions, because he sold them all to get enough money to buy said house. The only things that he had to his name, were four-dozen hawk eggs that he kept in a rugged leather satchel, and an old wooden pan-handle. All he could do was sit in his empty husk of a house, on a cold, hard maple floor.
Abraham was bored. He was so bored that he spent his days doing nothing but thinking, thinking of what he could do with his satchel of hawk eggs and his pan handle. Naturally, over time, young Abe became hungry. With no food to eat, he gradually became more and more hungry until he could think no longer. Thoughts turned to images of chocolate burritos, and his dreams were haunted with angry faces crafted crudely from bacon and eggs. Day in, day out. Minutes became hours, hours became days, days became weeks. And every time he had the same dream. Eggs and bacon. Eggs and bacon. Eggs... EGGS! Struck with the idea to end all ideas, he concocted a recipe of great aspiration. The recipe was for the largest omelette ever made. He would make a fortune in selling the recipe to big-shot companies, and at the same time, he'd be able to fill his ever-grumbling stomach. He would kill two birds with one stone.
Act - II
"The Pan of Justice"
Abraham had the idea in his head, but in order to cook such a feast, he would require a frying pan of colossal size. So he set off on an expedition up the great Mount Skillet, in the hope that the Gods of Culinary Delight would bless his old pan-handle and forge him a pan which would allow him to cook the eggy treat. On his travels up the mountain, Abraham collected all kinds of herbs and seeds to add to the dish. He kept them in his leather satchel with the eggs for safekeeping. As he neared the summit of the great mountain he realised that he was missing one vital ingredient in any omelette. Cheese. But where on earth would he find cheese? There hadn't been a single milk-dispensing animal living in the village for over 100 years, which was rather odd considering that both milk and cheese are two of the most commonly used ingredients in many popular dishes.
His questions were answered when he arrived at the summit. It was a sight to behold. The great monolith of bronze inlain with carvings of ancient culinary maestros cooking with only the light from the sun as a source of heat. Abraham was awestruck. The Hob of the Makers. This was where he would cook his feast. With the thought set in his mind, young Abe knelt down in front of the monument and offered his worn handle to the heavens. He waited for what seemed like an age, and was just about to leave disheartened when a golden warmth flowed over his palms. Five minutes passed, and the weight in Abraham's hands increased ever so slightly. The warmth left him, and he gripped the handle in his hands before opening his eyes to observe what wonders the Gods had bestowed upon him.
The pan was beautifully crafted. The handle encased in gold wrapping, the pan head as black as the night, with the consistency of obsidian. It was slightly translucent, and cast a faint and fuzzy shadow on the ground before him. He felt that the slightest impact would shatter the glass-like face of the pan, but upon further inspection, he found that the pan was as solid as diamond. Engraved into the the center of the pan were his initials: "A.G.P"
Act - III
"The Fall of Abraham Pann"
Abraham had been gifted a pan imbued with an epic power, and he would use it to fry the finest omelette that had ever been fried. He named it, the Pan of Justice. Abraham opened his satchel and reached in for his eggs, still concerned about the lack of cheese. But as his hands touched the warm shell of the first egg, he noticed something. He gripped the egg with anticipation, and found it to me much larger than any egg he had ever held in his life. He pulled out the egg and stared at it in puzzlement. The egg was indeed a goliath of it's kind, and he didn't need to be an egg expert to know what that meant. The shell of the egg was mottled with green and yellow and brown and white and cream. It smelled of fresh herbs and, most importantly, cheese. The Gods had not only blessed him with a pan, but they had also gave him an egg crafted from every ingredient in his recipe.
And thus, Abraham grabbed his magical frying pan and cooked the greatest omelette his fresh, young taste buds had ever tasted. However, after finishing his omelette, he became furious for he knew that he would have to clean up his mess. With rage built inside of him, he took his frying pan and ran down the mountain, arriving at his village. He then sprinted down his street, bashing in the skulls of every middle-class citizen he laid eyes on. The younger neighbourhood children caught on and it soon became a community traditional game. Shortly afterwards, Abraham was admitted to the local asylum for being driven insane due to the sheer awesomness of his dish; the Gods had punished him for his hubris. And so it was, The Pann name was lost to history, and Abe's Pan of Justice vanished off the face of the earth.
Act - IV
"The Legacy of the Pan"
Many years had passed since the Great Panning of 1965, but Abraham's game was still going strong. One day, two young cousins and a few friends who had admired the game ever so much decided it was time to finally show their true affection for the frying pan. The cousins were distant descendants of Abraham Pann's long-lost brother, and their names were Angus Pann and Heyzeus Pann. It was then they decided to work together and gathered in the darkened alleyway that once bordered the residence of Abraham Pann himself.
It took a lot of work and dedication, but finally, the greatest shrine known to Pan was created, and thus, the world's largest frying pan was born. Proud of their work, they formed a group, and called themselves the Brothers of the Pan! They agreed that the last few months of hard work had brought them together, and they would never turn their backs on each other. They agreed to never harm each other (unless they were playing their precious frying pan game), and built a jail for those who tried to hurt anyone in any other way, shape or form.
From then on, the brotherhood grew, and still continues to grow to this day. This story continues, but the story is now ours to shape as we see fit.
Welcome to BroPan, home of cast-iron thinking.