Applewood
Oak wood
Air accord
Chizza
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Chizza
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24
The Journey Through the Crazy Enchanted Forest
Somewhere in the fairy tale forest of Parfumo: a wicked sorcerer lived here, and the entire land of perfume suffered under his tyranny. He was always scheming and doing worse things; the inhabitants lived in fear and terror, Vracache was his name. Everyone trembled at the mention of his name, not only because no one knew how to pronounce it. In any case, he kidnapped the king's daughter, and all that was left for the king was to confront the villain. However, that did not go well. Myriads of men attempted to storm Vracache's fortress, but his commander, who had just returned from Laos, ensured the royal troops faced defeat. In the king's desperate situation, a brave young man (me, a bit younger, more hair on my head, and so on ;)) stepped forward and told the king that he would defeat the prince of darkness all by himself. The national mascot of Parfumoland had appeared to him in a dream: a chicken. And it said: “Gagaack, gagaack!” Which meant: “You will do it, as surely as I am called a chicken! And take Bois Fou with you, great scent, you must wear it on your quest!” “All right, Polly!”
Before he set off, he gathered his closest circle around him. Oh, before I forget: for the king, the chicken vision was completely credible. Logical.
His first companion was the master of the forest, the faun Floyd, who could sniff out root after root, mushroom after mushroom, leaf after leaf with pinpoint accuracy. One had to be careful that he didn’t inhale whole clumps of earth in his passion for the scents of the forest, but otherwise, he was easy to get along with.
Then he took the water nymph Mariella with him. It was unclear whether the group would even see water, but since Mariella could always impress with her extravagant stories and her legendary Aventus batch collection, she was included.
Additionally, our hero brought along a magical flower that he encountered while picking flowers: “Oh, a beautiful chamomile! Oh, ruined. Oh, another one!” “We are lemon balms, you fool, you killed my sister!” “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, I didn’t like her anyway. I’m Lemon Balm 2, and you?” “I’m here in the role of the hero. Come on, we need to start talking about the scent.” “Yes, I can already feel the eye-rolling.” “Yes, me too. Let’s do it this way: we’ll formulate a hurdle around each note until we reach the goal, and then we’ll have it.” “Good idea, but who plays the princess now? You’ve already used Polly and the mermaid.” “Yes, that was a bit hasty, true. We could allow ourselves a gag and make it Pinseltown.” “Sounds great, Princess P., but now finally to the scent!”
So they marched to Bois Fou, the crazy forest. First, they encountered a phalanx of apple trees that smelled sweetly woody, very intense, almost like blossoms. When these trees saw the crew, they threw apple rings at our heroes and sprayed the men, fauns, flowers, and nymphs with Boss Bottled. Our faun Floyd recoiled hissing, but no problem. After about half an hour, the intense applewood scent faded; the little flower had taken out all the trees with her chainsaw, and now she was only called the Massacre Lemon Balm. 2. “No problem, this Salva!” our hero shouted. “That’s Silva, you idiot!” the companions noted in unison.
This angered Vracache, and so he sent enchanted men disguised as pomegranate trees. This was immediately noticeable, as it now smelled a bit more bitter yet sweet at the same time. It became warm, and these contrasts became olfactorily tangible. The scent of Bois Fou grew denser, becoming progressively woodier, so Bois Fou kept getting better. For this reason, the battle raged on forever, and Vracache posed a riddle, all or nothing, to celebrate a victory or let the heroes overcome a hurdle. He asked: “Who am I? I am Parfumo-verifier and yet I am not. Solve this riddle!”
While they guessed: Wool, DrGourmand, Wool’s alter ego Frau Holle, the man with the name of a Japanese anime, etc., the faun Floyd had an idea: “I know it! It is: SimplyMe, that’s me and yet I am not!”
Suddenly, the pomegranate trees enveloped themselves in dense fog and disappeared. Only air remained. Well, the air accord. Whatever that is supposed to be. I mean, we breathe, we had air before, I don’t know.
In the clearing, there now stood an oak barrel. The way it smelled, many apples must have fermented in it, made into schnapps, and aged. Indeed, a very nice scent; no doubt, Vracache knew how to scent himself. But that was no wonder since he was in league with the horned one with the three-digit number. How? No, I mean 777, Can777 in a reindeer costume....
I don’t want to ramble on; the scent lingered for hours like this, Princess P. stayed with the terrible Vracache due to his Bond collection, Mariella the nymph was completely useless in the water barrel, our hero was already back on a treasure hunt for new leather scents, the faun Floyd had accidentally severed his median nerve with his Ottoman scimitar, and the chicken, out of sheer hunger, kidnapped the uprooted lemon balm, and so they parted ways.
Bois Fou is a perfume of a different kind as it contains very fruity wood and reminds one of spirits with the addition of fruit. Really good but probably not for a whole bottle, one has to be in the mood for it.
Before he set off, he gathered his closest circle around him. Oh, before I forget: for the king, the chicken vision was completely credible. Logical.
His first companion was the master of the forest, the faun Floyd, who could sniff out root after root, mushroom after mushroom, leaf after leaf with pinpoint accuracy. One had to be careful that he didn’t inhale whole clumps of earth in his passion for the scents of the forest, but otherwise, he was easy to get along with.
Then he took the water nymph Mariella with him. It was unclear whether the group would even see water, but since Mariella could always impress with her extravagant stories and her legendary Aventus batch collection, she was included.
Additionally, our hero brought along a magical flower that he encountered while picking flowers: “Oh, a beautiful chamomile! Oh, ruined. Oh, another one!” “We are lemon balms, you fool, you killed my sister!” “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, I didn’t like her anyway. I’m Lemon Balm 2, and you?” “I’m here in the role of the hero. Come on, we need to start talking about the scent.” “Yes, I can already feel the eye-rolling.” “Yes, me too. Let’s do it this way: we’ll formulate a hurdle around each note until we reach the goal, and then we’ll have it.” “Good idea, but who plays the princess now? You’ve already used Polly and the mermaid.” “Yes, that was a bit hasty, true. We could allow ourselves a gag and make it Pinseltown.” “Sounds great, Princess P., but now finally to the scent!”
So they marched to Bois Fou, the crazy forest. First, they encountered a phalanx of apple trees that smelled sweetly woody, very intense, almost like blossoms. When these trees saw the crew, they threw apple rings at our heroes and sprayed the men, fauns, flowers, and nymphs with Boss Bottled. Our faun Floyd recoiled hissing, but no problem. After about half an hour, the intense applewood scent faded; the little flower had taken out all the trees with her chainsaw, and now she was only called the Massacre Lemon Balm. 2. “No problem, this Salva!” our hero shouted. “That’s Silva, you idiot!” the companions noted in unison.
This angered Vracache, and so he sent enchanted men disguised as pomegranate trees. This was immediately noticeable, as it now smelled a bit more bitter yet sweet at the same time. It became warm, and these contrasts became olfactorily tangible. The scent of Bois Fou grew denser, becoming progressively woodier, so Bois Fou kept getting better. For this reason, the battle raged on forever, and Vracache posed a riddle, all or nothing, to celebrate a victory or let the heroes overcome a hurdle. He asked: “Who am I? I am Parfumo-verifier and yet I am not. Solve this riddle!”
While they guessed: Wool, DrGourmand, Wool’s alter ego Frau Holle, the man with the name of a Japanese anime, etc., the faun Floyd had an idea: “I know it! It is: SimplyMe, that’s me and yet I am not!”
Suddenly, the pomegranate trees enveloped themselves in dense fog and disappeared. Only air remained. Well, the air accord. Whatever that is supposed to be. I mean, we breathe, we had air before, I don’t know.
In the clearing, there now stood an oak barrel. The way it smelled, many apples must have fermented in it, made into schnapps, and aged. Indeed, a very nice scent; no doubt, Vracache knew how to scent himself. But that was no wonder since he was in league with the horned one with the three-digit number. How? No, I mean 777, Can777 in a reindeer costume....
I don’t want to ramble on; the scent lingered for hours like this, Princess P. stayed with the terrible Vracache due to his Bond collection, Mariella the nymph was completely useless in the water barrel, our hero was already back on a treasure hunt for new leather scents, the faun Floyd had accidentally severed his median nerve with his Ottoman scimitar, and the chicken, out of sheer hunger, kidnapped the uprooted lemon balm, and so they parted ways.
Bois Fou is a perfume of a different kind as it contains very fruity wood and reminds one of spirits with the addition of fruit. Really good but probably not for a whole bottle, one has to be in the mood for it.
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