Watching the fox crunch on the fish, Chip wondered if there was a way to do it a bit better.

"I think that is a wondeful taste, I do have to eat around the bone. Oh what a bother," the fox said.

"Your lordship sire," Chip said.

The fox nodded for him to speak.

"You see me an me uncle we were thinking about selling these more often, do you think other foxes would like em?" Chip leaned in and adjusted his apron.

The fox scratched his chin as he smacked his lips.

"I am not a taste maker, young otter, but... I think you're on to something," he replied.

Chip and his Uncle shared a knowing smile. Uncle Brit stroked his whiskers for a second.

"You know that the winter season is coming up, right?" The fox said, "Because of where the bazaar is located the queen has told us that this year she would love to have a food festival and the top three vendors get the prime spots for the season. I heard that the old blast furnaces are up for grabs, and that Baron Cornflower himself, the minister of the interior is going to be a judge on the panel."

Chips eyes widened. At each of the three corners of the bazaar where the informal entrance was, there were three large furnaces that had been used centuries ago to craft weapons. Now the parts that remained were still maintained by the blacksmithing foxes, but they were used by other vendors who cooked their food on site. Chip knew that the vendors didn't have a monopoly on these and that his Uncles cart was tough to move around but he'd never dreamed.

"Uncle! We have to do it! We have to enter the Barons contest!" Chip said.

"Remember that the Baron is a mouse, and they don't eat fish the way that you or I do," The fox said.

"Yer lorship sire, thank you for that, I'll be in your debt if you could tell your friends thank we are trying out new recipes in the next two months before the festival," Uncle Brit said, "Sire, I'm Brit and this here is me nephew Chip, and we'd be right pleased if you could spread the word."

"I'm Lord Henry Richards, and I'd be tickled pink if you two won. I wish you both luck," Lord Richards said, "Will you be selling these delicious sticks tomorrow?"

"I'll make sure to have some ready when I see you, sire," Uncle Brit said.

The fox nodded to both of them and walked off as a clump of foxes came over right behind him towards their cart.

"We might never get an otter chance like this, chip," Uncle Brit said.

"We're doing the festival?" Chip asked.

"We're doing it, and we're going to win it."