"First there were tribes in the fields, and then rose grain as bright as the sun. Men and women made all kinds, shapes colors and tastes of bread. Then a young kid carrying a cast iron pot spilled a sauce on a loaf. He took it and walked back to the bright field, sat under a fig tree and took the first bite. Since then, it was never bread alone, nor the tops of the single tribe. He would travel to the edges of the earth in search of sauces and breads, but he always went back to eat under the blue fig tree.
when asked about what he was eating, he always answered while folding tiny bits...FIGZZAZ
So FIGZZAZ it will be at Blue Fig."
