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Miss Koi prided herself on two things: her perfectly manicured flowers and her culinary pyrotechnics. The flowers were a testament to her orderliness, their vibrant red blooms a splash of color against the crisp white siding of her house. Cooking, however, was where miss Koi truly came alive.

In the kitchen, she wasn't just miss Koi, she was a magician, a culinary sorceress who could conjure up a delicacy as colorful and sparkling to rival a rainbow that houses a diamond and set before the sun.

This weekend was no different. Miss Koi was hosting a get-together for her niece, Nnenna, who was fresh out of college and just landed her first "grown-up" job.

The guest list was a motley crew: Nnenna's bubbly best friend, Nkechi, whose fashion sense rivaled a kaleidoscope thrown at a rainbow, and Patrick, the next-door neighbor, a man whose social skills were inversely proportional to his love for polka-dotted bowties that just hung loosely at his neck as if 'bowing' to whoever he comes across.

Miss Koi spent the morning in a whirlwind of activity. Flour dusted her apron like snow, and the rhythmic clatter of the whisk against the ceramic bowl was a symphony to her ears. Her pièce de résistance, however, was a dessert she'd named "Mount Kilishi".

It was a towering chocolate cake, its peak adorned with a precarious swirl of red icing that resembled a miniaturized volcano. Hidden within the cake, nestled amongst layers of moist chocolate goodness, was a single, fiery red chili pepper; the real piece of surprise.

The guests arrived, a cacophony of laughter and excited chatter. Nkechi, in a dress that resembled a particularly flamboyant sunset, declared miss Koi's house "divinely retro!", Patrick, sporting a bowtie with tiny dancing flamingos, complimented the flowers profusely (much to miss Koi's secret delight as she peeped through the window). Nnenna, the guest of honor, simply beamed with pride at her aunt's efforts.

Dinner was a delightful affair. Miss Koi's roast chicken was a masterpiece of golden brown perfection. Patrick, however, seemed particularly fascinated by the green peas in the rice. He spent an inordinate amount of time arranging them into elaborate patterns on his plate, much to Nkechi's amusement.

Then came dessert. Miss Koi, with a flourish, presented Mount Kilishi. The cake looked so magnificent, a collective gasp arose from the table. Nkechi in her electric attitude fashion, declared it "a culinary masterpiece destined for the Museum of Modern Art!"

Patrick squinted at the red swirl. "Is that…a cherry on top?"

*"Not quite, Patrick," chuckled Miss Koi, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Nnenna impatiently took a generous bite. Her eyes widened. A beat of blissful silence followed, then…

"Miss Koi!" she sputtered, eyes watering. "There's a pepper in here!"

Nkechi burst into laughter. Patrick, bless his polka-dotted soul, choked on his own amusement, sending a spray of crushed peas across the table. Nnenna, red-faced but sporting a reluctant grin, reached for a glass of water.

Miss Koi quickly whipped up a batch of her famous vanilla ice cream, her personal perfect antidote to the fiery surprise. The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, Nnenna regaling them with tales of her new job, Nkechi critiquing Patrick's (admittedly questionable) fashion choices, and Miss Koi refilling cups and sharing stories of her culinary adventures.

As the guests departed, a slightly singed Nnenna hugged Miss Koi tightly. "Thanks, Aunt Millie. That was…memorable."

Miss Koi winked. "Always happy to spice things up, my dear."

The next morning, Patrick, sporting a rather sheepish grin, stood at Miss Koi's doorstep. In his hand was a small, potted plant – a fiery red chili pepper. "For the next Mount Kilishi," he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Miss Koi laughed, a warm, genuine sound. "Perhaps next time, Harold. Perhaps next time."

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