Once upon a balmy summer's eve, our noble lord of the grill, Sir Sizzle-a-Lot, ventured forth, a dozen sun-kissed peaches cradled in his arms. "Forsooth," quoth he, "the grill's fierce heat shall kiss these tender orbs, they lying face down as a blushing maiden to the sun." Amid the jests and japes of a motley company, he gave the peachy congregation a mighty flip, exposing their succulent hearts. "By my troth," cried he, beaming like a proud father, "thou art to be anointed, each one, with the honeyed nectar of the bees and the nutty embrace of cream cheese!" The ensuing mirth and merriment was only surpassed by the delicious sweetness of the grilled fruit, and Sir Sizzle-a-Lot was hailed as the jester of taste, the champion of the grill, his tale whispered evermore amidst the perfume of smoky peaches and the echo of hearty laughter.