Pita knew that his offer would not be refused — since everyone knows that the Baba Ghanoush loves music. And so Pita began to play upon his baklava.
And it was a sweet pastry of music indeed, composed of layers upon layers of delicate melody, sweetened and held together by notes of pure honey. For nobody could play the baklava like young Pita.
Eventually his listener, lulled by the magic of his playing, fell into a deep reverie, and began to doze off. And that is when the young man saw his chance. For he knew that this was not the true Baba Ghanoush, but the Foul Mudammas in disguise.
Taking out his trusty shish kebab, Pita plunged the sharp blade into the stomach of the sleeping monster. And lo and behold, fatoosh! out came Hummus, alive and well, if somewhat the worse for wear.
Once they were sure that the monster was well and truly dead, together they traveled back to the cottage, where their Dolma wept with joy to see them. She was glad to find that they had brought with them the coin purse of the treacherous Foul Mudammas, which indeed contained a fortune.
“Ah my sons,” their Dolma said proudly, “I knew you would come back to me, and that you would turn our tzatziki into a fortune. But tell me Hummus, how did it feel, to be trapped inside the belly of such a foul monster?”
Hummus looked at his Dolma, and he looked at Pita. Then he shrugged. “To tell you the truth, it falafel.”