THE CRUMB GOLEMS OF THE FLAVOR DIMENSION

The flavor dimension is the little subsection of hell where the horrors of gluttony intermingle with the sins of pride and vanity. This is what the Church says, but it may just be demons who like to cook.

It is certainly more about pride than gluttony, at the very least.

It is the art of cooking turned pure obsession, flavor, presentation, service, all taken and perverted by the Things In The Dark. You will never summon a demon from this dimension with just a large and wasteful amount of bland food. You must make art. The human version of foie gras? A start.
The creature who looks back in your summoning pot? You WILL call him chef. And you will learn. You will scour the earth for ingredients, form a sous-cult with those who follow you.
Your cheese will weep tears of maggots. Your drinks will squirm and crawl in the gut.
Your meals will almost always be poisoned, as the guests who have died in the ecstasy of one dinner will become the cooking-stock for the next.
You will get used to the smell of durians.

I've had an idea for a Chef-cultist class, something like a Rogue/Cleric hybrid where they get their version of a sneak attack after using spells and items to "season" the enemy. It goes something like this:

Hit die: d8,
Weapon/Armor Proficiencies as Rogue plus special culinary tools (can add "Seasoning" effect)
Skills as Cleric, replace religious knowledge with culinary knowledge.
Level 1: Fillet: 1d4 damage for each instance of Seasoning applied to the foe. Spells as Cleric level 1.
 Spell "Flavor imbue": a cook a meal with at least an hour prep time, and anyone who eats even a bit of it counts as one instance of Seasoned
Level 2: spells as  Cleric level 2
Level 3: Fillet 1d6 per seasoning stack
Level 4: Spells as Cleric level 3
Level 5: Fillet 1d8, and something else special.

I like that, just need to add extra spells and fluff. Here are some ideas:

Fried Golems:
Made from when the sizzling fat that gets scraped away from the pan and collected. Always cooking and spraying burning juices. Always screaming, if they are given a mouth.
3 HD, 10 STR 12 CON
Sizzle: Whenever the Fried Golem is struck with a blunt weapon, it sprays its juices in a 10ft area around itself, reflex or take 1d6 fire damage. They can activate this ability themselves by spending a turn to wring themselves out.

Crumb Golems
Bread-y scraps of dough, flour, and crust formed together. Stronger and more reliable than the Fried Golems. Vulnerable to pigeons.
Small 3 HD, 1d6 Slam, Large 5 HD, Colossal 10 HD 1d12 Slam
Doughy: immune to piercing weapons. When hit with more than 1/3rd HD of fire damage, burns and inflates to uselessness.

Wicked Meat Injector:

Like this but designed for melee combat

Damage and stats as a rapier,  Strength check to discharge its contents into a struck foe, dealing 1d4 CON damage. If appropriate ingredients are injected, will count as a Seasoning stack. Secondary injections deal no CON damage but allow for more Seasoning stacks, if the injected ingredients are different.
 It may do more damage/have other effects depending on what you fill the injector with. Failing the strength check discharges the contents with no effect. Must be reloaded after each injection, taking a full round action.
Seasoned livers from poisoned victims: add a fort save for poisons used.
Mutagen blood pudding: roll on your favorite mutation table. (I will make one eventually)
Boiled Razor Urchins: 1d4 Bleed effect.
Salt: That's pretty fucked, I'd say like a flat -2 to rolls due to the pain.
Perhaps an arrow/bolt version that only deals 1 CON damage on a failed save, but still adds the "seasoned" effect?

Psychic Boil Aura
Level 3 enchantment. Duration: Permanent  Range: 30ft radius. Causes the brain to cook in the head by use of psychic damage, causing wisdom damage for all those not chosen for protection by the caster. Deals 1d4 damage every hour, and must be centered on a foci dedicated to the Flavor Dimension. Brains of those who die from such an effect are, naturally, quiet a delicacy.

Nine Useless Spells

A wizard is at his best when he is most prepared. But preparation takes work, and who's gonna sit down and prepare a bunch of fireball spells on the way to the grocery store?
Here's a list of mundane and combat-ineffective spells I made. Replace a few of these on a wizard's spell list when the party catches them off guard. Also good to slip these in found spell-books for a few laughs.

Level 1 Spells/Cantrip-ish spells

Erazma's Efficient Bed-making
Makes a bed so nice you could bounce a silver piece off of it. In combat: pretty useless, but in rooms covered in sheets and pillows it can act as Entangle. Perfect for when the prostitute turns out to be an assassin.

Mersault's Salivating Seasoning
Enchantment. Makes bad things taste better. Impress guests.  Helps you quaff the shitty tasting potion.

Attentiveness 
Enchantment, Self or Ally. 6 hours. Prevents drowsiness and keeps the mind focused. Good for long study sessions as well as long meetings. Useful in the field for remembering parts of dungeons, or that important persons name. Couple with the gracefulness spell below for Wizards who dump charisma.

Illusory Clothing
Always walk around naked.  You're a wizard. You don't need to wear clothes! Can turn into a perfect replica of any outfit that you know fairly well. Great for disguises and such. Realize in horror that the supermarket has an anti-illusion field and that you can never return there.

Percy's Protection from Rain
Like an umbrella, but instead a haughty abuse of the mystical powers. In combat: there are plenty of things that work just like rain but are far more lethal.

Brett's Bubble Bath 
Relax in any body of water with a rejuvenating and magically infused soap/bath salt enchantment. In a water environment can act as a bubbly Fog Cloud with a reflex save to get soap in their eyes, blinding them until they can wash it out.

Level 2-3 Spells

Dust Barrier
Enchantment. self or area, Pushes dust out of a fixed domicile, making housekeeping problems into grounds-keeping problems. Lasts for a week. In combat: could be a fast way to defend against assholes who throw sand. Can be used to clean out sections of a dungeon if you're worried about fires and sneezing.

Gracefulness
Enchantment, self or ally. Calms the nerves and works to prevent tripping and other cases of spaghetti spilling. +2 Bonus to diplomacy check to not make a fool of yourself. In combat: would give +4 bonus when dealing with difficult terrains or slippery shit. How many important wizards use this spell daily? More than you'd think.

Bug Zapper
Enchantment. Self or ally. 1d4 Electric damage to any small creatures that come in contact with you like the modern invention. Won't hurt anything  larger than a humming bird. Good for fending off malaria, great for giving you immunity to insect swarms.

These are dumb and probably covered by better spells in whatever game you're playing. But I like to use stuff like this to remind the everyone that the arch-lich hates spiders just as much as everyone else.

Wrath in Silence

Spiteful Mockingweed

In case you haven't seen evil tumbleweed before.

They say when a songbird becomes too jealous of its own sibling's voices, it will murder them right in their nest. This bloodied home of feathers, bone, and twigs will become a Spiteful Mockingweed. 

It's a dark, brackish, and dried up ball of sponge-like pores and spider-like hairs. It looks sort of like a large and evil tumbleweed, and it mostly acts just like one. But there is purpose in its  journey. It is constantly breathing and exhaling, separating these jobs between each half of its pours. This allows it to both make noise and to propel itself in a poor form of levitation. It drifts lazily through its home forest in large, sweeping circles.

It is trying to murder all those who would match its song.

 It is always singing.
The song is not heard until it attacks. It is a whisper of The Spiteful Mockingweed's surroundings reflected back hatefully. Any living creature that is near the Mockingweed and makes a noise gets that noise repeated back in its own ears almost instantaneously. This is a difficult thing for the average brain to process. The Mockingweed prevents most speech and gives a feeling of disorientation and anxiety.
After confusing the "offenders", it murders them by turning up its volume to intense decibels directly into the ear.  It targets one victim at a time, as any other creatures can only stumble around unable to even scream for help. Most animals flee this unnatural hate-bush if they can, but birds cannot time their wing movements well with the sound distorted. Mammals run in circles as one of their senses betray their instincts, every footstep sounding like the wrong direction. The would kill whole forests worth of life, but it is only driven by a vague wrath , moving slowly and only attacking out of opportunity, never perusing very far.
For defense, it can rapidly exhale to dodge attacks, with startling bursts of speed. Also the "body" of the creature is rather irritating when it comes into contact with skin.

Stats:
Hit Dice 3 AC 16
Str  4 Dex 18 Con 8
Size: Small or Medium (+1 HD)
Movement: Drifts lazily at 10'
Silent Scream: Like a jet engine sneaking up on you and blaring in your ear. 1d6+4  sonic damage.  Fort save to be deafened for 1d4+1 rounds. (This deafening doesn't block out the song, but all other noise)
Hateful Feedback Song:  The Spiteful Mockingweed's song plays constantly in an 100ft circle centered around itself. Any creature that has functioning eardrums or ears not completely sealed off from the environment are effected.  Effected creatures cannot speak normally, their words come out as stutter-y gibberish. Any spells with verbal components cannot be cast. 20% chance of a random spell that the caster knows being fired off instead should the poor sod be unaware of the song. Also, Will save or be Confused for as long as they are in the radius of the song. Creatures who save cannot be effected again for 24 hours. Should a creature who suffers from having a stutter enter the zone of the song for the first time, they are unaffected and instead are permanently cured of their speech disorder.
Itchy Fur-Brambles: The Spiteful Mockingweed is made up of a stiff, hairy, nest-like exterior. Melee attacks on the creature risk being covered in dried hairs like an itching powder, and must make a fortitude save or suffer -2 to all rolls until they can wash it off. This dry body also makes the Mockingweed vulnerable to fire attacks, such attacks doing double damage as it immolates like dry timber.

Treasure: Gems, coins, and other shiny trinkets that collect as it rolls and floats about, as well as left-over from when it was a nest. 70% chance assortment of 2d20 worn silver coins, 20% chance uncut garnet or sapphire, 10% chance random, small magical trinket, from your favorite table of such. (I promise to make one eventually)
The body could also be made as a effective itching powder, fort save 15 or as the Mockingweed's Bramble effect.

Dusty Blowgun
If the remains are well intact, the branches could be made into an weapon of sorts, firing sonic attacks as normal arrow (1d6). Dex to aim, doesn't require ammo but is much louder than a solid projectile. Deafens on a natural 20. 50ft range.

The Mockingweed is more of a hazard than a true monster, but is a mean surprise in a random encounter. It is not always alone, however. Despite its contempt, it can (albeit unknowingly) play well with others. It is a favorite weapon of certain Inquisitors of the Burning Dove, who dumb and deafen themselves to hunt blasphemer-mages and avoid blasphemy themselves. They keep them in big baskets on their back when they hunt in isolated areas.

The Silent Kelphit, cursed sprites of the forest who are completely soundless, they follow Spiteful Mockingbirds as they drift along, feasting on their victims, setting traps and even aiding the creature in its indiscriminate hunt.

Silent Kelphit
HD: 1
Size: Tiny
Str 8 Dex 18 Int 14
Movement: Flies, 60'
Tiny Bows and Arrows: 1d4 Damage
Curse of Quiet As long as a Silent Kelphit remains focused on an individual and can see them, that creature is effected by a curse of total quiet. They can only hear the gurgles and squelches of their own organs and, of course, anything that happens to be whispering directly in their ear.
When a creature is effected by the Curse of Quiet they fail all saves against the Spiteful Mockingweed's song or sonic attack.