Once upon a time there was a bowl of noodles. The bowl of noodles was as sad as noodles could be, because it was very plain. Two giants (at least, giants by a noodle's standard) came and decided to lift the noodles out of their sad, plain existence. The two giants promised to transform the noodles into richly dressed sesame noodles. However, the giants could not agree upon how the sauce should be made. The mountains vibrated with their ongoing discourse, the noodles jiggled with the vibration. Eventually the two giants, who were sisters, agreed that each should make her own version of the dish and that they would compare afterwards to decide whose version was better. Each set to work, collecting a little bit of this and a little bit of that (and some of that other thing). They mixed their sauces. They ran out to the garden to get a little more of this herb or that. And then, each had her own bowl of fragrant, glistening noodles. They each tried some of their own bowl, then some of the other's. In the other's version, each found it lacking in some flavor, but also containing some note their own had missed. Eventually, they gave up and mixed the two separately-conceived versions together. There was a flash of opalescent aquamarine light and a sound of chimes and squishy noodle-mixing. Both found this combined version to be greater than the sum of its parts.
And so was born the Extra Happy Theory.
The Extra Happy Theory: We balance each other pretty well. In fact, whatever we make, chances are it'll be better if you mix our two ideas together, before or after it's made.