Där, mitt i Gustav Adolfs Torg i Malmö, stod två vänner.

There, in the middle of Gustav Adolfs Square in Malmö, stood two friends.

De hette Anders och Erika och bor i Malmö.

Their names were Anders and Erika, and they lived in Malmö.

Deras vardagar fylldes med kaffe, skratt och utflykter i vacker natur.

Their weekdays were filled with coffee, laughter, and excursions in beautiful nature.

Men den här dagen var annorlunda.

But this day was different.

De var på ett uppdrag.

They were on a mission.

Åh, denna mission.

Oh, this mission.

En tungvridare på svenska.

A tongue twister in Swedish.

Man skulle kunna tycka att de borde kunna säga den, men det var inte så enkelt.

One might think they should be able to say it, but it wasn't that simple.

Det var phrase "Sex laxar i en laxask".

It was the phrase "Sex laxar i en laxask".

Låter enkelt, men tro mig, det var det inte.

Sounds easy, but trust me, it wasn't.

Anders försökte först.

Anders tried first.

Han rynkade sin panna.

He furrowed his brow.

Hans mun formade ord.

His mouth formed words.

"Sex laxar i en sexlax".

"Sex laxar i en sexlax".

Han släppte ut ett frustrerat utrop.

He let out a frustrated exclamation.

Erika skrattade åt hans försök.

Erika laughed at his attempt.

"Låt mig pröva", sade hon.

"Let me try," she said.

"Sex laxar i en laksax.

"Sex laxar i en laksax."

" Båda brast ut i skratt.

Both burst into laughter.

Dagen fortsatte, och så gjorde deras försök.

The day continued, and so did their attempts.

De gick längs gågatan, passerade Lilla Torg, och hamnade vid Sankt Petri Kyrka.

They walked along the pedestrian street, passed Lilla Torg, and ended up at St. Peter's Church.

Medan Anders beundrade kyrkans gamla arkitektur, sade Erika det igen.

While Anders admired the church's old architecture, Erika said it again.

"Sex laxar i en lasksax".

"Sex laxar i en lasksax."

Fel igen.

Wrong again.

De skrattade tills de nästan grät.

They laughed until they nearly cried.

Flera timmar passerade.

Several hours passed.

Solen började gå ner och Malmö Centralstationens klocktorn belystes vackert av kvarvarande ljus.

The sun started to go down, and Malmö Central Station's clock tower was beautifully illuminated by the remaining light.

Erika blickade mot klocktornet, tog ett djupt andetag och sa: "Sex laxar i en laxask.

Erika looked towards the clock tower, took a deep breath, and said: "Sex laxar i en laxask."

"Det var rätt!

That was correct!

Anders blinkade och skrattade.

Anders blinked and laughed.

"Bra gjort, Erika!

"Well done, Erika!"

" utbrast han.

he exclaimed.

Erika gjorde en triumferande gest med tomma händer.

Erika made a triumphant gesture with empty hands.

Det fanns ingen laxask, men det spelade ingen roll.

There was no salmon box, but it didn't matter.

Missionen var över.

The mission was over.

Efter denna dag, var allt som vanligt igen.

After this day, everything went back to normal.

Det enda som förändrades var deras minnen.

The only thing that changed was their memories.

Minnen om en galen dag i Malmö centrum, full med vansinniga försök att uttala en svensk tungvridare.

Memories of a crazy day in the center of Malmö, filled with insane attempts to pronounce a Swedish tongue twister.

De båda visste, att de aldrig skulle glömma denna dag.

They both knew they would never forget this day.

De kunde försöka att göra det, men det skulle vara lika svårt som att säga "Sex laxar i en laxask".

They could try to do so, but it would be as difficult as saying "Sex laxar i en laxask."