SarahPhrase

Yesterday we celebrated Grandpa Duncan's birthday with a coconut cake and a King Cake for Mardi Gras. My cousin's daughter Emily was very excited about the possibility of finding the baby in her cake, but alas, it was not meant to be. I had very little hope of finding it in mine, especially after last year's book club debacle--our King Cake had no baby at all, despite our having ripped it to shreds looking for him. That is typically the kind of luck I have, and for that reason you should never play poker with me. Or rather, why you should. Of course, finding the baby in your cake is kind of a backwards thing, in that you have to buy the cake next year. Between that and the loveliness of this particular baby, my antiluck held out. Behold:

Greetings, Earthlings. I am Mardi Gras Baby, reincarnated Lord Xenu, and I have come to reclaim the wandering Thetan souls from their Earthly prisons and subject them to yet more torture re: endless loops of Tom Cruise movies. I'm sure you thought you were partaking in a harmless annual ritual of debauchery, but haHA, I and my troops have entered your homes via your disgusting confectionaries. Though you cannot see, I am sporting a soul-sucked hole straight through my brain, not unlike you will soon have. Enjoy your cakes, children. BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

And, now, to cleanse your palate from the horror, as if that's possible, some pretty Valentine Tulips from Adam: