Atlantis, We Have a Problem

When celebrating ten years with the space program, remember:

One wrecker's space shuttle is another's castle.

With a giant dong on it.

Thanks to Rochelle W. for reminding us that women in space have come a long way.

They're Gonna Need 'Em

Ask where the second "e" went all you want; *I* want to know what's in that icing. [shudder]

Sorry, Ash, you only get one.

Aw, this is my fav "favewell" cake ever. It's the bes!

I'm a little unclear on the message here. Is it:

"Best wishes! Here's a pile of crap! With plastic! And curly ribbon!"

Yes? No? Am I close?

Ok, so in the Ghostbusters video game (oh, c'mon, you knew I was a nerd) there's this cursed clock that claims to show the exact time of death for anyone who looks at it. Creepy, right?

Well, guess what came to mind when I saw this cake?

You think this Wreckerator knows something about Beck Y's future - say, around 10 PM - that we don't? I mean, she filled in everything else from "play with gran kids" to "gardaning," so that lone blank spot is looking pretty dang ominous, if you ask me.

In fact, maybe the baker should just get right to the point:

Or:

Buuuuuh...

Buhbye.

Thanks to W.C., Ashley B., April C., Ginny B., Heather J., Betsy U., & Jennifer H. for all the fell wishes.