The Cake Cannibals

Once upon a time, a baker decided to ice a giant baby butt on a cake.

And so she did.

The rest of the bakers gathered round to congratulate her, and before long they'd all agreed: baby butts were surprisingly appetizing. Reeling from this rear realization, the bakers went on to change the face of baby shower cakes forever.

By turning it into a baby butt.

The cake butt phenomenon took off like projectile vomit from a colicky infant. It was everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Otherwise rational women dreamed of eating chocolate-filled diapers. Grandmothers sliced up legs with abandon. Little children screamed in glee at the sight of adorably draped half bodies served up on platters. ("Aw, look, she's sobbing with glee!")

After a while, the original bakers got together again to munch on fondant toes and discuss their next "big thing." The vote was unanimous: they needed much larger bodies of work.

Literally.

"If eating baby butt is sweet, then eating mom boobs will be AMAZING," the bakers exclaimed.

And so, they did.

Just about everyone loved the mom boob & belly combo, but there were a few complaints from the moms-to-be. Not that their cake effigies were being eaten, of course, but that their cake effigies weren't sexy enough.

Quickly the bakers arrived at a solution: the cantaloupes would be made much larger than the watermelon ("if you catch our drift"), and mom's cakey doppelgänger would be dressed in only the raciest of lingerie, the better to emphasize how she ended up in her present glowing condition.

And so it was.

And, once again, everyone was happy.

At this point the bakers fell into a deep depression. "We've done it all!" they moaned. "What more can we possibly achieve now that women are eating both baby butts *and* mom torsos?"

Which is when they realized: the only thing better than eating a mom torso or baby toes was eating them both together.

Quickly a new decree went out: push that lingerie aside! It's time to show off the baby inside the belly. And then EAT THEM BOTH. Haha!

Remember to keep that melon ratio, though.

At last, the bakers felt they had arrived at the pinnacle of baby shower cakedom. They would continue to fine-tune, of course: a cherry filling here, a plastic baby fished out with tongs there - but overall, their cannibalistic urges were sated. And all was well.

Until they discovered gelatin.

[ear-splitting scream]

[of glee]

Thanks to Jessica M., Candace G., Jessica T., Germaine, Jessica G., Sarah M., Taylor F., & Ruth T., who think that's one heckuva womb with a view.

*****

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A Minor Oversight

Your first mistake, my dear Wreckies, was in being so positive and supportive of yesterday's post that some of you even asked to see some of the posts John *won't* let me publish.

So again, in my defense: you asked for it. 

Here's one that's been languishing in my drafts folder for nearly a year, and it still makes me snort-giggle - but I can guarantee there is NO WAY you all will find it as amusing as I do. You just won't. Trust me. You'll think it's cute and adorable and I'm a terrible person for laughing.

Or you'll laugh, too, and then we can nod knowingly at each other from across crowded rooms, as if to say, "Yeah, I'm a terrible person, too. S'all good."

A Minor Oversight:

Sadly, God neglected to add air holes.

Thanks to Anony M., the first newly inducted member of the Terrible Person Club.

*****

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