And behold! A prophet in our time!
For tho the chosen slice was saved, it was desecrated by the fork of an unknown villain. It sat upon the scared plate, a bite taken, sullying it beauty.
And so it was written. so it came to pass. For cousin Ran, no cake was had. Mine heart weeps for the loss, shant it ever be whole again?
Whatever shall I... wait you brought frosted sugar cookies? COOKIE! OM NOM NOM NOM!
Thanks, my low blood sugar turned me into a bard of yore for a moment.
I'm sure it was the cake deprivation despair and the excess glucose that caused you to wax poetic, but I don't care, it was awesome! Perhaps Thursday I will craft some fritters as an offering to the cake yore bard....