When I got up in the morning I was pretty excited. The birthday party fairy came overnight and left me everything I needed for my own extra party. Then, I find out it's somebody else's birthday, not mine. Then, to add in spit to bakery, birthday boy bit the big one, cake that is.
It's unfortunate the presents and singing weren't for me, even worse that he got to blow out the candles (as seen below). I know it's tradition for the birthday guest to get the first taste of the cake, but come on man, at least wait until we slice you off your own slab.
I'll eat pastrami off the carpet, snack on Cheez-Its of highly questionable age, or drink from a random bottle I find laying about half empty and long forgotten but do I really want to eat spittle-cake? Overspray from blowing out candles is within acceptable limits but a full-on chocolate gobble is a bit much even for me.
Ultimately I did not eat the cake. Instead, I waited until I forgot about it and saw an eerily similar cake to the one spat-all-about. The colors and everything were the same but this one had been cut to pieces. Deducing it couldn't possibly be the same cake (especially lacking a wet, glossy sheen) and gladly helped myself to a messy plateload of it. This cake was much better for me, not so questionable.
Brother Patrick's behavior sure takes the cake alright, and as far as I'm concerned, he can keep it. This other, remarkably identical cake, however, this one's just fine.
Brother seen here extinguishing the "for-it's" [Huh?] fire while cake-dusting with an anti-sharing formula known as "saliva."
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