03-19-2016, 09:09 AM
A basket of baguettes wave in the breeze, then writhe and twist like snakes.
A cake wishes you a happy birthday! How nice! You thank it, but tell it it isn't your birthday yet, and your name isn't Janet. The cake seems embarrassed. "Are you sure?" it asks you. You aren't sure.
A loaf of french bread leans over and whispers something in your ear. Something mind-blowingly significant, yet inexpressible in human language.
Down the aisle you see an interesting-looking display of muffins, but you would have to climb the floor to get there.
In the corner of the bakery, there's a pink neon sign that says "Enjoin" in curly script. Your skin writhes and itches when the pink light touches it.
It suddenly occurs to you that a "baker's dozen" is thirteen. The implications are staggering.
Okay, but... what did they do with the rest of the bear?
On a nearby tray, a cluster of donut holes shudder and begin to crack. You realize: donut holes. But holes to where? The creatures inside scream as you throw them on the ground and crush them underfoot before they can hatch.
You glimpse a shadowy figure out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look, it dives behind the coffee urn and escapes.
You surreptitiously sneak a taste of icing from the edge of a cake, and gasp. This is the Ur-icing! How did they get this?
You take a deep breath and try to act perfectly normal, so that the people with loaves of bread for heads don't realize anything's wrong. You smile and nod at them in a perfectly normal way. They ignore you.
A cake wishes you a happy birthday! How nice! You thank it, but tell it it isn't your birthday yet, and your name isn't Janet. The cake seems embarrassed. "Are you sure?" it asks you. You aren't sure.
A loaf of french bread leans over and whispers something in your ear. Something mind-blowingly significant, yet inexpressible in human language.
Down the aisle you see an interesting-looking display of muffins, but you would have to climb the floor to get there.
In the corner of the bakery, there's a pink neon sign that says "Enjoin" in curly script. Your skin writhes and itches when the pink light touches it.
It suddenly occurs to you that a "baker's dozen" is thirteen. The implications are staggering.
Okay, but... what did they do with the rest of the bear?
On a nearby tray, a cluster of donut holes shudder and begin to crack. You realize: donut holes. But holes to where? The creatures inside scream as you throw them on the ground and crush them underfoot before they can hatch.
You glimpse a shadowy figure out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look, it dives behind the coffee urn and escapes.
You surreptitiously sneak a taste of icing from the edge of a cake, and gasp. This is the Ur-icing! How did they get this?
You take a deep breath and try to act perfectly normal, so that the people with loaves of bread for heads don't realize anything's wrong. You smile and nod at them in a perfectly normal way. They ignore you.
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