Bankrupting The Tooth Fairy

If you don't like chocolate cake please raise your hand. Ok would someone please toss out that doos at the back. Come on, everybody loves chocolate cake. A heavy handed slice of pure unadulterated deliciousness to make your knees go weak with every nibble, laden with enough calories to make Dakota Fanning look like a pretzel, and oozing with seven different kinds of wicked. So widely adored is this wonderful creation and yet sadly, so often frowned upon and guiltily avoided. But then I suppose rules and diets are always made to be broken, so it is only natural that one day, when you've been on celery sticks and rice cakes for a looooong time and you've walked past the bakery a thousand times but haven't dared go in, there comes a time when you catch sight of the ultimate Cake Of The Day. The cake of all cakes. Death By Chocolate. Tiered. Solid. Yummy. Standing in the window. You get giddy from the smells wafting on the breeze and you start to salivate. In a relatively attractive way of course. Not drool all down your front like i did on the plane last night only to wake up when the guy in front of me (seat 74K, you know who you are sir) let his bowels go in a most disturbingly thunderous manner, to discover i looked like a spring break wet t-shirt contestant, minus, of course, the heady blend of silicone and peroxide. No, i repeat, attractively.
All of a sudden your 'f*ck it' switch trips, you fly through that bakery door, stumble over the sofa... uh, step... and throw yourself headlong into the gateau, fervently gorging yourself silly, caution, amongst other things, thrown to the wind. And when it ends with a happy sigh your eyes glaze over, your knees give way and you think to yourself, by god if that wasn't the most incredible chocolate cake i've ever tasted...

Godammit, i'm hungry again.