My humans, they are so cruel to me. They know I like the cake, and yet they will not let me have the cake. “If you eat the cake you will be fat,” they say. But I do not care. Every day I beg for the cake. When they are away I take the cake. One day they say “very well, you may have the cake.” And then they bring me the cake.

But it is an evil cake. The cake, it looks just like me and is full of voodoo magic so that when I bite the cake I am biting myself, and if I eat the cake I will be gone. So I cannot eat the cake. You cannot eat the cake. Not even the ears, I need those. I must guard the cake with my life. Forever. I hate the cake. This was a mistake.

“OK, I’m going to hide and make a lot of screaming noises so the dog thinks I’m being turned into cookie batter. You wait a few minutes and then offer him the cookie.”

Welcome new sender-inner Wm A.! (via Reddit)