Well, the word "holy" DID come to mind...

Ok, sure: this first communion cake is atrocious. (Is the dove molting? And why are there more choking hazards on this - something a child is supposed to eat - than in your average Lego set?)

Still, you have to admire the wreckerator's tenacity in scrawling the inscription right over the plastic flotsam. That, my friends, is commitment! No namby-pamby dashes, squished text, or downward spirals here, no sir! This baker does not deviate, does not falter! S/he trudges onward even in the face of crippling ridicule, turning a deaf ear to nay-sayers, a blind eye to the warning signs of impending disaster, a numb hand to the piping bag, a stuffed-up nose to the smell of burning batter, and an insensate tongue to the bitter dregs of defeat!!

[sits back down]

Ok, so maybe I was reaching a little with that metaphor. I thought I was doing well until the "burning batter" bit, though. [taps teeth with pen] Huh.

Still, I think we can all learn something here. Something about perseverance, something about throwing caution to the wind, something about...oh, I dunno... picking the cake up more than 30 minutes before the party starts? [nodding] Yeah, that, too.

Note: Since I get asked a lot, many of you will no doubt be relieved to learn that Wreckporter Holly later received a full refund. You'll remember that more-than-30-minutes-beforehand thing next time, right, Holly? :)