Luckily, it's frosting.
Plus, a new story from Uncle Clown's Toothless Tales:
The Towers of Bologna
There was a baboon who lived in Italy on a very nice chair. He sat in his chair all day long, picking nits out of his fur and keeping an eye on his neighbors. Needless to say, his chair was rather grimy, even smelly.
One day a bunch of workmen built a bologna factory right next to his chair. They didn’t ask him or anything. “Rude!” said the baboon, but the workmen kept right on going because they had to have immense bologna ready by mid-October.
When the first slices of bologna came out, the baboon requested a sample. The Foreman said he would look into it, but in fact he never did. Big trucks started hauling bologna out to the hungry Italians, honking their horns at the baboon, who was writing a letter to his mother. (WTF, Ma? Love, Randy) When his birthday came, a package arrived for him, from his mom. She’d sent him a lasso and a book about big trucks.
He practiced with the lasso for a long time, until his lasso skills were unearthly. He could lasso a praying mantis off a dandelion. He could lasso a low-flying goose. He could even lasso two human heads and conk them together. He knew he was ready.
When mid-October came, so much bologna was done that it was stacked in towers around the factory. All the trucks were loaded and still there were stacks of delicious bologna 50 feet tall steaming in the sun. Just when he was about to lasso one of the bologna towers, he overheard the Foreman yelling for more ingredients.
“Gross!” said the baboon when he heard what the bologna was made of. He decided bologna was not what he wanted after all, so he lassoed his chair and dragged it down to the apple orchard, where he could sit in the shade and lasso apples for every meal.