And lo, the Great Chef sent forth his one and only begotten son...to the fall that?

all who shall adopt his pastries shall not die, but have everlasting flakey crust, next to light, glory creme filling.

Answer:
Oh, man...
Now I'm hungry again.

Meet me a Marie Callendar's for a slice?
sounds like the pies on the three stooges--better examine out for his wrath, nyuk, nyuk, nyuk
I'm getting hungry.

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