At one point, this cake expressed happiness. We can be fairly certain that the Ha in the top quadrant once continued to spell out “Happy.”
What happiness it expressed, we’re not sure. An anniversary? An alimony payment? A discovery of actinium?
We’ll never know, because even though only a bit more than half the cake was eaten, that half nearly devoured whatever accomplishment (maybe “accomplishment?”) the cake was commemorating.
It probably wasn’t all that amazing, though, or else the cake would have been better. I mean, the box is lovely, but it’s always a bit awkward when the bottom of the cake separates from the rest of the cake like Alex Ovechkin’s teeth separated from his face. (A bit of an odd sentiment to put on a cake, but we can’t know that it’s not what happened!) If the celebration were for something like an Air Force graduation, the frosting probably wouldn’t look like hastily applied stucco. And the rose—normally the best part of any cake—would have been automatically scarfed down, rather than left to wax over like Abe Vigoda (which, to be fair, it’s not doing a terrible impression of right now.)
(Maybe the cake said “Happy Application of Stucco.” The more I think about it, the more I think I’m right.)
This post may or may not have been handily artificially scribed by Lemony Snicket.