HOLY CRAP DUDES. I'm about to reverse-BIG myself back to being six years old and suddenly a British boy to get at this cake. That's got to be easier than baking, right?
This is what I imagine is swimming around in my guts after a drunk pasta and canned meat binge. Not pretty.
Any Iron Maiden fan worth their salt will join me in suspicion that Eddie's brains look so fresh and vital. That can't be right.
Suddenly I want a giant bowl of fruit and a beard.
But how do you kick back up to the next orange level? A juicer?
I always knew baked goods had a touch of the emo.
What is this crap? You left spaces on top not covered in bacon? I want my money back.