I take the cake out to the grocery store parking lot, remove the lid, and start punching it.
Frosting splatters all over the ground and my clothes as my fists pummel the cake into a mushy pulp.
Then, I lick my fists and go back into the grocery store.
“I’d like another cake,” I say.
“You’ve bought four today,” says the manager. “And you’re covered with cake. What are you doing with them?”
“Punching them,” I say. “It’s cathartic.”
The manager looks around, sees his employees goofing off, and picks up 2 cakes.
“Mind if I join you?” he says.