I don't know what to do with this.
I got it for Child, because hey, moonpie. Opened it up, and okay, a three decker moonpie was weird (I'm a purist, okay?) but that's also more moonpie so I dealt with it, and then Child looked horrified after a bite. I assumed he was evil (as one does; who looks like that after a moonpie?) then took a bite myself.
For a moment, I suspected I was evil too, but seriously, what the fuck was that? It's a moonpie, not baked Alaska; we are not talking about a complex dish. It is marshmellow stuck between graham crackers and covered in chocolate or other layer of artificial and delicious flavoring. It is like a smore gone corporate. And it tasted like feet had been involved.
The sun has just stopped shining, cats and dogs are lying down together, and my childhood called and disowned me.
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