Flaming Pile Of Success

“Nobody has to eat these,” I said as I laid a platter of strange-looking mess on the table. “They were supposed to be pumpkin fritters, but it didn’t work.”

I served myself a bunch, though, because I hate to throw away food.  Then I started mumbling over them.

“Oh gar, i’ so good.”

“Auf. It’s like IHOP hashbrowns.”

“TRY THEM.”

Because I’m bashful and modest like that.

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