Imagine, if you will, a layer of purple grape jello, with a scent reminiscent of that artificial sickly sweet Faygo grape smell. Spread a layer of chocolate pudding over the jello, and a nice thick layer of whipped cream over the chocolate. Serve unlabled to unsuspecting customers.
"It belongs in the Monster Manual," Joe says.
It'd also be right at home in the Gallery of Regrettable Food.
It could have been worse. It could have had celery seed in it.
We set aside our purple monstrosities and preserved our hope — we knew we would be having breakfast at Wheaten Manor, afterall. A siren call if ever there was one.
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