“His father is out cutting wood, so he goes to his mother.'Mother, I must away and see the world, or I shall go mad.'Says his mother, 'If you must go, go you must, and God go with you! I will bake you a cake. Will you have a little cake with my blessing, or a big cake with my cursing?'Says Jack, 'Make me a big cake, mother. It will last longer.'His mother makes him a big cake, and he sets out. And she is standing on the roof of the house, calling curses after him as far as she can see him.”

“I'm a guy who likes cake. I'm just throwing it out to you guys, I eat lots of cake. And when people take my cake away, it makes me mad. It makes me mad!”

“Uriah drops his tray next to me. It is loaded with beef stew and chocolate cake. I stare at the cake pile.“There was cake?” I say, looking at my own plate, which is more sensibly stocked than Uriah’s.“Yeah, someone just brought it out. Found a couple boxes of the mix in the back and baked it,” he says. “You can have a few bites of mine.”“A few bites? So you’re planning on eating that mountain of cake by yourself?”“Yes.” He looks confused. “Why?”“Never mind.”

“This made my father laugh. 'Mary made a cake, did she? Well, well. Better that than she should make a cake for herself, I suppose.'Peter then burst out: 'Why must you always be making a game of Mary? 'Tis not fair; 'tis not sporting.”

“I have to go," I say, "I am baking a cake.”

“Let's just say you may regret that second piece of cake.' Oh my God. Regret cake? Whatever was about to happen must be truly evil.”