He knew what that meant. He also knew that it was too late to run or hide. There was no turning back now. They were in pie territory. The chomp leapt off from his saddle and urged his patoot to be quiet.

He crouched beside her, very still, listening intently, eyes peeled for the slightest sign of movement. For a period of time that felt like an eternity, absolutely nothing happened. He smelt it before he saw it - the scent of freshly baked apple pie.

It came flying towards him at a breakneck speed, missed his face by a few bare inches, and landed with a splat on the ground behind him.

"Ambush!" Poot screamed from somewhere far ahead.

The chomp smacked Floof's rump.

"Go girl! Get away from here!"

Floof meowed in protest, loyal to a fault. But he pulled on her reins, guided her off the road, and smacked her rump again.

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"It's for your own good girl! Now go before it's too late!"

"I promise I'll find you again." He said this in a gentler tone.

Floof galloped away into the grasslands, meowing disconsolately.

The chomp had no time to process her loss, for a key lime pie hurtled towards him. He rolled out of the way.

Who was throwing these pies, and why?

He heard a squelching sound behind him. He turned around. The apple pie that had attacked him earlier slowly raised itself off the ground till it was balanced on its edge, and started rolling about like a wheel. No one was throwing these pies. They had been throwing themselves. The pies had gone feral, like a lot of the cakes in Cakelandia.

He had managed to distract them so that Floof could get away.

Now where was Poot when you needed him?