"But it was to no avail. The cake ignored us, and proceeded to the front of the shop where some of the freshly baked pies were on display.

It came near a pie, and I'm not certain what happened exactly because I was stuck to the icing, but the end result was that the pie came alive."

"I live to serve thee, Cakeboss", said the pie.

Inwardly, the chomp groaned. It was always infuriating in a story when the characters started using archaic forms of verbs and prepositions.

"The Cakeboss said nothing. Instead, it proceeded, by dint of the same unknown trick or magic, to rouse all the pies in the bakery. It was a dark night, much like today, and the Cakeboss led them all out of the store in a silent and menacing procession. They used the rooftops to escape the hungry eyes of the chomps in the city, for their final destination appeared to be outside its limits.

Stolen story; please report.

Alas, my story ends there on the rooftop. It was warmer outside than in the cool room of my birth, so a lot of the ice-cream mochis began to come unstuck. I was one of the first to fall off the top of the Cakeboss. So I lay there in the shade provided by an overhanging eave, helpless and afraid, till this chomp came by and saved my thin rice-cake skin." Mo looked around, waiting for reactions from its audience.

"Some of our ilk are still out there", said Big-mon, stifling a sob.

"Stranded on rooftops or dingy city streets. Easy prey for a hungry chomp. We don't even know if any of them are still alive."

"A Cakeboss?" Asked the chomp insensitively.

"Or 'The Cakeboss'? I wonder if there are more of them out there."

"I hope not."