[ The cake is good. It's sinfully good, even. As you eat it, however, something . . . feels odd. Your stomach wrenches left and the ground is coming up to meet your face awfully fast.
You try to cry out but only a bleet escapes your lips. Whoops! You've been turned into a black goat! ]
You try to cry out but only a bleet escapes your lips. Whoops! You've been turned into a black goat! ]
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