I want pie.

Yes, I want pie. Tis the season, you know. ::coughs:: ::sings:: The Season For Piii-iiies. ::coughs again:: With this tummy problem I've been denied all the God given rights to each American to enjoy during the card-created holiday season. I've been slapped on the hand like some naughty child and sent to the corner without my treat. The top most right? The nummy treat? Pie. And like that child in the corner, I am in pout mode extreme. (Oh come on, I had to) Oh pie, how I long for thee.

Yummy, hot, gooey, snotty, fruity, nutty, oozy, sticky PIE. Pie pie pie pie pie. Flakey crust that surrounds nummy filling that sticks to the roof of your mouth and stains your best shirt because you forgo the fork and used your fingers. Finger pie is the best. Don't lick those fingers! I'll lick them for you! Oh that was gross, what's wrong with me? Why can't I have pie? I want pie! PIE!I can't have pie, I can bearly eat normal food. I can't have pie. But...but...

I want pie!

Please? I'll be good, I'll behave, I'll never ask for another thing ever ever again.

I want pie. Just..some pie...But no...

No..no pie.

No pie.

No.

::whimper:: ...pie...