text: On the night of 20th February, 2020, a group of cult members gathered around a large table in a dim lit room. They were assembled to perform the yearly ritual. Each member of the cult was to participate in this ritual, on a specific day. Tonight was her turn. Nobody knew how it originated. Some historians believed that it began in the 19th Century Western Europe. Others traced it back to 15th century Germany. The Greek members of the cult started the use of wax lights. It was meant to honor the goddess Artemis. Since then wax lights have been an integral part of the ritual. A figure emerged from the other room, walking delicately towards the large table. Both the hands held ahead, he was carrying the ‘offering’ for tonight. The way he took each step meant that the ‘offering’ was not to be disturbed, yet. He gently placed the ‘offering’ at the centre of the table. Everyone in the room peered at it. The baby’s face looked adorable. Lying head sideways on the table, fast asleep. It was impossible to not love it. That doughy belly, soft hands and those tiny little fingers. The skin looked so smooth. And to imagine what would happen to it in the next few minutes, a shiver ran down her spine. *‘Why?’* she thought. ‘*Why do we have to do it?’* She was handed over the knife. She accepted it with trembling hands. Wax lights were lit around the offering. One, Two, Three, Four... Nineteen & Twenty. The tradition *had* to be followed. She was nervous. She wasn’t ready for it. ‘*This is taking it too far. We shouldn’t be doing this.’* she thought*.* Everyone around her, though anxious, gave her an encouraging nod. *‘You have to do it’*, was the unanimous call. To her, it felt wrong. Tremblingly, she looked around the room. Even through the eye masks and those stupid hats that everyone wore, tension in them was visible. “It is time,” said the person next to her. ‘*There is no getting away from this*’, she thought. She looked around and asked, “Where?” “The belly,” came a response. She knew what she had to do. She had seen it done countless times. She let out a gust of air from her mouth and the wax lights went off one by one. The knife in her hand moved towards the belly of the baby on the table. The sharp end of the knife pierced the belly and... slush... came out the gooey chocolate. Everyone in the room burst into laughter and started clapping. “This was a wicked, wicked idea,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. Everyone started singing the birthday song. The ritual of cutting cakes continues to this day. When a video of hyper-realistic cakes made by an independent cake artist Luke Vincentini was shared on Facebook. It went viral. He made cakes that looked like a kettle, a soup can, a shoe & a meatloaf. In the video, it was impossible to know that they weren’t the actual objects until a knife came on screen and sliced across it. It was only natural that someone with a dark sense of humor would one day have an idea of a hyper-realistic ‘sleeping baby’ cake.