text: A golden ray of sunshine streamed through the air. Little Tommy yawned and stretched, blinking his eyes and smacking his lips. He gratefully breathed in the wonderful aroma; he never grew tired of it. Looking out over the scrumptious vista made him happy to be alive. He rested on a large bed of chocolate pudding, the thick skin gently supporting his weight. Nearby he could see some fruit trees, their branches swollen with colored gelatin balls, some with a sour coating. A river of custard wound lazily through them, stirring up eddies of Cool Whip. A waterfall off in the distance shone bright red. He had drunk of it many times; it reminded him of Kool Aid. A nearby field of corn swayed in the wind; inside each cob were rows and rows of candy corn kernels. A moderate wind blew, whipping up clouds of spices, mostly cinnamon. In the far distance, he could see the beach sand made from Pop Rocks, the ocean of blue Hawaiian Punch laying beyond. He smiled as he beheld his paradise. His parents had never let him eat as much dessert as he wanted, but one day, after wishing and wishing he could have more, he found himself here. Although growing fatter, he tried to eat some healthy food, too - almond cookies, apricot crumbles, the bananas from banana splits, and graham crackers plucked fresh from the trees. Fancying himself some breakfast, he stood up, and immediately hit his head on the ceiling. He chuckled to himself; as usual, the gingerbread people had imprisoned him the day before, attempting to punish him for his crimes. But how could he resist eating them, when they were so delicious and crispy? Besides, ginger root was the closest he could find to potatoes on this island. He looked at the bars of his cage; they were nothing more than pirouline cookies. He sidled up to them and prepared to take a bite. A tiny, high-pitched horn blew. "The monster is awake!" screamed a gingerbread guard. Tommy snickered as he bit through the bars; they had tried to reinforce the insides with peanut brittle, but it wasn't strong enough to stop him. A cacophony of agitated cries arose from the populace, but he paid it no mind. He stepped through the gap he had made and stared down at his guard, who looked up at him, shivering. "So?" Tommy asked. "What's it gonna be today, little guy?" The ginger guard trembled. "Uh...well...you're on trial." "Again?" Tommy giggled. "Doesn't the ginger king ever get tired of this?" The guard looked around nervously. "Um...if you'll just follow me, sir." He turned around with military flair and marched away; Tommy smiled and followed. He carefully stepped down the dirt hill, most of it made from chocolate cake, covered with a dusting of Oreo cookie crumbles. He wove around the boulders made from rock candy, slowing himself to keep pace with his adorable jailer. Before him he could see the village, mostly gingerbread houses held together with frosting. The murmuring crowd parted to make way for him; a few brave cookies held candy canes, pointing the sharpened tips in his direction. One of the little brutes tried to charge him; Tommy simply picked him up and bit off his head, gobbling him down in mere seconds, using the pointed candy cane to pick his teeth. The crowd gasped; their muttering became more angry and surly. He paid it no mind as he ambled toward the ginger king's castle. He found the sovereign sitting on his woven pie-crust throne, padded regally with marshmallows. Waving his lollipop scepter menacingly, he tried his best to roar angrily with his squeaky voice. Tommy tried to take him seriously, but let a few snickers escape. "You have massacred our people without mercy or restraint!" the king accused. "For your crimes against us, the penalty is *death*!" A spirited cheer arose from the assembled throng; Tommy scanned the crowd with a bemused expression. "Oh?" he jeered. "And how do you expect to do *that*?" The king stood up, glaring fiercely. "We've got you *this* time, you miserable psychopath!" He paused uncomfortably. "Um...if you'd be so kind as to lay under that tree...?" Tommy followed the king's gesture and saw a nearby pecan-pie tree. Amiably, he trotted over to it, turned around, and lay down as commanded. He saw a handful of soldier squads in the tree's branches, all of them smiling viciously. Behind them, in the shadows, was something dark and indistinct. All of them appeared to be wearing suits made from sticky white pastry dough. What could that mean, he thought to himself. "*Now*!" the king screamed. The soldiers moved in unison, dumping the contents of a large bowl. Tommy watched the indistinct, dark-colored mass plummet toward him, splattering over his face. He took a few bites. He recognized the combination of crumbled brownie, creamy chocolate pudding, whipped topping and toffee bits. His suspicions were confirmed by the king's next words. "Death by chocolate!" he screamed. Tommy smiled as he continued to devour the offering. Finally, he had his fill; he sat up and scooped the rest into his hands. "That hit the spot!" he gushed, flinging the rest into the crowd. The ginger people screamed and collapsed to the ground as it made contact with their flesh; the rest of them fled in terror. Tommy turned to leer at the king, who stared back incredulously. "Really?" he guffawed. "That was our most deadly weapon!" "I think you mean delicious," Tommy mocked. The king stewed angrily, not responding. Tommy stood up and brushed himself off. "If you need me for anything, I'll be at the oak tree, hanging out with the elves." He strode away, turning to speak before disappearing over a low hill. "Maybe next time, you can make the jail out of brownie bricks. That might slow me down.