My name is Alana and I have a problem. If food looks gorgeous, I automatically want to eat it. Even if there are cupcakes are so gorgeous that eating them would be a crime, I’d still gobble that cupcake up. I’ve come across some amazing popsicles that I wouldn’t mind hiding in my stomach and my inner nerd would go insane if anyone placed one of these geektastic comic-themed desserts on my table. Basically, nothing will turn off my sweet tooth.
Well…almost nothing. Sometimes I happen across a delectable that turns me off completely. They’re probably delicious, but my brain won’t let my mouth come anywhere near them. These creepy cakes stop my sweet tooth right in its tracks and makes it want to run and hide. I’m shivering just thinking about it.
Remember when you were little and stayed up late to watch a scary movie even though your mom warned you that you would have nightmares? When you closed your eyes in your tiny bed that night, this creepy face is what you saw. And now someone put it on a cake. The horror, the horror!
What’s more appetizing than an open chest cavity, amiright?!
If this were a real leg covered in a cast, it would be stinking like low tide. That thought alone would turn me off from cutting into those bandages.
It looks too real. Imagine if someone put this in front on you on Thanksgiving and you cut into it and it’s CAKE. I would first get angry that there was no turkey and then I would lose my mind that a cake could so thoroughly fool me. Just look at the bumpy skin! My mind’s going to explode!
I don’t know what creeps me out more: the perfect teeth, the orange gums, the sound dentures make when they unstick from the top of a mouth, or the thought of them floating in a glass next to my grandmother’s bed. Take your pick.
Somebody come quick! There’s a baby trapped in this cake! No, I will not eat it until we save the baby! SOMEONE SAVE THE BABY.
No no no no no no no nope no thank you no. Not even if I spoke Parseltongue. No.
I admire the craftsmanship, really I do. But if you set this down in front of me when I’m waiting to blow out the candles, I will promptly take off my shoe and attempt to kill it. Or possibly faint.
This cake combines my fear of trashcan surprises and clowns. Oh, you’ve never had a trashcan surprise? A trashcan surprise occurs when you lift the lid of the trashcan to put the bag in and a possum is staring back at you. But instead of a possum, it’s a deranged clown. Surprise, indeed.
“Well, I was just driving my truck back from the state fair and happened to find this little fell-er on the side of the road by the crick. I scooped him up and thought it would make a great stew. I love me some armadillo stew. What do you think, Mama?”
This cake would be great for a zombie cosplay party. You can shuffle your dead eyes and bleeding mouth over to the dessert table and feast on BRRRAAAIIINNNSSSS. Delish.
If we asked the baker what the main ingredients of this cake are, I’m sure she would tell us it’s made of sugar and nightmares. I love to look at it, just don’t ask me to eat it.