[At least it's not booby-trapped. As for any other kind of trap, then...hell, there's only one way to find out. And it does smell so fucking delicious. Clarissa jams the utensil through the pastry and scoops out a forkful of fragrant, sticky-red goodness. She gives the cherry goop a cautionary sniff, but she can't detect anything through the overwhelming scent of the fruit; without any further delays, she shoves the fork into her mouth.
...Holy crap.
Clarissa's eyes gleam and she swiftly darts in to fill up her fork again.]
no subject
...Holy crap.
Clarissa's eyes gleam and she swiftly darts in to fill up her fork again.]
This is great!