SUNDAY BREAKFAST

The piece of wedding cake had been sent by the bride. It arrived in a silver box. “Yum”, I though, “Coffee and cake.” I made myself the coffee, I placed the cake on a plate, but then, as I was about to spear it with a fork, it suddenly transformed into a malevolently hostile robot that would have attacked me if I had not beaten it immobile with my favorite Elvis Presley coffee cup. (Image supplied by Faux Smoke)

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The secret word is Decepticon