You’ve had your ear to Apple Pie’s knot, haven’t you. I KNOW that. He put that junk in your head, and I’m gonna kick it out. I’m Pear Pie, my wedge is bigger than his, and by now you already know that cause I just told you I kidnapped your dog so Apple Pie didn’t really eat him.

People have told me I’m creamy. It suprises them as they say it, because on first bite, they also tell me I’m crusty. What could be creamy AND crusty and found on an apple tree. Exactly. I, on the other hand, come straight from the house of Pi Alpha Pi.

To sum up, I’m not God. I’m that high-rolling whoremaster that you look at and use as the basis for an abstracted, Platonic notion of an all-powerful God. I’d say you have some imagination on you, but fact is I’m Pear Pie. Vote for me in the piesidential election before I plane your taste buds flat. I’m so good, Sir William Golding dubbed my ass “Lord of the Pies.”

Maybe somebody can help Apple Pie deal with that, I don’t know.