Lemon drizzle cake is a lie! It’s fake news. It’s hyperbole. It’s the short kid in class who gets his pocket money stolen by big bullies, but then goes on to be a total nerd, start a computer business, becomes a billionaire, but inadvertently trashes the environment with a zero accountability policy that, ultimately, leads to the total destruction of the human race – extinction. That’s lemon drizzle cake!
This is why, in order to save the species, we’ve invented lemon dribble cake. It’s the same as lemon drizzle cake in many ways, there’s just not much drizzling involved. In its place, so crucially, is dribble. This is not any ordinary dribble, however, as this is the finest dribble known to humanity! Read on for further news about the cake that’s simply oozing with class (and dribble).
Lemon Dribble Cake
Add a drop of sugar, a driblet of salt, a trickle of lemon, and smear of chemical grade bleach (plus human saliva) and you’ve got yourself lemon dribble cake. It’s easy to make, apart from procuring the dribble from humans – for that bit, you’re going to have to invest £500,000 into your very own dribble farm.
We’ve done this already – Moronic Dribble, it’s called. The difficult bit was rounding up willing humans to willingly dribble into buckets for the sole purpose of glazing lemon dribble cake. Thankfully, due to almost a decade of austerity, there are loads of unemployed people in England right now, so we had little problem sticking them on zero hour contracts for soul destroying work.
Moronic Dribble is located out the back of the Professional Moron office and actually spills over into several neighbouring properties, for which there’s an ongoing legal wrangle. Don’t let any negative press deter you from what we’re doing here – we’re providing working class scumbags with meaningful work!
All day they sit dribbling liberally into buckets, which are emptied over the lemon dribble cakes to provide them with that authentic dribble-based texture. It’s gross, but you don’t need to think about that when the little, ikkle, cutey, wutey cakes arrive on your plate – all you have to do is stuff them home with much relish!
Due to overwhelming demand following on from our first test audience to remove the saliva element, we’ve focussed on other stenches and elements of the human body. What encapsulates the “drizzle” bit of lemon drizzle cake, since dribble is not pleasing? Dandruff! It’s so obvious we couldn’t believe it. Thankfully, this means we’ve been able to transform our Moronic Dribble farm into a dandruff farm.
We’re actually not sure if any of this is legal anymore, as most of our workers are now complaining about the 20 hour shift patterns and out shifty approach to paying wages (i.e. preferring not to). Still, once we broke the flamethrower out they started scrubbing at their heads like you wouldn’t believe, emptying all that nutritious skull snow into those buckets.
Our lemon dandruff cakes have never tasted better, partly as we’ve upped the sugar dose by 300g per cake. We’ve got this dude from the Foods Standards Agency turning up tomorrow (with a police escort to keep him safe – Mr. Wapojif don’t like the FSA) with the aim of shutting us down, but we’re ready to pelt dandruff in their eyes and, in the confusion, will shift our production centre into the building next door. Keeping it classy.