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"The elves were very apologetic about the mushrooms not performing
precisely to specification," the Dragon went on. "They claimed that it
wasn't intentional, and said that they would give me this if I
would refrain from eating any more of their children."
As he said the word "this" he produced with a flourish a cake-stand on
which was a large chocolate cake.
"A magic cake," Astra said flatly. "So what will eating it do to me?"
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"Nothing, as it's not magic. But you're not going to get any. I like cake and plan to eat it all myself."
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"It is a memory-altering cake that the elves produced to my specification. Soon you will have no memory of having been a princess from Aqualaria but will believe that you are Boobs, my devoted slave."
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"I think that it will be more fun if I don't tell you in advance. We'll see just how long it takes you to realise."
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"It;s not for you, it's for him." "Me?!" you say, alarmed.
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"It's not magic and it's not for eating. It's for throwing at you. A cream pie is traditional, but this should be far messier."
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