A few minutes ago, a mass email came through. "There's cake, you know where."
As I hadn't had any lunch, I went to see what there was, followed by Matt. In the standard food room, there was a white sheet cake with chocolate frosting, on a rectangular Tupperware cake tray, and the remnants of a dozen donuts.
Cake texture looked a little odd. Matt said it almost looked moldy; there were kind of cotton candy looking feathery edges to it, and he and I continued to puzzle over what it was. Angel food?
The sender of the email came by, so I asked her. "We can't figure out what kind it is."
She said, "Sponge cake," and pointed at a printed sign on the wall: "April Fool's!" Then she said please not to tell anyone, and that we hadn't really been the "targets" of the joke.
It was an odd-looking (and very large!) sponge, even at that, and I think I've just realized what it was. It was made of that amorphous white stuff that is used for upholstery cushions in place of regular foam, and does rather look like calcified cotton candy.
As I hadn't had any lunch, I went to see what there was, followed by Matt. In the standard food room, there was a white sheet cake with chocolate frosting, on a rectangular Tupperware cake tray, and the remnants of a dozen donuts.
Cake texture looked a little odd. Matt said it almost looked moldy; there were kind of cotton candy looking feathery edges to it, and he and I continued to puzzle over what it was. Angel food?
The sender of the email came by, so I asked her. "We can't figure out what kind it is."
She said, "Sponge cake," and pointed at a printed sign on the wall: "April Fool's!" Then she said please not to tell anyone, and that we hadn't really been the "targets" of the joke.
It was an odd-looking (and very large!) sponge, even at that, and I think I've just realized what it was. It was made of that amorphous white stuff that is used for upholstery cushions in place of regular foam, and does rather look like calcified cotton candy.