Hello everyone. I’m Lex Luthor.
Please, don’t bother to concern yourself with how I am able to speak through this blog. Explaining the mathematical algorithm that allowed me to predict that the best way to reach you specifically through making a post on this average, low-rated blog you are now reading would be far above and beyond your limited intelligence and, frankly, is about as boring as trying to explain Calculus to a dog. The important thing is that you’re here reading it exactly as I expected you to be, and so I will be using the opportunity to speak to you and others like you about a…certain something that has come to my attention.
Something involving me and, oh, forty cakes I believe.
Yes, I’m well aware that this has been out for a few years and I’m only getting to it right now. Some of us have more important things to do than waste what little life we have looking at random garbage on the Internet…like make billions of dollars and single-handedly bring entire teams of so-called gods to their knees through nothing more than the raw power of your intellect. Oh, but I’m sure whatever middle-income job you have is so much more stressful that you feel the need to retard your neurons gazing at your computer screen watching the latest collection of cat videos on Youtube while the embedded subliminal messages interspersed with the frame rate slowly brainwash you to shop at Lexmart.
Yeah, I went there.
The point being is I became aware of this…meme…recently. A certain 1970s doodle featuring me “taking forty cakes” when no one is looking with child-like grammar associated with it. Many of you consider this to be…humorous. Rather silly and childish. Over the top. There has even been a so-called “TV Trope” made from it called “And That’s Terrible” to point out when someone is foolish enough to state the obvious about evil deeds of very minor importance. I’ve lost count of how many of you pale, reclusive, overweight humanoid sponges with the slightest modicum of image editing background stopped treating your acne and shoving Locos Tacos into your mouth long enough to make some GIF insulting me from that image.
Therefore, I wanted to take the time to address some concerns. A certain, shall-we-say, “pro-Kryptonian propaganda” piece in 2011 notwithstanding, I suppose some of you may be wondering if I truly did take forty cakes in my illustrious career. If I would ever, how do you say, stoop so low as to pilfer forty cakes when my normal gamut includes things such as manipulating this country into making me President of the United States or building robotic girlfriends both more advanced mentally as well as sexier than you could possibly dream of. My answer?
Yes, in fact. Yes I would. And that’s not terrible.
It’s bloody marvelous.
Yes, yes, I’m sure many of you are snickering to yourselves thinking how pathetic that sounds. But I’m sure many of you have never tried to steal so much as a single cake in your entire lives. And those that have were probably content to shoplift a package of Twinkies at best. None of you have the slightest idea of the logistics involved in an operation to steal forty cakes. Not surprising. Just one of many things a common human thinks sounds so easy until they try to do it, and then they resemble a chimpanzee trying to assemble a calculator.
Let’s start with the planning. Most people would be foolish enough to try and knock over their local Walmart or grocery store bakery looking for forty cakes. Well, those would come up short. Those places sell maybe twenty or thirty at any given time. You’d either have to waste time going into the back searching for the others to make up the total or go and knock over a second bakery. Some bakeries don’t have that many cakes on hand either. You’d end up grabbing things like danish or brownies or cookies or anything else to try and make up the difference, but you definitely wouldn’t have forty cakes. Oh, you could try knocking over a bake sale if you wanted. That might get you the total. But that’s a little like saying you decided to knock over a local jewelry store instead of a museum and “settling” for that subpar score. So no, you’d have to find the right locale to get the cakes from.
And you’d have to make sure they were in a good spot. Not in the middle of a city or with easy access to a police station. I bet you didn’t know that the law enforcement turnaround time for a bakery robbery is an average of 195 seconds in this country. Of course you didn’t. Rather than think about things like that, you look at memes and tropes. And most of the bakeries that would sell forty high-quality cakes freshly baked at any given time are heavily staffed and frequented by customers. Plenty of witnesses and lots of foot traffic, in other words. Still think it’s so easy to strike at the right spot when “no one is looking”?
Then, of course, there’s the actual heist. I don’t know if you failed to realize this, but cakes are not like stacks of bills, gold, or jewelry. Any idiot in a ski mask can run into a bank and just toss whatever money or valuables he has into a bag, turn around and run for it; and when he gets back to whatever diseased former crack-house hovel he’s staying in empty it and count his goods. You try to just snatch and grab cake and all you’ll end up with is a monstrous cleaning bill for your sack. You have to be careful with them. You have to brace them evenly, especially if you’re stealing cakes that are sheet style or excessively leavened. And unlike normal valuables, you can’t bother stacking them. Even if you have those cake boxes they put them in, you can stack maybe two or three at the most before they crush the one on the bottom, so you have to handle each one individually and keep them all distinct. And that’s just to get them in your getaway vehicle. I’m assuming most of you have at least the income and background to know what it’s like to ride with a single cake in a motor vehicle and the strategy involved in keeping it from sliding around or smashing. Now…magnify that to forty times, and take the time involved in acquiring the cake from a bakery to loading it up and driving off. Now realize you only have 195 seconds.
Still think it’s so simple to just take forty cakes?
Knowing you (like I do…I’m literally browsing over a complete dossier on everyone who will ever read this blog post as I write this), you’d be silly enough to go cheap and just rent a van for the operation. You’d get ten cakes on the bottom of it before you’d realize you’d be out of room and be forced to start stacking, and when the police arrived to arrest you you’d be both frustrated and the bottom of your rental van would resemble a kindergarten picnic-ground after they passed out the cupcakes. Some of you might have the foresight to bring a U-Haul truck or the like, but that’d do little better. Then of course there’s the rare one among you who would splurge on a bakery truck. Assuming you got one large enough, assuming you went through all the proper channels to hide your rental, and assuming the police aren’t stupid enough to suspect the mystery bakery truck (which I’m sure you put no effort into repainting to look like the bakery you’re robbing), you’d then still fail because you’d need the manpower to move those cakes into the truck in the 195 second window.
And if you did somehow manage to make off with forty cakes, what then? I know what you would do: you’d end up with a pile of rotten cake with flies buzzing about it in the corner of some dingy warehouse somewhere. Cakes are very particular. Each one is a commodity and yet priceless in its own right. No two cakes are perfectly identical. You can’t just go around in public flaunting your cake and stuffing your face with it. People would get suspicious. They’d wonder how you suddenly came into so much cake, how you always seem to have cake on hand nowadays, and so on and so forth until one of them would say to themselves: “That cake looks just like the icing job they do at that one bakery that got knocked over…” And then you’d be sunk. You couldn’t sell them on the black market either. Even if any of you had the slightest idea where to go to peddle black market cakes, they wouldn’t accept the like from you. And if you did, what would you make off of it? $20 for the whole set? Yes, I’m sure that will cover all the expenses you put into pulling off the heist. Oh, you could try selling it yourself on street corners, but that would only make the police more suspicious, wouldn’t it? Seeing you with a large cake truck doling it out to the hungry, impoverished masses for a nominal fee? Oh yes, that doesn’t scream “red flag” at all. Your only choice would be to hang on to the cake for the two weeks or so it would take to make it tasteless or inedible, eating maybe two or three yourself before getting over-elevated blood sugar.
I hate to coin such a cliche proverb, but you would only have your cake. You wouldn’t be able to eat it too.
So I don’t really appreciate the ignorant likes of you, Internet Community, downplaying one of my greatest achievements. None of you would ever be able to pull off a caper of such magnitude and make it profitable. You haven’t the slightest intelligence, connections, or resources to manage it.
And as for those of you who would like to point out to the alleged rumor online that a certain “Tony Stark” would prove to be a greater genius than me, I would just like to point out that while Stark might be able to beat me in engineering, he couldn’t pull off stealing forty cakes if his monstrous bank account depended on it. At his best and most sober he could only manage twenty-five at best. Maybe twenty-eight if he had help from the Phoenix Force.
I, on the other hand, can take forty cakes whenever and wherever I want. I’m not even trying. If I really wanted, I could take forty-one cakes. I’d like to see the entire Justice League pull that one off. Just the attempt would amuse me.
In closing, as revenge for your mockery, I have just had my lobbyists persuade Congress to institute a somewhat-shady and yet perfectly-lawful penalty on you all. I’m now legally entitled to fifty cents out of every Social Security contribution anyone who has ever eaten a cake in this country makes for the next 50 years. Have a nice day.
Now if you’ll excuse me, all of this talk has made me hungry for some Devil’s Food…and I have plenty to spare.