When it's not a malteaser

Pass the Gin There on the stairs, was a lone Malteaser…similar to the topping on Mr Aimee’s birthday cake. I saw it from across the landing, and as I marched towards it I began to construct my finger wagging that he had been foolishly lazy enough to give the child CAKE rather than discipline him. I stood and glared at the offending ball of chocolate, thinking at this point that I would quite like some cake for breakfast. I bent down, I plucked it off the carpet ready to go and wave it at Mr Aimee who was already in the shower, thinking I could have a sneaky taste since I hadn’t even had a cup of tea yet, that’s when the smell hit me.

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