Oh boy, cake! You eat cake until you are reduced to button-popping immobility. Then it happens-- you suffer a a massive and totally unexpected stomachache-- a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad stomachache-- the mother of all stomachaches-- the kind that removes its shoe and bangs it on the table and shouts "We will bury you!"

You manage to drag yourself to your bed, where Nemo finds you later, wincing and moaning. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"I just ate 50 cakes and boy, do I have a stomachache."

"I just got to thinking how fishes can't blink and now I have a sympathy headache."