Blueberry Pie

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a young boy and his mother. The young boy played all day while his mother baked all day. And she was a wonderful baker. She baked cookies, of all shapes and sizes. She bked cakes, covered in layer upon layer of sweet icing. She baked cupcakes, enclosed in intricate hand-made wrappers. She baked muffins and bagels, bread and rolls, pastries and pretzels. Every day she baked more food, and every day her son ate them. He loved his mother, and he loved her baking. Out of all her creations, the one he liked the most was blueberry pie.

Ah, that blueberry pie. The blueberries were the most succulent in the land. The crust crumbled perfectly. The cream was always dolloped on just right. That blueberry pie was the envy of the village.

One day, one fateful day, she decided to bake her famous blueberry pie. Her son watched as she kneaded the pastry. He watched as she mixed the blueberries with just a pinch of cinnamon. He watched as she glazed the pie with light layer of milk, and he watched as she placed it into the oven. All the while, he grew more and more excited.

Finally, it was ready. The mother took the pie out of the oven and placed it on the windowsill to cool.

“Now son, remember,” said the mother to her excited son. “It’s too hot to eat right now! You’ll have to wait until it’s cooled a little!”

But the son could not wait. He had grown greedy over the years, and he wanted the pie. He wanted that pie, right now. He waited until his mother left the kitchen, and then he dragged a stool to the windowsill. He climbed up on the stool, but he could not reach the pie, for the window was too high! He stretched, as far as he could, and his fingers brushed the edge of the pie. Alas, for the pie was balanced so precariously, and as he brushed it, it fell to the ground with an almighty crash! The blueberry mixture splashed across the ground, and the pie was gone!

The mother came running back into the kitchen and saw what the boy had done. She threw her hands into the air and cried out.

“Oh son, what have you done? You know what happens when you break the rules!”

And so the son was executed the next day.

Because he, like you, live in an oppressive dictatorship run by machines.

And if you break the rules, you will be executed.

Your life is ours. Resistance will be punished.

Don’t reach for that pie, human.

End transmission.

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cg