You walk in to Grandma's house. Yes, she's baking again. The sweet smell of dense apple pie with a dash of cinnamon and a buttery, flaky crust engulfs your nose. The first bite sends you in to a state of complete and utter bliss. Grandma leaves to warm up her dial up computer. You open your eyes and feel a strange urge. Do I want to make love to this pie? Knowing the answer, you cling to the hope that Grandma doesn't come back into the kitchen anytime soon.
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