What did the muffin say to the cupcake?

The red velvet cupcake with the bright blue frosting- not even fucking blue; "neon, cotton candy turquoise"- and the little multicolored heart sprinkles.

Of course, it had to be sat right fucking next to him. Out of every place in the entire universe, it was placed practically up his ass.

And when the owner put it down, he could feel one single corporation-made confectionery monstrosity fall on to his wrapper. It has polluted his soul. If he was a baby bird, his mother would push him out of the nest into the sharp, painful spikes of life. He would no longer recognize himself in the mirror; that is, if he had any concept of what a mirror was in the first place.

But rather than sit in his emptiness and self pity, he decided to get angry. What the fuck kinda bakery even has whatever the unholy fuck that is and vegan banana pecan muffins in stock?! How was he, delicious and nugmeg-y as he is, even made in the same world as that abomination?

He knew he felt some kind of evil that morning, but this was way worse than he thought.

Absolutely nothing at all.