ƒnƒCƒ‰ƒCƒg‚Í"Said Mommy, with great fervor."

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How I met your mother ƒV[ƒYƒ“9yŒ´‘čzBedtime Stories

Simon. Nice to see you. So, what brings you to New York?

I live here now.

What? Really?

Yeah.

That's great.

Can I get a fork?

He'd always been a deadbeat and your classic hoser phony, but seeing Simon all cleaned up hit Robin like a Zamboni. And as she looked him up and down, young Robin felt a tingle. Had Simon blossomed finally? And if so, was he single?

deadbeat ‘Ó‚ŻŽŇ hoser ƒJƒiƒ_l phony ‹U•¨ tingle ‚¤‚¸‚Ť blossom –Ł—Í“I‚É‚Č‚é

So great.

She purred, whilst batting her eyelashes like a flooze.

flooze ƒ„ƒŠƒ}ƒ“

Yup, I'm engaged to Louise Marsh, and our pad's got a Jacuzz!

pad ‰Ć

The bakery spinned, the floor dropped out. The air was thick as syrup. Poor Robin swooned, she couldn't breathe, her eyes began to tear up. And as she tried to stammer some excuse to get away,

Our wedding cake is pretty bitchin', eh?

And so was born the worst idea poor Robin's ever had. And on Ted's door there came a rapping.

I did something bad.

As Robin told her tale, Ted knew she'd made a massive boo-boo. For stealing someone's wedding cake is terribly bad juju.

Robin, I'm beside myself to see what you've become! You must return this cake at once!

I can't!

Why not?

'Cause... Yum.

for he had never seen a brazen act so vicious. Robin felt remorse, and yet...

brazen ‚ ‚‚Š‚Ü‚ľ‚˘ vicious •s“š“ż‚Č remorse —ǐS‚Ě™čÓ

Oh, God, this is delicious!

So one piece led to two, then three, then five, then 17. She savaged that poor cake like some rapacious wolverine. Eating, gobbling, munching, so the frenzied night wore on. And by the time your mom arrived, the cake was halfway gone.

rapacious ‹­—~‚Č wolverine ƒEƒ‹ƒ”ƒ@ƒŠ[ƒ“ savaged –\‚ę‚ÄŠš‚݂‚­ munch ƒ‚ƒOƒ‚ƒOH‚ׂé frenzied ”M‹ś“I‚Č

I came as soon as I got word. So how bad is the damage?

See for yourself the product of her cake-in-gullet crammage!

Half a cake? What have I done?! The world shall not forgive it! This day will live in infamy. I never shall outlive it! For I have become the girl that eats her feelings, don't mistake it. I think I need to get out of this chair before I break it.

infamy •s–ź—_ outlive Ž•ž‚ˇ‚é

Nonsense! Hogwash! Balderdash!

Hogwash ‚­‚ž‚ç‚Č‚˘ Balderdash ‚˝‚팞

Said Mommy, with great fervor.

with great fervor ”MˆÓ‚đ‚ŕ‚Á‚Ä

You can't stop now, for don't you see? To the uninformed observer, you're not some sad cliche, some loser from a chick-lit story. You're Robin, and you're half a wedding cake away from glory! If you quit now, then Simon wins, the tale comes to a stop at how you saw an ex, freaked out, and robbed a pastry shop. If you have the guts, my dear, it's time to get empowered and be remembered for this sweet behemoth you devoured. And years from now, the troubadour will raise his voice and sing of the time that Robin took the cake. And ate the whole... damned... thing.

Once more into the breach she surged, as Ted and Mommy cheered and bite by bite the towering confection disappeared. Some friends were called to come and watch. And no one had to beg. It soon became a party. Barney even got a keg. Forkful after forkful, Robin guzzled French vanilla making noises not unlike those made by a gorilla.

Ooh, ooh, ooh!

Come on, Robin, finish it.

Yeah.

Mom's exhortations rang like Apollo coaching Rocky 'gainst a frosted Clubber Lang.

Oh, Rocky IV, my favorite.

No, no, IV is with the Russians.

No, IV's the one where he talks weird because of his concussions.

I think that's all of them.

Hey now, no need to be discordant.

It's Rocky IV.

No, III.

No, II.

It's really not important.

At last young Robin raised the final bite up to her lips the crowd grew still. The only sound was Barney eating chips. Just one bite left.

Hey, this is like that scene from Cool Hand Luke. You know, My boy can eat 50 eggs Right?

She's gonna puke.

But Robin did not puke. She ate that bite and stood up, proud.

Wait. I'm not done yet.

She shouted, to the startled crowd.

I've bested this here wedding cake. I'll gladly wear that crown. But now that I have done that task it's time to wash it down. For it's been such an awesome night, there's just one way to cap it. I'm going to drink this entire keg. Okay, Barney, tap it.

Oh!

Wow.

And now that night's remembered not for Robin getting dumped

but as the night we took her in to get her stomach pumped. And look at that, the little angel's sleeping soundly, Gus. Looks like our problems...

Pick a lane!

I hate this stupid bus. Marvin, I'm afraid this night is not much of a winner. Stuck in traffic, now we've missed the whole rehearsal dinner. I pray that I was right and that you'll have no memory of this godforsaken ride down the congested LIE. things can't get worse, I swear.

Adios, truck stop burrito. Ooh! Do not go in there.

Okay, one more story, and I'll try to tell it pretty. The tale of Barney Stinson, Player King of New York City.

Once upon a time, we all went out to get our drink on. When who should walk in but a girl with sweater tight and pink on. She ordered up a beer. I think you see where this is going. As Barney put it,

Boy-oy-oy-oing.

He rose to go approach this girl commanding such intrigue when mammy interrupted.

Dude, she's way out of your league. She's not in Daisy Dukes, nor squeezed into a Hooters tee. And I don't see a Curves membership dangling from her key. She has no glaring spray tan, no unicorn tattoos. She's sipping Chardonnay, not pounding cherry-flavored booze. Her makeup isn't running, she's not playing with her hair. There's very little chance she'll let you put it anywhere.

Your challenge is accepted, Lil. There is no girl too pretty, for I am Barney Stinson, Player King of New York City.

You can't anoint yourself the king, just like that jerk, LeBron.

He left the Cavs three years ago. Bro, give it up, move on. So why am I king? Glad you asked.

We didn't.

Never do.

It's origin story time. And trust me, every word is true.

One morning long ago, I woke up next to a conquest. So many great things 'her boobs, her rack, her chest. She had a thirst for action, and young Barney was a-quenchin' it.

Is this important to the story?

No, just thought I'd mention it.

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