Hark! In the land of sweet temptation, there standeth a henge not of stone nor timber, but of Twinkies stacked high in a perfect ring. Golden and spongy, their cream-filled hearts dost glimmer in the sun, promising both joy and a most questionable sugar rush. Some say it was built by pastry wizards, others claim it be the dream of a very ambitious baker with too much time and frosting.
To approach this henge is to enter a realm of absolute decadence. The air doth hum with the scent of vanilla and mystery, and each Twinkie in its place seems to whisper, "Eat me, for I am the food of the gods!" Many a weary traveler hath tried to claim a piece, only to find themselves overwhelmed by the sheer fluffiness of it all, and often in the midst of a most inconvenient sugar coma.
And yet, the henge endureth, a monument to the glory of snack cakes and sugar-fueled fantasies. No one knows the true purpose of this golden circle, but all who partake leave with a smile—and a regretful glance at their waistlines.
Credit | ChatGTP
