Bakery
A bakery is an establishment in which non-Italian chefs produce and sell flour-based baked goods made in an oven such as bread, cookies, cakes, doughnuts, bagels, pastries, and pies. Usually the audience for these buildings are people who go to these shops to see how far they can push America's obesity rate, fat teenage kids who raid the stores at night, and homeless people by dumpster diving and/or with an intervening by the local Mormon church to give them via drive.
Bakeries have existed since the time of Rome, people usually eating them for feasts and weddings and all other stupid stuff they did. Well, when in Rome. The desire for baked goods promoted baking throughout Europe and expanded into eastern parts of Asia, where we possibly got sushi. Bakers started baking bread and other goods at home and selling them on the streets. During World War II, this precious art was stopped and rations were made, slicing everything (although bread had known the feeling before so it didn't matter) in half. When the war was over and 50s suburbia began, housewives began doing the baking and usually sucked at it, leading to a rise of abuse. Obviously, this abuse falls on the high standards of baking as a collective sigh of the patriarch was made and the gun to my head was lowered.
Stop that blabbering! How can I open a bakery?[edit | edit source]
Sorry man, that's what the HowTo guys do.
Alright, what about the history of bakeries?[edit | edit source]
I just did that.
The history of bakeries intertwined with the history of.. uhh... you?[edit | edit source]
How does that even?
Please?[edit | edit source]
What?
Pretty please with a cherry on top of an apple cinnamon cupcake?[edit | edit source]
Oh shit, that's my favorite!!! Sure!!
Of course it is fat ass[edit | edit source]
Huh?
Nothing.[edit | edit source]
Anyways, my mother was once the owner of a bakery. I remember, it was 2007 what happened on that fateful day... Yes, on September 11, 2007, probably one of the worst things that could ever happen on a fine September day, and especially on the 11th, when she was shot by the Italian mob by making a bad pie. Yes, you might have thought that they had only specialized in pizza and all of that Italian stuff, but this was a very stupid Italian group who didn't know what the term "pizza pie" was evidently, and didn't like pumpkin pie (and in reality who does?) So, I swore to get back at the Italian mob, but not because they were Italian, no way, just because they killed my mom. I, uhh.. like Italian culture. Look. I found out the location where the mob was, threw a molotov cocktail into their building, and burned it to the ground.
Yes, it is weird that I'm confessing my crimes so... savagely on a Uncyclopedia article, but it really was the only way. I have an outlet to now flow in my depression and unkempt suicidal thoughts I've had for so long for all the horrible stuff I did. Looking back, I feel so horrible, but.. I actually feel better. It was justified, yeah, justified. In fact, I should've probably took their bodies and eaten them. I also have a kink of cannibalism..
Shut up[edit | edit source]
Huh?
Shut the fuck up[edit | edit source]
What did I do??
You're weird[edit | edit source]
Cannibalism isn't that weird
Yes it is, what the fuck[edit | edit source]
That's it.
What the hell are you doing- stop touching me[edit | edit source]
hehe
STOP STOP STOP NOO[edit | edit source]
stab stab stab
Cannibal bakeries[edit | edit source]
The history of cannibal bakeries is really a long one, going back to the days of people luring children into their meat houses to chop them up and feed them to their neighbors. Usually the reaction was "it tastes funny" and whatever, but luckily there's probably one opening in like.. San Bernadino County, if you take the left down. Yeah.