Several tall men in suits emerge from the back, each carrying assault rifles. They point their guns at you and the manager of the restaurant locks the door and bolts it shut. He shows you to your table, and you are tied to the seat, doomed to spend the rest of your days eating here.
I want a large piece of cheese cake, inside a chocolate cake, inside a vanilla cake, inside another chocolate cake, inside a hunk of a giant cube of cheese.