This is a thing that still exists in my dining room. When I made this gingerbread house over a month ago, my brother was making his own gingerbread house. His was the gingerprison known as “Santatraz,” while mine was the safehouse set up by three of the escaped inmates: a cylops and a walrusman who were the victim of experiments, and a permanently scarred soul who survived an endless conflict known only as “The War.”
The unfortunate truth about the safehouse’s south-facing bay window is that it’s also the mouth of the cannibalistic safehouse. No one mows the lawn on that side of the house and comes back alive…