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Help! I Ate A Gingerbread Man Voodoo Doll  And Now I’m Dying!

I guess you could say I brought this on myself with my holiday gluttony. I was so desperate to shove cookies down my gullet that I didn’t stop to think, “Hey, should I be suspicious of this gingerbread man decorated precisely in my image?” And now I am slowly but surely dying.

I should have known better, really. There were plenty of warning signs. At first, never eat food made by your mortal enemy. I recently pissed off my coworker Maria by taking credit for a project I barely helped with. My bad, clearly. So I really should have avoided the plate of cookies she brought to the Christmas party.

In addition, there was a pin stuck in gingerbread me’s stomach, coincidentally right where I was experiencing pangs of hunger. I didn’t worry about it though— I mean, there were toothpicks in the cheese too, but that’s not a voodoo doll for , right?

If I had just slowed down, taken a break from the sweets and eaten some celery or a handful of almonds, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. But no, I gobbled my cookie effigy up, and suddenly collapsed to the floor. I can feel the life draining from my body, and I’m sure I only have moments left to live, but with my dying breath I just want to say, “Damn you, Maria, way to be a drama queen!”

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