"That muffin held my entire career in its hands, and you just dumped half of it in the trash." “That’s an awfully pathetic career if its fate relies on a baked good.” “You—you—” He patiently waits, yet I only respond with an intensely delivered "Muffin man.” Instead of falling to my knees in fear, this guy turns to walk away with his hands in his pockets before having the audacity to mumble, “Welcome to New York,” under his breath. I am certain he does not believe in magic.
