A monstrous, deep-fried centipede with countless crispy, golden legs scurries up the side of a towering skyscraper made entirely of perfectly stacked waffles. Each step sends tiny crumbs cascading down onto the syrup-drenched streets below, where donut-shaped cars carefully navigate pools of melted butter. The creature’s antennae, made of curled bacon, twitch wildly as it surveys the neon honey-glazed skyline, its eyes gleaming like twin pools of bubbling maple syrup. Floating tater tot drones buzz around, capturing the moment as the city’s residents—a mix of sentient pastries and battered onion rings—watch in awe, wondering if this crunchy colossus comes in peace. DFC