Behold, cake!

Another year, another cake break.

This thoroughly acceptable tradition occurs each year in aid of cancer relief. Famine relief would probably be tactless. Members of staff bring in cake and related confectionary products (a colleague does a very nice line in a sort of rice krispies/flapjack crossover based on melted Mars bars) and you can gorge yourself at a pound a slice, all money taken going to the cancerous.

Pontefract cake does not apply.

These pictures are taken before the gannets struck.

Some people may just buy off the shelf.

Others may have married someone who knows a secret Swedish chocolate cake recipe handed down from mother to daughter since the dawn of time.


The end result is the same. Bloated stomachs, faint nausea, several quid down the drain and still a feeling of having done right. It's a tough job, being charitable, but someone has to do it.