What exactly are the ingredients in this thing?

I knew I should have been concerned when the sign said "Bake Sale of Doom," but my curiosity often gets the better of me. I just had to know what was so doomish about it. What from far away had looked to be chocolate cupcakes with red frosting were in fact small lumps of sulfurous-smelling coal whose tops were smoldering. It was a nice sort of heat, warm and friendly, like you could cup it in your hands to warm them up. My hands were warm enough as it was, so I moved on down the table.

The oatmeal writhing maggot cookies were easy enough to identify, but the ones with dark grey lumps that seemed to be screeching faintly were a novelty. I asked the friendly-looking lady with the giant ram's horns, and was informed that were made with chips of damned souls. Apparently, this gave them a unique tang. Last were the rice krispie squares, which had peanut butter topping, clearly marking them as pure evil. Since it was for a good cause, I decided to buy half a dozen of the damned cookies to take home.

It was at this point that Kung-Fu Jesus struck. He came screaming from behind me, overturning the table like he is wont to do, and condemning the bake sale for its usurious prices. He and the nice lady went at it faster than mortal eyes can see, battling each other across the wall with flying jump kicks. I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and took shelter behind the overturned table.

After a minute or two of this, I got bored, and felt that something needed to be done. Scrabbling around on the floor, I found a toppled sign proclaiming that the proceeds of all sales went to the Hell Scouts of Infernia. Peeking up behind the table, I point at the sign and shouted, "Of course it's overpriced! It's a charity, you fool!" Despite barely showing my head, I managed to catch a good heel to the noggin.

When I came to a bit later, Jesus was leaning over me and apologizing profusely. He'd left his contact lenses at Mary Magdalene's place, and he was having trouble reading from far away. He had totally missed the sign. Everything was just a big misunderstanding. He laid hands on my head, bought all the cookies by way of apology, and gave me a dozen of the soul-chip ones I had been intending to buy, to compensate me for my troubles. Still, I think I'm going to avoid bake sales for a while…