Bakery Baller; First Edition

     Nine A.M., Thursday morning: my annoying Android Rooster alarm blares me awake. I sluggishly roll over, thank the Man upstairs, and grab my phone. “It's Thursday...,” I say to myself, “time to do what I do best.”

     After a quick shower, I scour through my drawers, trying to find my least wrinkled shirt and jean combo. I gear up, preparing myself to fight my arch-nemesis, Midday Hunger, in the city of Hiram. I don my identity: a blue baseball cap embroidered with “Terrier Bakery” above its bill. I protect the appetites of weary college students, vigilantly watching for any possible blood sugar dips and serving justice to the distribution of artisan goods.

                                                          I am The Bakery Baller.