Addler was not quite certain why hoomans called good things a heaven. Heaven was blue and white and sometimes even rainy. Regardless, he had heard the expression often enough to ponder whether this could be one. He had never seen so many waffles anywhere in his life! He had lived long, too, at least all the pawfuls! It was a mountain of waffles, and more were appearing all the time, like magic!
He sniffed around in case this was Matshan’s doing — when things appeared out of nowhere, it often was — but could smell just the waffles, and various critter scents, and more waffles! He waddled closer to the waffle shower. Closer. Clooooooser.
When one dropped on his head he finally believed they were real. He took a bite, then another. Then another. Three waffles later he remembered to look around in case there were any potential waffle treasure owners glaring at him, but nope. He was alone. Alone with a mountain of waffles!
Five more waffles later he felt his tummy rounding up from the golden treasure, and he plopped down, letting the waffles rain on him. The world was golden and squareish and delicious smelling. He felt fuzzy-headed and after a little while flopped backwards, letting the waffles half-bury him. World was wonderful. Waffles were wonderful. Perhaps… perhaps world was a waffle. Yes. In his sugar-induced higher meditative state, this felt like the most profound truth of all time.
World is delicious and intoxicating and fulfilling and sometimes exhausting.
World is a waffle.