In the City of Loafington, there lived a superhero named Wonderbread.
Wonderbread was, predictably, a superhero with bread-themed powers. He could beat up a gang with a baguette, trap someone in a giant pita, or cushion someone’s fall with swiftly-rising dough. He was beloved by all in the city, for his escapades had the lovely side-effect of feeding the entire city for a week. He would keep the city free of crime and malice by driving around in his Breadmobile.
Our hero had his enemies and allies, of course. Chief among his enemies was a man simply known as Dr. Cobra. Dr. Cobra and his pet snake strove to sow the seeds of discord in Loafington, and he came up with elaborate plot after elaborate plot, that was always foiled by Wonderbread. And Wonderbread counted among his allies, the brilliant Yeastboy, a child prodigy who had volunteered to act as his sidekick. Yeastboy’s real name was Hunter Godwin, though the press didn’t know that.
On one particular day, Dr. Cobra had infiltrated the city’s water supply, intending to use his venom to give everyone a terrible stomachache. Our heroes leaped into the Breadmobile and raced to the scene, driving at a breakneck pace.
When they arrived, their first enemy was Dr. Cobra’s pet snake. A towering beast, far larger than any normal snake, it swayed and slithered, ready to strike if they got any closer.
“I know,” said Yeastboy, who threw a couple of buns forwards. “That’ll distract him!”
The snake seemed… unimpressed.
“No, Hunter,” Wonderbread said, applying the wisdom of years. “This is how you fight snakes.”
And Wonderbread clapped his hands together, and summoned indian flatbread to fall from the sky. The snake glanced up, and immediately slithered to eat at the bread.
“Wha- how did you know?” Wonderbread asked.
“The anconda don’t want naan unless you’ve got buns, Hunter,” he nodded sagely. “Now hurry, Dr. Cobra is getting away!”
They leaped into the Breadmobile, chasing down the Doctor. However, with their vehicle driving so quickly, any and all of the dough and bread and pastry they fired at the doctor couldn’t possibly hit him, instead flying backwards as a tasty treat for some citizen.
“What do we do?” screamed Hunter.
“I have a plan. It’s… not something I would normally consider, but I don’t think I have a choice,” Wonderbread said, stepping down harder on the accelerator.
“You’re not gonna… ram him, are you?” Hunter asked.
“That’s right,” he said, solemnly, as if he too were afraid of the implication. “I’m going to brake bread with the enemy.”