My brother’s fiancée asked my grandmother to bake an enormous wedding cake, then refused to pay her for it. So I decided to give the bride a wedding gift she would never forget.

She opened her mouth to argue, but I didn’t wait.

I turned away from the head table and walked toward the magnificent wedding cake.

Behind me, I heard Ashley’s heels striking the wooden floor.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

I reached the display cart and carefully released its wheel brake.“Hey! What are you doing?”

Without answering, I began pushing the four-tier cake away from its carefully arranged display.

Guests started turning in their chairs as Ashley hurried after me, her voice rising with every step.

“Stop! Put that cake back right now!”

I guided the cart across the dance floor, taking care not to damage a single sugar flower, and parked it beside my table.

Then I sat down, picked up a spoon, and looked directly at the furious bride.

“Well, Ashley,” I said pleasantly, “since I’m the one who paid for it, I thought I might as well enjoy my cake.”