The War of Bread

Now, in these days, there were two great legions of bread, each assembled to champion a cause. To the east were the Sourdough Sovereign's troops mustered. They held the crucial pass of Yeastwardfarthingsheight, gateway to their homeland. To the northwest were the troops of the French Fuhrer, fewer in number but greater in vim and vigor, skill and strength. Each championed a cause. The Sourdough men were fighting for the right of all bread to rise free of its oppressors, while the Frenchbreadmen believed that bread should be able to choose its shape: flat or round. It came, tragically, to war; and on this day, the beleagured Sourdough Sovereign's fate would be shaped.

Each assembled in good order on the field of battle. Crumb-cannon were assembled and loaded, and the Rolling Cavalry readied for the charge. As civilized bread, the leaders of the armies met between them, seeking to one last time end the war without bloodshed. When Mssr. Perishing struck Mssr. Rhodes on the crust in a fit of pique, Mssr. Rhodes had to be physically restrained by his comrades from retaliating, and the meeting ended fruitlessly. The battle began minutes later.

The Rolling Cavalry began the battle, both sides sending forth their own to contend and seek to sweep around the enemy flanks. As they fought, smashing into one another and knocking great chunks of bread horribly to the dirt, the Doughboys proceeded at a trot, reading for melee. As they approached, each side's crumb-cannon fired a blast, knocking holes in the ranks; then they were in close combat, and the cannon ceased fire for fear of friendly casualties. The fight was brutal; the Doughboys tore great chunks off of one another, fighting to the last limb. It looked grim for the Frenchbread troops, outnumbered despite their valour; and then reinforcements arrived on the field. Titanic Gingerbread Men, five times the height of a common Doughboy, entered the fray from the Fuhrer's reserves, wreaking chaos wherever they went. The Sourdough cannon fired at them in vain. Their Sovereign shook from side to side, nearly dislodging his golden wrapper: "Oh, what a foolish muffin I have been! Where can he have gotten these monsters?"

The Sourdoughmen were forced back. Torn limb from limb (like Grendel), some of their number broke and ran, trampled down by tumbling Rolls as they fled. The Sourdough reinforcements arrived at last - great floating Poori balloons, dropping Boiling Curry onto the French legions. It seemed almost that the tide might have turned again - then the Gingerbread Men reached out and popped the balloons, and the rout continued.

The battle was won. From that day on, the right to choose - flat or risen - was essential to the people of Breadia. In the centuries to come, revolution and chaos would erase that feat - but for the generations it lasted, it was a symbol of freedom and justice.

And that's the story of Passover!