An impassioned plea:

Why must this bread taste like cake?

Bakers of earth, hear me! Stop making bread that tastes like cake! There is enough cake in this world. Leave the bread alone.

The bread has no voice to speak for itself, so I must be its representative on earth. The spokesman of the bread, giving voice to each kernel of wheaty goodness. If the bread was God, I would be the Metatron. And my rumbling voice would ring from the mountaintops: "No more cake-bread!"

Here ends the impassioned plea.