Note the array of question marks. The birthday child would be forgiven for wondering if this were, indeed, a cake, a frosted hatbox, or large quantity of poison. One of my consultants thinks this was an attempt to depict Batman's arch enemy, the Riddler.

This mouse seems so dispirited by the prospect of turning three that she can't even drag herself across the cake to blow out the stupid candle. It is as if she were saying, "Oh, what's the point? Sooner or later, I'm going to find myself trapped in a dead-end job at some mouse-only accounting firm in Denver. If only this pink frosting were quicksand!"

The cake gives off an air of neglect. The icing appears to have wilted and died, while those perky alphabet letters are in a state of complete denial. No child should be exposed to this neurotic cake.

This cake is creepy because you can't tell whether it's looking at you or not. It also has unusually prominent ears for a dessert.

While there's a certain artistry about the way the baker has used industrial power cords to simulate licorice, this arachnid seems to have eaten too much candy—egged on by his frat-boy spider friends—and then regurgitated it.

At least this cake comes with narrative intrigue: How, exactly, was Dad to blame? By coating it with shoe polish? By gnawing off a corner? By running over it repeatedly with his SUV to drive the evil prehistoric spirits from it? We'll never know.