There’s a bakery in the East Village with a line of people around the block in wait for the a dessert so unprecedented it earned its own name. At the front of the line you’ll meet Creampuff, the large, bearded, tattooed, bouncer that will let you inside, one at a time. You can’t cut the line, you couldn’t bribe him if you were dying, and you certainly can’t make him laugh. He’s a legend, and the people love him. No one has ever crossed Creampuff – until now.
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