Adam just stared at Mikey. He was pretty sure pie-sex was entirely hypothetical, in that Mikey had suggested he needed to stop sexing it. Mikey had started this shit! "It doesn't have a mouth. How can it consent?" Adam asked. If the pie suddenly sprouted a mouth or began speaking from orifices unknown, Adam was going to flee back to his room and hide under the bed until morning. Or just never eat pie again.
Adam was decorating with the whipped cream. It needed to be arty, on top of his pie. That was delightful. "Ahh well. I didn't figure you would. Trifle is very important. I won't tell it it was the back up choice to the jello." Which was gross, so he was glad Mikey had changed his mind.
"Aren't we all?" Adam asked, like he was going to become philosophical. "What shall we do to keep him from our pie?" Adam asked, looking at Mikey very seriously and finishing up his whipped cream art.