Writer's Block

Bob kept looking at the doughnut and prodding it suspiciously with his pen.
"I swear, the damn thing moved!".
Frank lowered his newspaper slightly and peered anxiously over.
"Not again, Bob. I thought you were past all that business with the Bakery Boyz", he said.
Bob ignored him and kept poking the doughnut.
"Honestly, one bad experience with an explosive bagel..."
Poke, prod...
"Well, and I suppose the cockroach eclair..."
Jab, nudge...
"Not to forget the razor blades in that granary loaf...hmmm"
Frank took out his own pen and started prodding the doughnut.
"Best to be safe, I guess..."
They carried on prodding the doughnut, blithely unaware of the strange looks they were getting from the other diners. The doughnut itself seemed largely unconcerned by the whole ordeal, despite its dented appearance.
Then, after a particularly savage poke by Frank, it rebelled, sending twin gobs of jam directly into his eyes. As he flailed around searching for his napkin, his coffee was sent flying into Bob's lap, causing Bob to jump up and knock himself out on the low-hanging light. Frank stumbled off towards the bathroom, dabbing his face with the napkin and trying vainly to extricate a pip.

The doughnut rested on the table, bruised but victorious.