Each morning in New York, a long human snake forms near a downtown bakery, den of an infamous hybrid food. The tragic folly that is the Cronut line endures even amidst steadily deteriorating weather as the endlessly- hyped pastry chimera slouches towards its first winter. The dastardly puppet master behind all this has even devised a cruelly beautiful scheme to wring yet more gold out of the hypnotized drones who rise at dawn’s break, queuing for hours to swell their cheeks with Cronuts.

Evil genius pastry chef Dominique Ansel recently birthed a gourmet coffee cart that will open before the bakery does, selling pricey hot beverages to those who wait hours in the cold for Cronuts, warming their bodies — if not their sad, dark hearts.

The key to the Cronuts’ fearsome reign is Ansel’s brutal enforcement of their scarcity. He could always order his eager minions to make more. But efficiently meeting demand would vaporize the sprawling lines that feed the pastry’s towering fame, and in turn Ansel’s brand, which allows him to sell other desserts and eventually, books.

He’s made a business decision that hype from Cronut scarcity is worth more than potential additional revenue from increasing Cronut supply. So how to make more money off Cronuts without making more Cronuts? Sell coffee to the frigid folks in line, a cup of which is made for pennies and fetches dollars. Evil. Genius.