Word to the wise: never bake a chocolate peanut butter cake on an empty stomach. I made the mistake of doing so for a party tonight in celebration of Mozart's birthday (sure, it sounds dorky, but it's gonna be really cool, I promise) and I just pulled the pans out of the oven and the heavenly chocolatey aroma wafting through my apartment right now is making me want to devour the entire cake like that scene from "Matilda" when Ms. Trunchbull made that fat kid Bruce eat a whole chocolate cake. Ha, ha, Bruce, what a loser; his cake didn't even have peanut butter cream cheese frosting with a chocolate peanut butter glaze.
My stomach just made a noise reminiscent of a dog whining to go out. Seriously. I'm so close to eating that whole thing, carbs and Mozart be damned.