Guide to flipping houses made of candy, cake or gingerbread

Guide to flipping houses made of candy, cake or gingerbread
Guide to flipping houses made of candy cake or gingerbread

There’s a lot of money to be made in candy, cake, gingerbread and other sugary houses, but there’s also considerable risk.

As you may know, my sister and I almost got cooked in the oven but we ended up burning the witch to ashes, taking her house and selling it for a huge profit.

But today’s witches have gotten smart. It’s not as easy as it used to be to trick them into getting in the oven or signing over the deed to their house. It can be done though, if you take a few simple precautions.

Here’s our guide to help you get started and avoid common missteps

How do I Find a House Made of Candy or Cake?

Unfortunately, there is only one way to find out if a house is made of food — eating it. A lot of houses look like gingerbread houses, especially in the San Francisco area, but when you go up and bite into them, you find they are made of wood, or worse, stucco. Spit that stuff out. Do not swallow conventional building materials — they are extremely hazardous.

Being a real estate investor is hard. It involves knocking on a lot of doors, following a lot of blind leads, and chewing on a lot of brass doorknobs thinking they might be butterscotch. But stick with it. On the day you are about to give up, you’ll bite into what looks like a metal gutter on a contemporary ranch house in Simi Valley, and you’ll taste something incredibly sweet. Do you know what that is — that’s the sweet taste of pure profit.

Should I leave a trail of bread crumbs?

Breadcrumb trails are picturesque but harmful to gluten intolerant birds and squirrels — just use Google maps.

What do I do when the witch invites me in?

As a realtor, you might already be familiar with the subtle technique of letting your client think they are the boss, while all the time sneakily manipulating the whole process of finding them a house. So do the same thing with the witch when she invites you in. Act innocent and naive, let her lead you inside, and then let her imprison you in a cage. But remember, this is all part of your plan — you’re just letting her think she’s in control.

What if I’m already fat enough to eat? Won’t she cook me right away?

Sorry, you cannot be overweight. Realtors should be thin and well groomed. This whole gig only works if the witch thinks she’s got to feed you for a few weeks and fatten you up before she eats you. So hit the gym and go Keto — or you might end up on a plate.

How do I get the witch to climb in the oven?

This is the real tricky part — she’s not going to fall for the “please demonstrate what you mean by getting in the oven.” That ship has sailed. You’ll have to slip her a mickey — here’s a Chinese web site where you can order it. Once she’s drugged, just lift her up and put her in the oven.

Where will I find the treasure?

It might be buried underneath the property. We recommend bulldozing the entire candy house. You can’t resell a house made of food, anyhow. It’s not earthquake, tornado or even rainproof — and it violates so many building codes. You’re looking at a complete teardown property. You can then build yourself a McMansion, perhaps in the same style with some candy or cake motifs to recall the little adventure you had purchasing the property — and by purchasing I mean murdering its owner and stealing it from her.

What if my evil step-mom doesn’t die while I’m away in the forest?

Hey, we’re good realtors. But we can’t solve all your problems. Good luck!

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