Q: Is the red velvet cake taste sour?

A: You're still having some problems with the language. I assume you mean "Does the red velvet cake taste sour?"

Yes. Yes it does. I'm no chef, or food critic, or culinary expert of any kind, but I can guess why the red velvet cake tastes sour. Because, instead of two eggs, you used two scoops of sour cream. It was a hilarious mix-up. You, all panicked and hysterical, unable to find the eggs and substituting sour cream in the hope that no one would notice; me, all tense and agitated, my future in-laws waiting for their favorite dessert.

But that's not the only reason the cake "taste sour." You also used sour cream instead of butter. And you used sour cream instead of buttermilk. And you used sour cream instead of flour. Each subsequent mix-up less hilarious than the last. By the end, your red velvet cake was nothing but a pile of sour cream doused with red food coloring. You fooled no one.

Perhaps you noticed that. Perhaps you noticed when my future mother-in-law shouted, "Dear God, what is that thing?' and my future father-in-law vomited on the table at the first whiff and my fiance began to cry and then pushed me away when I tried to console her and then slapped me when I tried to defend your behavior and then screamed at me for "harboring an idiot man-child who uses his foreign birth as an excuse to torment those he claims to love." Her words not mine. Perhaps you noticed the departure of my fiance and her parents. Perhaps you noticed when she threw her engagement ring at my face. Or perhaps you noticed nothing. Perhaps you were too busy making a suit of armor out of a phone book and doing the Dance of Joy.

Don't "Cousin Larry" me. I have a name. My name is Larry. I'm not even sure we're cousins.  Call me fucking Larry.

No. No. Just Larry.

Just Larry.

Larry. Only say the word Larry.

Good. Thank you.

It is not time for the Dance of Joy.

Seriously. No.

I'll have you deported.

I'm not being ridiculous. You're the one who is being ridiculous.