In a development that surprised no one who has ever opened an oven and found a cookie inside, the co-founder of a very popular cookie empire announced he has come to accept that he’s gay. The statement stepped out of the pantry, waved to the stand mixer, and asked Utah to change its setting from “whisper” to “we’ll be fine.”

He delivered the news like a recipe card: mix truth with courage, sift out shame, add two teaspoons of therapy, then bake in community until set at 350 degrees of kindness. The card noted substitutions: if kindness is unavailable, empathy can be used in equal measure.

Local congregations responded in the measured tone of a potluck grape salad: sweet, colorful, occasionally confusing. The bishopric reportedly called it a “soft launch,” while an aunt asked if this meant the family home evening would now include choreography.

Corporate flavor names spun like a cooling rack in a windstorm. Test batches included “CTR Chip,” “Ward Potluck Walnut,” and “Testimony Truffle,” with an eye on a limited run titled “Provo Pride Pinwheel” that looks straight until it turns around and insists on joy.

During the announcement, he paused for hydration and diplomacy, then adjusted his rainbow silicone spatula set with the flourish of a man who finally matched his interior lighting to his exterior décor. He explained that self-acceptance pairs well with warm milk, civil rights, and not pretending the frosting is a different color in public.

Missionaries reportedly pivoted their pitch to, “Have you heard the good news and also tried this cookie?” Early returns suggest door-to-door conversions increase 68% when accompanied by a soft-baked metaphor and a coupon code named after a hymn.

A family source said, “We love everyone equally, but not like that,” then crocheted the sentence onto a doily that immediately apologized. The Relief Society organized an emergency frosting circle, which is just group therapy with piping bags and better snacks.

Competitors quickly clarified their positions: one vowed to remain “vanilla-forward but inclusive of flavor,” while another rolled out a limited-edition Pride-themed cookie gift box that tastes suspiciously like finally exhaling. A third company promised neutrality and released a cookie that evaporates before forming an opinion.

Investors asked whether authenticity would impact margins, and the CFO presented a chart showing sincerity outperforming shame in twelve consecutive quarters. Supply chains confirmed adequate stocks of sprinkles, edible glitter, and legally distinct joy.

Meanwhile, theologians convened an emergency symposium titled “Doctrine & Doughnuts” where revelation was kneaded in a stand mixer until glossy. The conclusion: modern ovens come with timers and so do hearts, and both beep when the old rules are underbaked.

Culture warriors tried to boycott, but accidentally ate the evidence halfway through their statements. Commentators framed it as a slippery slope toward happiness, which, by an odd coincidence, is exactly the slope you want for sledding.

As for the man at the center, he thanked those who stayed, hugged those who left, and forgave the ones still reading the instructions upside down. He then reminded America that the point of a cookie is to be fully baked, not half-believed, and invited everyone to take a bite before the punchline cools.