We make a gingerbread house every year, but this year was a fiasco. Somehow the gingerbread turned out thick and puffy1, and the glue-icing wasn't gluey enough. I briefly got everything assembled, but then the house toppled, and no amount of jury-rigging would fix it. So...
The gals improvised, using the front of the house as a "movie set facade" and arranging the gingerbread men in a sort of old-time western shootout. Note the Twizzler railroad tracks, and my favorite detail, the sparkly red sugar-blood streaming from the victim.
Lemons into lemonade.
1 I blame the seventies-and-humid weather we were having when Sarah made the dough.