As the Pie sat in in the refrigerator, the top crust (of the crumbly "dutch pea gravel" type) allowed the marionberries to spread sloooooo-o--o-o-wly outward into the gap left by the eaten pieces. The crust slid with it. Somehow it did not make the pie any noticably flatter.
Nobody else in her house liked Pie, and the guests had departed insisting that Pie would be inconvenient in their hotel.
Thus the pie was ALL HERS, and it appeared to be never ending.
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Pie all gone?
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