Gemotions

Her cheeks hurt from the effort to suppress her laughter. Her article, the one she had poured her heart into, was credited to “Barnaby Buttercup”. She giggled. This was going to be fun.

First, a quick search for the email address listed in the journal. Then, a series of increasingly bizarre automated emails, each more nonsensical than the last, going out to the editor at regular intervals. He added animated gifs of dancing cats.

She ordered a dozen cakes, each decorated with the journal's logo. She had them delivered anonymously. She bounced on the balls of her feet with delight.