my kingdom for a horse

Evening at the Chateau De Healy.
The noble Heelers enters the kitchen stage left in search of croissants.
He espies a bag of ye aforementioned croissants on the table.
He reaches for the bag and withdraws a croissant.
He stares.
The ends have been bitten off the croissant.
The mighty Heelers withdraws another croissant.
He jumps.
This too has had the ends bitten off it.
The finest mind of a generation withdraws the third and final croissant.
As expected the croissant has been serially bitten on both ends.
Heelers' gentle preraphaelite features go a bit gothic for a moment.
"Those bloody kids," he snarls. "They're taking the croissants out of the bag, biting them, and then putting them back in the wrapping."
The Mammy looks up from her crossword.
"It wasn't the kids," sez she mildly. "It was me."