Read a description of the whole thing here, from the lucky Browncoat who received this amazing edible recreation, and check out the pics here.

Continuing in their scheme to take over the world via herbs soaked in hot water, Adagio Teas has one for whatever side of the whole good/evil thing you're presently on.

Dr. Horrible's Tea of Evil: A tea as dark as the Dr.'s heart. This black tea is highlighted with berry blues and a hint of vanilla in honor of the frozen yogurt he shares with his love. May be served with or without sweatener. Honey makes a perfect compliment to this tea.

Captain Hammer's Corporate Tool tea: An over-the-top hero, like the Captain, needs a patriotic tea. But this black tea is over-the-top too with apple, caramel and cream. Think of it as a gooey apple pie for our hunky, cheesy hero!

There are also teas for Penny, Moist, Dollhouse's Echo, Dexter, assorted Buffy characters… all created by users in the Adagio community. I'm thinking there's probably some trademark infringement going on, but it's soothing and relaxing trademark infringement so what the hell.

Spotted at Whedonesque, these fan cakes are perfect for snacking while you're making evil plans, sharing with the homeless, or using as a delicious shield while thwarting evil plans. Mostly, they're just cool. Cake goggles? Amazing.

Adagio Teas has made a name for itself for their line of unique, quality loose teas (with convenient and easy-to-handle mesh pouches, so no paper tabs and strings to lose in your cup). And now they have a Firefly brew:

'Take my love, take my land, take me where I cannot stand. I don't care…' I've my tea! Inspired by the fabulous Joss Whedon's sci-fi show, this tea is a mixture of all things a gunslinging space cowboy (or girl) could want. The smoky kick of gunpowder, the elegant softness of mandarin oranges and just a hint of the wild, but sweet, side of life. A perfect brew for all the browncoats out there!

But they didn't stop there. There's also a Browncoat hat (green and yellow, with a star), an ice planet (non-edible, sorry) and plushie versions of our heroes (pictured). Only River and Kaylee (in jumpsuit and cake dress) pictured so far, but they advertise talking versions as well.

The 250+ recipes were either favorites of the cast or inspired by the show, which should make for some interesting eating. Profits from the book go to Freedom from Hunger. Some samples:

Spice up your shindigs and versify your kitchen!

"If we hear back from a life form in space today – whether NASA astronauts or a signal from some life form on Mars – we'll send up some Original Recipe Chicken," said KFC President Gregg Dedrick, quoted in a Reuters article.

Which opens up a greasy cardboard bucket of questions. How, exactly, will they do this? Has the KFC Corporation secretly been developing their own space program to enable geosynchronous takeout? What about the other franchises? Are we just now finding out about a frantic fast food space race? How far away are Happy Meal payloads? What happens when the delivery gets to ISS and the astronauts discover they forgot the potato wedges? And is this the first step towards marketing to extraterrestrials, or is this a subtle way to stop alien attacks by clogging invaders with cholesterol?

These are exciting times, my friends.

Like many middle-aged guys, I've long held the bone-deep conviction that no matter how out of shape I get, a couple weeks of pushups will get me back to a 32-inch waist. My pleasant delusions were recently shattered. On our last visit to Blue Springs a 'friend' snapped some shots of the kids swimming alongside what appeared to be a bull manatee wearing purple shorts. It took several expert witnesses and conclusive analysis by an independent lab before I'd admit that it might be me, but I was finally convinced.

I just don't see it unless I make the effort. In the bathroom mirror I may not be appealing, but I don't look huge. It's from the side that I show, much like a pregnant woman in her final trimester. If it's a boy, I'm going to name him 'Carl.'

But the real problem isn't my appearance, all evidence to the contrary. It's the health aspects. My recent cholesterol count would make a very respectable SAT score, and of late, I've noticed myself getting winded after negotiating high curbs. Changes must be made.

The Atkins Diet is in vogue again for those who believe that clearing out all those unhealthy fruits and grains and loading up on bacon, butter and prime rib is a good thing. That part's easy, but I have problems with the restriction against sweet tea. I can easily envision myself strapped down by orderlies, sweating and screaming about snakes and free refills.

Other diets recommend sensible portions and the elimination of rich, fatty foods, i.e. those with dangerously high levels of taste. But the difficulty lies in which foods to ban, a problem that plagues health experts from year to year.

Meat is bad for you, or it's good for you. Alcohol kills brain cells, but a glass of red wine a day is good for the heart. Margarine is better for you than butter, except when it's worse. Eggs are good for you. No, bad. Wait, good. Bad. Good, as long as they're cooked completely. And they prevent breast cancer!

Finally I devised my own diet, based on what I can handle. It's been carefully plotted for a reasonable weight loss over a long enough period of time, measured the same way they measure glacier movements. Feel free to use it yourself (ask your doctor or insurance agent before beginning any humor column diet).

8:00 a.m. Breakfast: soggy, wheat-laden cereal. Think really hard about exercising.

10:00 a.m. Arrive at work, jog up stairs, grab healthsome bottle of water. Feel smug.

10:30 a.m. Bathroom break, where I quietly chug the 2-liter bottle of Coca-Cola I've hidden inside the paper towel dispenser in the handicapped stall.

12:30 p.m. Lunch: dry turkey sandwich on real wheat bread (the kind with stalks), lettuce, tomato, three carrot sticks (w/leaves), water.

12:45 p.m. Helpless bout of self-loathing, followed by period of longing for a magic diet pill that lets you eat handfuls of cake.

3:30 p.m. Bathroom break. Five candy bars taped inside toilet tank.

6:00 p.m. Leave work. Wonder if the people begging for food at the stoplights get a decent return on the time invested.

7:00 p.m. The abomination we've diplomatically agreed to call 'Dinner.'

7:30 p.m. Walk the dogs. Fight the impulse to help them eat whatever they find by the road.

8:00 p.m. TV and light bitching.

11:30 p.m. Refrigerator visit after stomach growling wakes me up, results in angrier stomach since there's nothing in the house either of us is prepared to accept as food.

12:10 p.m. Lay in bed and stare at sleeping wife, think how much I want to stay healthy for her.

12:25 a.m. Eat an entire box of raw, low-fat macaroni noodles.

1:30 a.m. Sleep.

I don't like to brag, but so far I've been sticking to this every step of the way. Health awaits! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to visit the bathroom.