Walison thinks it's a different type of pretzel

Sighing, Walison and the "family" arrived at the pretzel museum. "She" and Alison's mother Hannah came in while the rest of the family was out on the curb figuring out how to tip the cab driver.

"Oh," Walison sighed as "she" looked at all the lye-soaked bread, "it's 'that' kind of pretzel...."

"What did you think it meant?" Hannah asked her.

"I thought it meant... this!" Walison whipped off all her clothes in the lobby and twisted herself into a pretzel like an advanced yogi.

"Alison!" Hannah chided her daughter, "What's gotten into you? And also, that looks like some advanced yoga! Where did you learn that?"