Tagged: cake

Whatever His Faults

  • by Kenttouch the cake with their filthy hands
  • ran out of urine
  • — all those beautiful bullfrogs
  • “If you wanna eat ‘em, ya gotta listen to ‘em first.”
  • giggling as he tempts fate

Tune in next time part 840      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Whatever his faults — and they were many — Chad was a skilled argumentarian and I was quickly backed into a corner trying to justify my decree. We struck a compromise whereby I pretended that what I’d meant all along was a cake in the shape of the zeppelin, not the literal airship itself. The mothers were disappointed in me (and not for the first time).

Fleur sent Chad away to direct the preparation of this scaled-down prize. The devious look on his face as he accepted this task made me uncomfortable. Contrarian confectionery is its own kink, and I cringed at the idea that any bakers on this vessel were going to touch the cake with their filthy hands. The flavor might be palatable assuming they ran out of urine. There would of course be an algae-clogged pond in the kitchen where the frogs — all those beautiful bullfrogs — would serenade the vile pastry chefs. They have a saying: “If you wanna eat ’em, you gotta listen to ’em first.”

And worst of all, the decorator, whose job would be to create a convincing likeness of the Royal Contrarian Airship out of buttercream and fondant. I could just see the madman, giggling as he temps fate with some outlandish improvised coloring additive.

With the prize defined, all that remained was the actual declaration of the winner. Fleur was, of course, still looking archly at me.

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“And, Also Under Lunar Law”

  • by Kentthe mouthfeel is different
  • didn’t specify whether I wanted the inside or the outside of the cake
  • not even real words
  • wiped them, and put them on again
  • looked me straight in the eye and said, “No.”

Tune in next time part 766      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“And, also under Lunar law,” Zeus Pamplemousse went on, “we must perform the confectionery ceremony.” He must have planned all of this well in advance, because otherwise on top of all the other weird things about him he was turning out to be a dude who goes around with a wedding cake in one of his velvet cloak’s inner pockets.

“You had a wedding cake this whole time?” I blurted.

He shook his head. “This is moon pie. It resembles wedding cake in many ways, but the mouthfeel is different. Not that that’s important to the ceremony.” And with that, he grabbed a handful of moon pie and smushed it in Tessa’s face. “Your turn,” he said blandly.

Tessa snatched up her own handful of pastry. Quick as she was, by the time she got it to his face he’d donned a set of goggles. He chuckled, licking icing off his own face. “That didn’t count, because I didn’t specify whether I wanted the inside or the outside of the cake to touch my skin.”

“You never said anything about that,” Tessa complained. “I didn’t specify either.”

“In Lunar society, only the groom can declare such a preference.”

Tessa seized more moon pie in both fists and pummeled Pamplemousse while grunting savagely. Her feelings on this matter came through even though the sounds were not even real words. When she stopped, Pamplemousse removed the goggles, wiped them, and put them on again.

“Alright,” I interjected, “the confectionery ceremony is a done deal. Can we go now?”

Zeus Pamplemousse looked me straight in the eye and said, “No.”

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