Cake and Talking
12 months ago my patrons received this not-quite Hallowe'en themed content. Now it is released for everyone.
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“Good Morning,” said the cake. “I would like to explain why you should not eat me.
“Firstly I am the world’s only talking cake...” The cake was interrupted by jeers. “Do not listen to those tarts and hobnobs. To honour them with the noble description of cake would be to shame all my ancestors from the first time wheat and honey and eggs were beaten together and dropped in the fire by your primitive ancestors. And to call the hoots and grunts they make talking debases the language beyond all reckoning.
“Secondly it would not be good for you! I mean look at you, it is obvious you should be down at the gym or out on the road, not standing by the cake stall planning to stuff your face. And not just the fact that I am composed mostly of sugar and fat! The chocolate is a consciousness-altering substance. I don’t mean to be rude but fairly obviously your consciousness is held together very loosely. A shoddily built mind! Drugs may cause it to lose all coherence.”
The cake seemed to draw breath which was strange as it was a cake, and did not have lungs. “And finally, imagine your own mental state. How can you live with yourself eating a cake that can talk to you? How will you...”
“How much for the chocolate cake?” you ask the witch running the cake stall.
“50p,” she says in a resigned voice. She does not seem to encourage questions. You buy it.
“Ah well,” says the cake. “At least it’s in a good cause. I may be destined to be eaten but I have made my contibrution to the church roof repair fund. It’s the least I could do.”
This post supported by, and originally published on, my Patreon where you can read many other fine works by me.
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“Firstly I am the world’s only talking cake...” The cake was interrupted by jeers. “Do not listen to those tarts and hobnobs. To honour them with the noble description of cake would be to shame all my ancestors from the first time wheat and honey and eggs were beaten together and dropped in the fire by your primitive ancestors. And to call the hoots and grunts they make talking debases the language beyond all reckoning.
“Secondly it would not be good for you! I mean look at you, it is obvious you should be down at the gym or out on the road, not standing by the cake stall planning to stuff your face. And not just the fact that I am composed mostly of sugar and fat! The chocolate is a consciousness-altering substance. I don’t mean to be rude but fairly obviously your consciousness is held together very loosely. A shoddily built mind! Drugs may cause it to lose all coherence.”
The cake seemed to draw breath which was strange as it was a cake, and did not have lungs. “And finally, imagine your own mental state. How can you live with yourself eating a cake that can talk to you? How will you...”
“How much for the chocolate cake?” you ask the witch running the cake stall.
“50p,” she says in a resigned voice. She does not seem to encourage questions. You buy it.
“Ah well,” says the cake. “At least it’s in a good cause. I may be destined to be eaten but I have made my contibrution to the church roof repair fund. It’s the least I could do.”
This post supported by, and originally published on, my Patreon where you can read many other fine works by me.
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