Lawls so Kat and I like came up with Idea over SKype at like 1AM
We were joking Hey lets make a story about bread... The Mighty Pound Cake, God of all Breads
SOOoo It evolved into this obscure little work :P
Enjoy!!!
Anna and Henry Lesniski were a jolly middle aged couple, who owned the quaint little bakery on Avon Street. People of all varieties walked by the colorful windows, that adorned the shop. Most of the time people would pass by with a curious glint, the same wanting looking as they gaze at the enticing display pasties. Usually people take a look, admire, and pass on by. But occasionally a customer comes wandering in. Often it’s an eager child pulling their mother in. Like this one child one who has been trying to persuade his mother to buy him a cupcake for the past ten minutes. Those blasted cupcakes, with their swirly frosting and vibrant colors, filling the souls of men with gluttony. The reluctant mother eventually gave way to her persistent child. Anna with a sweet smile reached into the display case. Her dainty hands caressing the chosen yellow frosted cupcake. She carefully and lovingly removed it place, being sure not to harm but a mere sprinkle. The child waited impatiently tapping from one foot to the other and swinging back and forth, awaiting his prize. Look at this it’s disgusting! Every greedy child who meanders into this shop begs for a cupcake. While I, Sourdough, have to sit in the reduced section with Rye bread.
“Hey man,” says Rye as swaggers back and forth “You have to try this stuff,”
“No,” I stated blatantly.
“But,” Rye persisted “it’s so good,”
A holler came from the other side of the cabinet “Yo, Rye Bread, no one gives a hoot about your crappy spices,”
“Hoot?” said a curious voice, clearly unimpressed with his poor vocabulary.
That was White Bread, she is surprisingly never impressed by the breads that we are supposed to slum within the reduced section. I used to be a part of the premiere breads, you know the breads that sit on display under pretty lights and are admired by all the lesser breads. Like Pumpernickel. I always know he is coming, because I can smell that whack-job from a mile away. He was on the other side of the display case but upon noticing me he conspicuously scooted over to my side and sat right next to me. I was greeted by his obscure, creepy giggle, that irks me to no end.
“H-hi,” he stuttered.
This is not happening to me. This is only a nightmare, a really bad one.
“You’re Sourdough right?”
“No, I am Wheat Bread,”
“What really?” he exclaimed, very shocked. He glanced around nervously over to the actual Wheat Bread “What?” he shook his head “There’s two of you?” he started fidget nervously “W-what? How did I not know?” he started rock back and forth “Wheat Bread!” he yelled “I am sorry for my impudence!” he wailed “I am unworthy!”
This cannot be happening to me. “Pumpernickel, I was kidding?” He stopped abruptly “You know my name?”
“Pumpernickel!” White Bread’s voice rang in the reduced section “What are you doing?” she snapped “You are disturbing the peace,”
Wheat Bread smirked “I like me an aggressive lady,”
To which White Bread merely rolled her eyes and sighed exasperated.
Pumpernickel piped up “I didn’t know there were two Wheat Breads,”
White Bread moaned “He, was kidding you idiot,” she indicated towards me “That’s Sourdough, note how he’s a different color,”
Pumpernickel awed “You are so smart White Bread,” he sighed “I wish I could be smart like you,”
“Yes, I’m genius, be quite,”
Pumpernickel was silent for rest of the day aside from a nervous laugh now and again. I watched other pastries being bought. A jelly stuffed donut with powder on top, for a large lady, and she wonders why she is so. A fancy éclair for this posh lawyer, he took it with delicacy and devoured it like an animal. Slurping out the cream first, looks like money isn’t the only thing he sucks, and then wolfing down the rest of the sweet. Then a very young and energetic woman walked in and bought a cake for her boss. I wonder what that is for, promotion perhaps. No one came in for the rest of the night. Anna and Henry bustled about to clean up shop, while Matt’s fast fingers clicked away at a cell phone.
“Matt, get off the phone,” said Anna from the back room.
“Why?” he asked annoyed.
“Because you should be mopping dear,”
Henry’s booming voice came from the oven room “Besides if you text any faster you’ll lose your fingers,”
Matt groaned and shoved his phone into back pocket. He then grabbed the mop mumbling obscenities to himself.
The baker and his family left a few minutes later and all was quiet for good while. That was until, the bass from the premiere’s bread box started to rattle the whole counter. Wheat Bread and Pumpernickel has their faces pressed against the glass to get a good look.
Wheat Bread cheered “Hey yall look!” He pointed “Its’ that foxy lady Banana Nut Bread,”
Pumpernickel let out a gasp before keeling over. Wheat Bread remained firm to his position, careful not to miss a single glimpse of the glorious Banana Nut Bread.
I remember those days, I remember those parties, I remember when I used throw those parties; I remember when Banana Nut Bread used to be my woman. Those were my glory days, Banana Nut by my side, the Lesser Breads gazing in awe. I used to be God, The God of all Breads. That until Pound Cake came, hot and steamy, fresh from the oven. I do not enjoy being replaced. I was usurped and my woman torn from me. I was permitted to stay with the Premiere Breads for a little while. That was until, Gingerbread, squealed on me. I can still recall his nervous and jittery voice.
“Youre not going stale are you?” he asked “Because if you’re going stale then you have to go. Those are rules. You have to follow them. That’s why they make rules. You’re supposed to follow them. Pound Cake follows all the rules.”
I kept my hardening crust a secret, told them it was normal for sourdough. But again that Gingerbread, he ratted me out to Pound Cake.
Pound Cake, the new Bread Deity, sat amongst his homies and had Banana Nut swooning at his side. She mouthed something, to what I do not know. But I think it would go something like this:
“Oh, Pound Cake, you’re so amazing, my mind explodes when I look at you?”
“Really?” he would reply “You seem fine to me,”
How that goofball stole my girl I’ll never know. If he had a brain cell it would be lonely.
Go figure, they partied past midnight and into the wee hours of morning. I feel like I only got five minutes of sleep before Henry flicked on the lights in the morning.
“Good morning pasties!” he swiped up a cupcake from the counter top and spun around with it.
“You are so perfect!” he cried cheerfully “Of course because I made you,” he placed the cupcake back down.
See? See what I mean, I told you cupcakes get all the love.
Just then Anna came in a gentle a smile on her face. Matt followed in with vacant expression. After Henry vanished into the back to finish his latest masterpiece, Anna came to the counter and started to fuss over the displays.
“Matt, help me move the pasties,”
“I don’t wanna,”
“Just do it dear,”
Matt moaned and pulled out a tray. Pound Cake was on that tray and that tray was being moved to our cabinet. This isn’t happening. Pound cake was placed into our zone. He and Banana Nut retreated to a nearby corner and cowered in fear.
Pumpernickel marveled “Is that r-really The Pound Cake?”
“Forget Pound Cake!” Yelled Wheat Bread, running “Banana Nut is here!” Wheat Bread dashed to the lovely Banana Nut, opened his mouth and remained silent, too stunned to even utter a word.
Banana Nut stared thoughtfully at Wheat Bread, then said something truly profound “We all become Lesser Breads one day,”
Pound Cake scooted away from Banana Nut “What!” he barked. “I will always be The Bread God,”
Another tray came in, carrying Cinnamon, Gingerbread, and Italian rolls. Once placed, the Premiere Breads united and huddled together in the back of the display case. I remained where I sat. Not caring. White Bread expressed irritation, Wheat Bread finally collects himself again, I am not sure if Rye Bread even noticed and Pumpernickel was bouncing about ready to make new friends. Then the “Mighty” Pound Cake proclaimed that there would be a dividing line. It was drawn in crumbs, the Lesser Breads, of course, got a smaller side, despite it being their case in the first place. Nothing really occurred for a while. I could hear the Premiere Breads chatting idly, about some mundane and worthless topic. From my spot I could see Pumpernickel quietly edging towards the Italian Rolls. He poked one and they responded in a ripple.
“That’s so cool!” he poked them again “t-that’s like really cool!”
The Italian Rolls cringed back in disgust “Ewww, hes crumbling on me!” one exclaimed, “Were gonna get all moldy!” cried another. “Excuse me!” snapped White Bread “Just because were ‘Lesser’ Breads doesn’t mean were moldy!”
Pound Cake snatched away one of the Italian Rolls and hid it away for safe keeping while shouting “Back I say!”
Pumpernickel reached out shakily “Is it really him?” contact was made “Pound Cake!” I swear I saw tears in his eyes.
Pound Cake leapt back abhorred and terrified. “I’ve been contaminated!” he squeaked like a little girl “ewww!”
White bread smacked the dazed Italian Rolls back into reality.
One asked “Were we just slapped by White Bread?”
“This is outrageous!”
“How dare you slap us!” another wailed.
Cinnamon rose enraged and tackled White Bread.
Wheat Bread, still doting over Banana Nut witnessed the attack on White Bread, and striking a heroic pose he said to Cinnamon Bread proclaimed “Oh, no you did not just hit my woman!”
“Your woman?” said White Bread fumbling to get up. Meanwhile Wheat Bread came charging at Cinnamon Bread. Too bad he tripped over “his woman" and smacked into Cinnamon Bread. The impact resulted into a full out brawl. Cinnamon Bread and Wheat Bread continued to fight, while the Italian Rolls ganged up on Pumpernickel.
Ginger Bread fell into a panic attack “What are you doing on this side!” he cried “we made a rule! You follow them. That’s why people make rules, so people can follow the rules,”
Rye waltzed over to Ginger Bread “Hey you should try some of this rye,”
Ginger Bread scampered to the corner and continued with his meltdown. Mean while Pound Cake used Banana Nut as a shield to the chaos.
“Save me!”
Banana Nut had her profound face on and said “The brawl of breads, all over a line of crumbs,”
Pound Cake shoved Banana Nut away “What are you talking about woman?”
Banana Nut did not even notice Pound Cake’s shun, she shouted “Customer!”
The Brawl came to a screeching halt as everyone scrambled to their places in the case. I didn’t even move.
A young red-cheeked boy with ginger hair came meandering through the door. Bright blue eyes surveyed the baked goods. On his feet worn shoes, on his clothes patches, in his hand he held a crinkled pound note.
Anna chimed “Morning dearie,” she leaned over the counter “What can I get for you?”
The small boy held up his pound note “What can get for one pound?”
Anna smiled warmly “That, dearie, is enough for a nice piece of bread,”
The boy’s babyish face lit up as she guided him to the choices he had.
“Any of these?” she asked.
The boy pondered “What are they called?”
“Well what do you feel like Dear? Would you like an Italian roll?”
“No,” replied shyly.
“Well how about some Banana Nut bread?”
The boy made a sour face “I hate bananas,”
Banana Nut almost twitched.
Anna continued to offer “How about some moist pound cake?”
“Maybe,”
“If not Pound Cake, how about some Sourdough?” she asked.
The boy went into deep thought. A few agonizing moments passed us by, each one longer than the one before. The breads waited nervously. Pound Cake and I exchanged challenging glances.
The boy decided.
“I want sourdough,”
The boy’s words rang like an angel’s chorus. Anna’s soft hands pulled me from the cabinet with gentle care. I felt like such a cupcake. She wrapped me tenderly in a white napkin and passed me to the excited boy. And so was defeated The Mighty Pound Cake, by a simple sourdough. The boy stared down at me with desirous eyes. He leaned down to take a chomp out of my half stale crust and all went black.
We were joking Hey lets make a story about bread... The Mighty Pound Cake, God of all Breads
SOOoo It evolved into this obscure little work :P
Enjoy!!!
Anna and Henry Lesniski were a jolly middle aged couple, who owned the quaint little bakery on Avon Street. People of all varieties walked by the colorful windows, that adorned the shop. Most of the time people would pass by with a curious glint, the same wanting looking as they gaze at the enticing display pasties. Usually people take a look, admire, and pass on by. But occasionally a customer comes wandering in. Often it’s an eager child pulling their mother in. Like this one child one who has been trying to persuade his mother to buy him a cupcake for the past ten minutes. Those blasted cupcakes, with their swirly frosting and vibrant colors, filling the souls of men with gluttony. The reluctant mother eventually gave way to her persistent child. Anna with a sweet smile reached into the display case. Her dainty hands caressing the chosen yellow frosted cupcake. She carefully and lovingly removed it place, being sure not to harm but a mere sprinkle. The child waited impatiently tapping from one foot to the other and swinging back and forth, awaiting his prize. Look at this it’s disgusting! Every greedy child who meanders into this shop begs for a cupcake. While I, Sourdough, have to sit in the reduced section with Rye bread.
“Hey man,” says Rye as swaggers back and forth “You have to try this stuff,”
“No,” I stated blatantly.
“But,” Rye persisted “it’s so good,”
A holler came from the other side of the cabinet “Yo, Rye Bread, no one gives a hoot about your crappy spices,”
“Hoot?” said a curious voice, clearly unimpressed with his poor vocabulary.
That was White Bread, she is surprisingly never impressed by the breads that we are supposed to slum within the reduced section. I used to be a part of the premiere breads, you know the breads that sit on display under pretty lights and are admired by all the lesser breads. Like Pumpernickel. I always know he is coming, because I can smell that whack-job from a mile away. He was on the other side of the display case but upon noticing me he conspicuously scooted over to my side and sat right next to me. I was greeted by his obscure, creepy giggle, that irks me to no end.
“H-hi,” he stuttered.
This is not happening to me. This is only a nightmare, a really bad one.
“You’re Sourdough right?”
“No, I am Wheat Bread,”
“What really?” he exclaimed, very shocked. He glanced around nervously over to the actual Wheat Bread “What?” he shook his head “There’s two of you?” he started fidget nervously “W-what? How did I not know?” he started rock back and forth “Wheat Bread!” he yelled “I am sorry for my impudence!” he wailed “I am unworthy!”
This cannot be happening to me. “Pumpernickel, I was kidding?” He stopped abruptly “You know my name?”
“Pumpernickel!” White Bread’s voice rang in the reduced section “What are you doing?” she snapped “You are disturbing the peace,”
Wheat Bread smirked “I like me an aggressive lady,”
To which White Bread merely rolled her eyes and sighed exasperated.
Pumpernickel piped up “I didn’t know there were two Wheat Breads,”
White Bread moaned “He, was kidding you idiot,” she indicated towards me “That’s Sourdough, note how he’s a different color,”
Pumpernickel awed “You are so smart White Bread,” he sighed “I wish I could be smart like you,”
“Yes, I’m genius, be quite,”
Pumpernickel was silent for rest of the day aside from a nervous laugh now and again. I watched other pastries being bought. A jelly stuffed donut with powder on top, for a large lady, and she wonders why she is so. A fancy éclair for this posh lawyer, he took it with delicacy and devoured it like an animal. Slurping out the cream first, looks like money isn’t the only thing he sucks, and then wolfing down the rest of the sweet. Then a very young and energetic woman walked in and bought a cake for her boss. I wonder what that is for, promotion perhaps. No one came in for the rest of the night. Anna and Henry bustled about to clean up shop, while Matt’s fast fingers clicked away at a cell phone.
“Matt, get off the phone,” said Anna from the back room.
“Why?” he asked annoyed.
“Because you should be mopping dear,”
Henry’s booming voice came from the oven room “Besides if you text any faster you’ll lose your fingers,”
Matt groaned and shoved his phone into back pocket. He then grabbed the mop mumbling obscenities to himself.
The baker and his family left a few minutes later and all was quiet for good while. That was until, the bass from the premiere’s bread box started to rattle the whole counter. Wheat Bread and Pumpernickel has their faces pressed against the glass to get a good look.
Wheat Bread cheered “Hey yall look!” He pointed “Its’ that foxy lady Banana Nut Bread,”
Pumpernickel let out a gasp before keeling over. Wheat Bread remained firm to his position, careful not to miss a single glimpse of the glorious Banana Nut Bread.
I remember those days, I remember those parties, I remember when I used throw those parties; I remember when Banana Nut Bread used to be my woman. Those were my glory days, Banana Nut by my side, the Lesser Breads gazing in awe. I used to be God, The God of all Breads. That until Pound Cake came, hot and steamy, fresh from the oven. I do not enjoy being replaced. I was usurped and my woman torn from me. I was permitted to stay with the Premiere Breads for a little while. That was until, Gingerbread, squealed on me. I can still recall his nervous and jittery voice.
“Youre not going stale are you?” he asked “Because if you’re going stale then you have to go. Those are rules. You have to follow them. That’s why they make rules. You’re supposed to follow them. Pound Cake follows all the rules.”
I kept my hardening crust a secret, told them it was normal for sourdough. But again that Gingerbread, he ratted me out to Pound Cake.
Pound Cake, the new Bread Deity, sat amongst his homies and had Banana Nut swooning at his side. She mouthed something, to what I do not know. But I think it would go something like this:
“Oh, Pound Cake, you’re so amazing, my mind explodes when I look at you?”
“Really?” he would reply “You seem fine to me,”
How that goofball stole my girl I’ll never know. If he had a brain cell it would be lonely.
Go figure, they partied past midnight and into the wee hours of morning. I feel like I only got five minutes of sleep before Henry flicked on the lights in the morning.
“Good morning pasties!” he swiped up a cupcake from the counter top and spun around with it.
“You are so perfect!” he cried cheerfully “Of course because I made you,” he placed the cupcake back down.
See? See what I mean, I told you cupcakes get all the love.
Just then Anna came in a gentle a smile on her face. Matt followed in with vacant expression. After Henry vanished into the back to finish his latest masterpiece, Anna came to the counter and started to fuss over the displays.
“Matt, help me move the pasties,”
“I don’t wanna,”
“Just do it dear,”
Matt moaned and pulled out a tray. Pound Cake was on that tray and that tray was being moved to our cabinet. This isn’t happening. Pound cake was placed into our zone. He and Banana Nut retreated to a nearby corner and cowered in fear.
Pumpernickel marveled “Is that r-really The Pound Cake?”
“Forget Pound Cake!” Yelled Wheat Bread, running “Banana Nut is here!” Wheat Bread dashed to the lovely Banana Nut, opened his mouth and remained silent, too stunned to even utter a word.
Banana Nut stared thoughtfully at Wheat Bread, then said something truly profound “We all become Lesser Breads one day,”
Pound Cake scooted away from Banana Nut “What!” he barked. “I will always be The Bread God,”
Another tray came in, carrying Cinnamon, Gingerbread, and Italian rolls. Once placed, the Premiere Breads united and huddled together in the back of the display case. I remained where I sat. Not caring. White Bread expressed irritation, Wheat Bread finally collects himself again, I am not sure if Rye Bread even noticed and Pumpernickel was bouncing about ready to make new friends. Then the “Mighty” Pound Cake proclaimed that there would be a dividing line. It was drawn in crumbs, the Lesser Breads, of course, got a smaller side, despite it being their case in the first place. Nothing really occurred for a while. I could hear the Premiere Breads chatting idly, about some mundane and worthless topic. From my spot I could see Pumpernickel quietly edging towards the Italian Rolls. He poked one and they responded in a ripple.
“That’s so cool!” he poked them again “t-that’s like really cool!”
The Italian Rolls cringed back in disgust “Ewww, hes crumbling on me!” one exclaimed, “Were gonna get all moldy!” cried another. “Excuse me!” snapped White Bread “Just because were ‘Lesser’ Breads doesn’t mean were moldy!”
Pound Cake snatched away one of the Italian Rolls and hid it away for safe keeping while shouting “Back I say!”
Pumpernickel reached out shakily “Is it really him?” contact was made “Pound Cake!” I swear I saw tears in his eyes.
Pound Cake leapt back abhorred and terrified. “I’ve been contaminated!” he squeaked like a little girl “ewww!”
White bread smacked the dazed Italian Rolls back into reality.
One asked “Were we just slapped by White Bread?”
“This is outrageous!”
“How dare you slap us!” another wailed.
Cinnamon rose enraged and tackled White Bread.
Wheat Bread, still doting over Banana Nut witnessed the attack on White Bread, and striking a heroic pose he said to Cinnamon Bread proclaimed “Oh, no you did not just hit my woman!”
“Your woman?” said White Bread fumbling to get up. Meanwhile Wheat Bread came charging at Cinnamon Bread. Too bad he tripped over “his woman" and smacked into Cinnamon Bread. The impact resulted into a full out brawl. Cinnamon Bread and Wheat Bread continued to fight, while the Italian Rolls ganged up on Pumpernickel.
Ginger Bread fell into a panic attack “What are you doing on this side!” he cried “we made a rule! You follow them. That’s why people make rules, so people can follow the rules,”
Rye waltzed over to Ginger Bread “Hey you should try some of this rye,”
Ginger Bread scampered to the corner and continued with his meltdown. Mean while Pound Cake used Banana Nut as a shield to the chaos.
“Save me!”
Banana Nut had her profound face on and said “The brawl of breads, all over a line of crumbs,”
Pound Cake shoved Banana Nut away “What are you talking about woman?”
Banana Nut did not even notice Pound Cake’s shun, she shouted “Customer!”
The Brawl came to a screeching halt as everyone scrambled to their places in the case. I didn’t even move.
A young red-cheeked boy with ginger hair came meandering through the door. Bright blue eyes surveyed the baked goods. On his feet worn shoes, on his clothes patches, in his hand he held a crinkled pound note.
Anna chimed “Morning dearie,” she leaned over the counter “What can I get for you?”
The small boy held up his pound note “What can get for one pound?”
Anna smiled warmly “That, dearie, is enough for a nice piece of bread,”
The boy’s babyish face lit up as she guided him to the choices he had.
“Any of these?” she asked.
The boy pondered “What are they called?”
“Well what do you feel like Dear? Would you like an Italian roll?”
“No,” replied shyly.
“Well how about some Banana Nut bread?”
The boy made a sour face “I hate bananas,”
Banana Nut almost twitched.
Anna continued to offer “How about some moist pound cake?”
“Maybe,”
“If not Pound Cake, how about some Sourdough?” she asked.
The boy went into deep thought. A few agonizing moments passed us by, each one longer than the one before. The breads waited nervously. Pound Cake and I exchanged challenging glances.
The boy decided.
“I want sourdough,”
The boy’s words rang like an angel’s chorus. Anna’s soft hands pulled me from the cabinet with gentle care. I felt like such a cupcake. She wrapped me tenderly in a white napkin and passed me to the excited boy. And so was defeated The Mighty Pound Cake, by a simple sourdough. The boy stared down at me with desirous eyes. He leaned down to take a chomp out of my half stale crust and all went black.
