It was destined to become an urban legend. Maybe it was the matter-of-fact way the two girls invariably crashed even the most secretly held parties, barged their way to the kitchen, where they sliced themselves one piece of cake each, and then, instead of nibbling the tasty dessert, proceeded to rub their faces in it. Afterwards they fled, leaving a fog of bemusement behind. The continued evening of wine and what remained of the cake resulted in the wildest speculations as to what this all could have been about. A Duncan-Heinz publicity stunt? An over-baked post hypnotic suggestion? Last survivors of a flash mob decimated by starvation? The new cult of Marie Antoinette? Some suggested they must be possessed by demons not diabolic but diabetic.
No one knew.
In a related incident which was never connected with the relevant pre-occurring event, an officer in a top secret military installation tested the new satellite night-vision zoom technique. He watched mystified as two ladies in the new moon darkness of a park tenderly licked cake from each other's face.
Story #407
Thanks for the stories! And of course more are welcome! Anyone landing here is invited to leave a story, caption or impressions as a comment...
Postscript: Some random surfing led me to this extremely delicious photo by Donavan
23 comments:
Es muy curiosa la fotografia pero no la comprendo del todo porque aún no he aprendido suficiente ingles, espero que en el proximo blog te pueda ofrecer un comentario más brillante, de todas formas, quiero que sepas que me gusta mucho.
www.antoniolarrosa.com
We all knew that one day, there would evolve a mold resistant to preservatives.
Treasured memories, of that day as children they wandered the fair grounds, were dancing in their heads. They laughed and discussed. There was that one strange moment when the hypnotist played that trick. They both knew he never got them to "go under" but everybody else swears he had them asleep with just saying one word. What was that word again they both mused..? And at almost the same time, they both exclaimed
"OH! It was...."
Barbara and michelin took the two respective plates of pastry and without eating it started to cry.
(Flashback)
Barbara, michelin ,rob and chris always wanted to know what was going on next door. they knew a new scientist had come to live in their neighbourhood. But with all those strange noise they just cant keep their curiosity stopping from bubbling. Saturday evening was the D-Day they had planned to somehow sneak into his house.
Through the back window they made into his room. A small room lead to a bigger one completely dark. They found a switch somewhere and orf bright light filled the room only to make them drop their jaws with surprise.
With all those chemicals and strange devices around they felt they were in some other world.
They found two pistol like devices their. Barbara and michelin picked up one each. "Lets play cops and thieves. You are the thief and we chase u." Saying this they pointed the devices towards rob and chris. "NOOOOOOOOOO00 " a loud voice echoed the room. But alas it was two late as two pastries fell from nearly 5 foot each to ground!!!!!
It was just their luck Vickie and Therese found the birthday cake at the open house. For the two cute guys, Dave and Jeff, wanted to go out dancing with them. And since they did not have enough touch-up makeup to freshen up, and there was little time before someone would come into the kitchen, they did what two desperate women will do...
Cookie tells me there are people who can connect with their relatives via intermediaries hovering on plates. George pretends he's never heard of an intermediary in said location just so Cookie will get upset. Felix believes there should be a law against all forms of hovering because it ruins the wind / human dynamic, even if said humans manage to grab said plates. Bessy will eat anything that hovers, once she's caught it. Margaret says that's OK, so long as nobody gets hurt. Which is a good thing, I suppose.
Nope... your diamond earing is not in this piece.
"now let us bow our heads in thanks for this scrumptious, fattening, overly-sugary, cream-topped blessing"
It was Sunday morning, Mary and Christina were making their weekly offering to the god of gluttony.
As they shoved their faces in the angel food cake you could hear them slurping up the frosting.
Ahhh, ummmm, mmmmm! they mumbled as they crammed the cake in... It was holy.
Ha! I am answering comments. That means I already wrote my story - even if it is somewhat light.
Antonia: Yes, it's a strange photo, and what were they thinking? I wish my Spanish was better than it is. Maybe someday soon I'll improve it.
Doug: This could have changed the entire ending of "Great Expectations" (I'm thinking of the decades old wedding cake)
Happy LOL Day: Wonderful story! And I didn't see your reference to hypnotism before writing it.
Sandy: Your story was so imaginative! Yes - stay away from mad scientist neighbors! Reminds me in a way of "Reanimator"
Kevin: That explains why some women I see look like cupcakes. I never liked overdone makeup, but I'd mind it less if it tasted like cake.
Stan: That's cool! I will eat cake, even if it's hovering, and without spiritual prodding. But nobody in germany bakes cakes the way I like them.
Awannabe: Your caption made me laugh! It's hard to top something that says it all in one sentence. That's probably what happened, too.
Fances: You sound like the priestess in Vince's story! Give me scrumtious fattening, etc. cake. I want it now - but cake culture in Germany is much different, so no one bakes cakes the way I like them. Sometimes I bake cupcakes, with butter/milk/powedered sugar icing I make myself.
Vince: Amen! And now please turn to page 28 in your hymn book: "That Old Bethlehem Bakery"
*paging through hymnal*
Sweeter than pie and pastry,
that cake from the Bethlehem bakery
I never will miss
that heavenly bliss,
of them old Bethlehem cakes
O that old Bethlehem bakery,
that old Bethlehem bakery,
that old Bethlehem bakery,
where cake is sweet as pie...
Sorry. Got a little carried away.
Funny thing, I wrote that short story and sent it to Indie. He told me he liked it and to post it. Then I came here and saw Frances's post. Is that synchronicity or what? Maybe we're all gluttons at heart? What do you think?
I think it was just a miracle. Speaking in tongues and the like.
I think someone should write a story using the validation words you have to type in to make a comment here.
That's what I've been doing all this time - you're the first to notice.
I think I got the song text wrong. It should be:
I ever will miss
that heavenly bliss,
of them old Bethlehem cakes
That last part is sexy, lol. It looks like lemon cake, yummy, I wish I could have some.
Sorry I didn't write this time, I might still do if I can think of something real qiuck.
Later, Kevin. :D
The old man’s hooded eyes barely seemed open as he looked down at the photo of two teenaged girls smashing their faces into slices of birthday cake. He tapped the picture and said, “Snuck up on them for this one, but they heard me coming. Yep, last picture of the girls we have.”
The reporter glanced at the picture. “That’s the picture the FBI used?”
The old man nodded. Sighed. “Lotta good it did them. Change their hair color. Use a different color of icing and all youse got is a headline —.”
“The Icing Twins Strike Again!” The reporter said, as if he were announcing late-breaking news.
“Most successful bank robbers ever. Never been caught. Never heard from them once they began their life of crime.” He looked down at the picture again. His hand trembled. “Broke her mother’s heart.”
The reporter consulted his notes. “Debbie and Ellie swore they were twins even though they had different parents?”
“They had a connection. It ran between them strong. You ever have a dog and an electric fence?” The old man didn’t wait for the reporter to answer, but continued on, warming to his subject, “it was like that, a line of electricity between them that warned everyone away as if they might get shocked if they got too close. We figured it was just teenaged lesbo stuff.”
The reporter cleared his throat. “Yes, well, according to reports Debbie and Ellie finished each other’s sentences, had the same gestures and facial tics, and made the same impulsive decisions.”
“Yep, they sure did. They got tired of people saying, ‘But you don’t look anything alike.’ It made ‘em angry. ‘Nobody sees us,’ our Ellie said. It was then they decided to never have their pictures taken.
“Why do you think they started their life of crime?”
“If I knew that, mister, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here in my pajamas talkin’ to you. Oh sure, maybe we shoulda told Ellie she was adopted, but how was we to know Debbie was adopted, too.” The old man set the picture down and twisted his arthritic hands together, agitated. “What are the chances of them endin’ up in the same neighborhood? Plenty of folks is adopted and they don’t rob banks!”
“Hmm, do you think Ellie and Debbie are lovers?”
The old man struggled to his feet. “What kind of a sick sonabitch are you? That’d be incest.”
He showed the reporter to the door, and went over to the mantle to raise a picture he’d lowered just before the reporter arrived. He smiled down at the photo of Debbie and Ellie with their children, each with their face smashed down in birthday cake.”
Quick hide it's that photographer again. "iftsntjd" came the reply.
Hair as bright as day,
With the other dark as night.
They both wanted to play,
And covered their faces with white.
Starting a cake fight with themselves,
They dodged each other's moves.
Cake covering the kitchen floor and shelves,
Their mother came in with a bad mood.
Mom vigorously angry with her daughters,
She immediately told them to stop.
The girls calmed down with laughter,
While their mother brought them a mop.
"Clean up this mess!" mom screamed,
They quickly wiped the floor clean.
But mom was hiding some ice cream,
And restarted the fight with the flavor of apple green.
Take care Indie. :D
*x-files music*
maybe we all really are connected by a thread of thought. or by the trails of crumbs from cakes we weren't meant to eat... mmm... chocolate...
("jkdqbo!" she cried to the sky as the last piece of frosting fell from her plate, never to reach her yearning lips.)
Belinda and Irene wanted to maintain their girlish figures. But the cheesecake was so tempting. They thought that if they rubbed it on their mouths they could taste it without absorbing the calories. They wanted it more than sex, more than fame. They were torn. It was terrible. Were they not above gorging on cake?
They went to Yam Man's Self Actualization Workshop, where they discovered their Inner Fatty, and decided to heed the words of Marie Antoinette, who said it was perfectly all right for them to eat cake.
On Rilke:
I'm sure it is Indie, but somehow it still appeals to me - for now at least. I would be grateful if you could venture into a translation which would better convey its ummph in tone. So glad to have your thoughful comments always - no wonder, hehe, you've been regaled with the 'thoughful blogger' award.
:) what is the saying, great minds.. think alike. sounds so snobby LOL - but thats the saying!
Sandra: Thanks for that brilliant story! So much depth, I don't know where to begin. I hope you repost this at your site too - it shouldn't just disappear in the comments section.
Grocer: I have that effect on people when I go around with the camera.
Mavin: Thanks for the verses! I kept thinking of Jamie (jamiesmindlessblather.blogspot.com) while reading it. Really funny too!
Frances: We are.
Cheesemeister: I want to lead that workshop - maybe I could fill in for Yam Man one time?
Happy LOL Day: I feel complimented, seeing what your mind does.
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