Cupcake disaster

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“Hmmm,” she said, licking her lips. In her hand she held the ultimate disaster. It was a weapon which could bring me to my knees, quite literally.
“Why on earth would you even do that to me?” I asked while the saliva ran down my chin and dropped to the floor where it caused a flood amongst the mite population. They would pay me back by causing a massive hayfever attack later that week.
“Because I can, but mostly because you left the Missing Word hanging in the air and to be sure it would have been one of my finest moments. Tit for tat and all of that, dear.”
“I explained that I wanted to have something the readers could look forward to, once Bikinis and triple fudge sundaes was published. I even sent you a memo!”
“I do read my e-mails dear. I have thousands of fans after all and they all need a piece of me. There is a lot of me, you know,” the muse said as she patted her round stomach, “lots for everyone.”  She looked at me and took her time  licking the chocolate icing off the cupcake she was holding.
The offending thing was moist and light and heavenly. I knew this from experience. The chocolate icing looked creamy and was covered in shavings of dark and white chocolate. The worst thing of all was that it was a jumbo sized cupcake. And in the middle, I knew, would be a soft fudge filling.
“Please, please take it away,”  I begged, but she had no intention of doing anything of the kind.
“Fancy a bite, dear?” the Muse asked innocently.
The words I uttered were not fit for civilized conversation.
“I am a type 2 diabetic,” I said through clenched teeth. “Memo!” I shouted.
“No need to shout, dear, I am not deaf yet you know and besides, it’s punishment for the Missing Word, as I said.” She looked longingly at the cupcake and back at me.
I stubbornly refused to look at her or the cupcake. I was fed up, for the past few weeks I had been reading food labels and everything had sugar in it. I had already tested gravity twice this week. It was embarrassing to say the least. I went down like a log and nobody yelled, “Timberrrr.”
Each time it happened I said, “Don’t worry, just testing gravity and jup it still works, the planet is safe!” My other go to excuse was, “Dropped my contact lense and did you know that this particular tile was cracked, just checking up and letting you know.”
After all the prodding and poking the doctor put me through, I deserved the damn cupcake.
“All gone,” she smirked as she gathered the last crumb with her  tongue.
I clenched my fists in frustration. The bloody nerve of the woman, I thought, but perhaps she had done me a favour as the offending cupcake was carrying a charge of sugar, which would have sent me on a floor expedition.
I still haven’t gotten used to the idea yet and miss my chocolates with a passion. As I pass them in the aisles, I am filled with longing. My blood is now just blood and not chocolate, how sad is that!

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5 responses »

  1. Brilliant! Love it… And feel your pain! Wish your muse could too! 🙂 maybe her turn is coming… What goes around comes around., and all that!

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