Satan Bakes A Cake

Over the years, the East Tennessee Bake-Off Contest in Gray Station, Tennessee has brought the best out in all of us. This year was no exception. Though there was one little hitch. A rumor was passed around that Satan was planning to enter the contest.

"Can you confirm that?" asked Midge Farrel. "What are the odds of that happening?"

"It was all in a note passed around at St Andrews Methodist last Sunday," Mary Sweeney said. "It read "Satan is planning to enter this year's Bake-Off. Betsy Caldwell wrote the note and slipped it to Edith Powers who gave it to Pam Jay who gave it to Mildred Somerset who gave to Lilly Adams. And so on and so forth, until the whole of Sullivan County, Washington County and Greene County knew all about it. You could hear their knees knocking."

"Who started that rumor?" Clara Jenkins wanted to know. "That's the nastiest thing I've ever heard. It's a malicious lie. Everybody knows the Satan can't bake worth a dang."

"Don't be too sure," Myrtle Shank said. "I hear tell Satan makes a great cheesecake."

"Take that german chocolate cake over there. Think Satan baked that?" Clara said, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. "Ha! He couldn't touch that with his pitchfork. And even if Satan did bake that cake, I don't feel intimidated. I think my fudge mocha supreme will surpass anything Satan can whip up."

"Satan doesn't know his way around a kitchen," Pam Addley said. "He's more of pool-hall kind of a guy."

"Desserts can be tempting," Mildred Somerset said. "The Devil made chocolate. I suppose you know that, don't you? Chocolate's the devil calling out to you. I can't tell you how often I've been tempted to eat chocolate. And I can't resist. I got chocolate on the brain."

"Stop it, will you, Mildred?" Terry Akens chided. "You think we're stupid?"

That afternoon the tasting of the baked entries in the contest began. The judges, three discerning judges sampled the desserts. They smiled after each bite and occasionally made yummy sounds. One judge would point at a dessert, as though to signify approval. Another judge would get a sort of spaced-out look in his face, like something stunned him. Each judge held a napkin in their hand. A fork or spoon lifted to mouth-level. Lips pursed. Then the fork or spoon disappeared inside the judge's mouth.

If a judged murmured pleasantly that meant something. If eyebrows were scrunched up that meant something too. If eyes were rolled that could mean anything. Between bites and swallows the judges sipped peach iced tea.

The judges huddled under a dogwood tree, and after deliberation pronounced the winner was Lilly Adam's strawberry shortcake. Applause went up and a cheer that a mortal had defeated Satan. Mrs Adams received a standing ovation.

Not far off, only a few hundred yards away, hunched behind a mulberry bush, a stranger with a red face scowled. He let out a cry, a shrill and hideous sound, like an animal would make if wounded, and immediately sprang upon his black horse and road off.

Comments

[bob]

I know the 'old man' has a signature dish....
Deviled kidneys