Blackforest Cake Stories.

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The movie you’re about to watch is based on a true story. All characters and events are real.

The birthday cake was calling me last night. It was saying, ‘eat me, eat me, eat me, eat me’, to the tune of that song, ‘do me, do me, do me, do me’.

I was just sitting there watching a movie at around 11.16pm, everyone was asleep. At first I ignored the call.  But it went on calling, “ah do me, do me, do me, do me, do me, do me, do me”  The champagne I had drank wasn’t helping, in fact, it was providing the background riddims. Ooo-wee!

So anyway, after a while, a very short, fleeting while, the cake got impatient, so I responded. I had too. I ballet-ed rather hastily, clumsily to the kitchen, lights still off. Opened the fridge door and swooned with my R. Kelly voice, “I hear you calliiiing…here I am baby…to eaaaat youuuuu”  pulling that last ‘uuuu’ sound as I pointed at the now smiling Black Forest. Standing on one leg, ballet-style, I almost lost my balance, so pushed my finger, into the cake. Oops, sorry, I whispered to the cake. Licked my finger. Ooo-wee.

I heard foot steps. I froze in that position. Nothing. Silence all over the house. Good.



Side plate,

ME:         “Keki?”

CAKE:     “Eh?“

ME:         “Kuja hapa!”

CAKE:     “Sawa Mpenz”

Speed is of essence. Now working like a good mechanic. Not Dago

One big-ish slice. Add another, also big-ish.

Sneak out of kitchen. Hit the sofa, forget the fork, knife

Grab and bite.

Smile. Bliss.

The Cake: A small piece is still in the fridge, but to avoid grievous bodily harm, best avoid it. Oh But For The Love Of