Post by Milo Witte on Apr 25, 2011 20:35:18 GMT -8
"Naw," Milo replied. "I'm good. Just a little full, you know? Nothing I can't handle. Why, one time I had to eat a whole sheet cake myself, complete with butter cream frosting! See, my pal and I were at my little cousin's birthday party, and they were taking forever, absolutely forever to get to the cake. Says he to me, 'Bet you I can sneak a piece without them seein' me.' 'Course I didn't believe him. He was always chicken--usually, anyway. This seemed to be his turning point. Gordy went rogue from here on out, see. Got a bit wide, too, this way." He motioned in front of him with his hand.
"But anyway, this time, he decided with only a, 'Nope. Can't,' from me to go for it. So, he takes his hand like this, see? And he reaches way up and then--bam!" He clenched his raised fist together and brought it down with a smack into his palm. "He had that cake, and he shoved it in his mouth. No one noticed. He had it all over his hands, walked on through, snacking on it. No one noticed. He came back to me. But anyway, of course I had to try to do it, too. Got caught. Never had a slice for years.
"But annnnnnnnnyway, years down the road, we went to a carnival. Met a cute girl there. 'Course she thought I was 'orribly ugly, and when I went an' tried to kiss her, she....well, she--! But anyway.... Yeah.... Heh.... Last one, promise! So, we get to this carnival, wander in, and lo and behold, there's this cake-eating contest. Birthday cake, no less! Vanilla with buttercream. Same type of cake as at my cousin's all those years ago. Of course, Gordy, being the chubby, charming lad he is, has the bright idea of signing us up for said contest." He shook his head.
"So, we go up there, sign all the lovely waivers, and we sit in front of these sheet cakes. One each. First one to finish wins tickets to the Weird Sisters. 'Course we had to do this. Had to win. We sit up there cheering each other on, pumping each other up. Timer starts. We begin. Me, slow and steady. Him? He just ravished through it. Before you know it, he's a quarter of the way, a third, a half, little more. Then, BAM!" Again, his fist hit his palm, and he paused a moment for effect. "His head was in the middle of the cake--out cold!" He chuckled at the memory of the image.
"'Course, I had warmed up and was even ahead of him. I kept going, thinking he was just playing one of his jokes. Get just nearly to three quarters, and he still isn't moving. 'Gordy?' I said, shaking him. It had only been a few seconds, so paramedics hadn't even been called yet. 'Gordy?' Still nothing. 'Gordy?' Check for a pulse. There is one. Lift his head. Can't tell if he's breathing because of the cake up his nostrils. And he had these huge nostrils--just absolutely huge! But full of cake. Full of cake! And I have to clean them out. At least, I thought I did. I really didn't, see? Guess it wouldn't have made a difference in the long run. Where are the medics when you need them? Never there!"
He took a deep breath before going on. "But anyway!" he exclaimed, a finger up. "I had just stuck my finger up his nose when the medic came. 'What you doing, son?' he asked. 'Clearing out his--' He chuckled, a hand on my shoulder to stop me from going on. 'I know. Let the pros take care of this, eh?' I let him in. Buuuuuut long story short, I ended up winning. 'Course, I've never wanted cake since then, which sort of sucks. I watch people at birthday parties eating cake, and I say to myself, 'That sounds awesome! I'd like me a piece of cake.' Then, I get this awful feeling in my stomach. Kinda like what I feel now. Not exactly, though. This is a little better. Oh, and heh, look. It's the gates! Fancy that."
Sure enough, they were at the gates. And the guards were staring at them--or maybe him? Oh, awkward. "You know us...Professors here. Let us in, hmm?"