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Ted pushed the two delightfully naked strippers off his lap and manoeuvred across the room to confront this elderly gatecrasher.
“Excuse me” Ted said in his sternest voice “May I ask who you are?”
“You may” replied the old man, grooming crumbs from his beard
After a short painful pause Ted prompted the old man who seemed to be falling asleep,
“Well, who are you then?”
“I am the one” the old man spluttered “Who made this wonderful cake for your party”
The old man motioned with a bony hand to his right where a elegantly crafted cake towered high above the sausages on sticks and salsa dips on the buffet table.
“Wow” gasped Ted “That’s beautiful!”
“Yes” nodded the old man
“What sort of cake is it?” questioned Ted in a hungry tone
“Cheesecake” replied the old man in a cold voice “But do not be deceived by it’s beautiful creamy exterior as the cake bears a terrible secret. A secret so foul that only the pure of heart are able to discover it.
Ted frowned at the old man before walking steadily over to the buffet table to face the cheesecake and attempt to reveal it’s terrible secret. He pulled a knife and one of those triangular cake cutter things from his belt and set to work. He began at the top with the knife and started to cut through the soft creamy icing and moist spongy filling. After a few seconds of carving the cake he was alarmed by a noise coming from the cake. “Ouch” it yelled “Stop that!”
“By God!” Ted exclaimed “the cake is alive!”
Now he understood what the crazy old cotton-wool-nosed man was talking about, the cake was evil and probably racist too. Ted slashed and gashed and mashed the cake with knives and fists and the little sharp cocktail sticks pulled from the party sausages. The cake kept screaming and yelping and bleeding and Ted was resilient in his attempt to flout the pleas of “stop” and “it’s hurting” from the malevolent cheesecake.
After the cutting, thrashing and screaming subsided and Ted dropped the triangular cake cutter thing and wiped a blob of frosting from his cheek. A slow clap was started and Ted, with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, wondered why everyone was being so patronising. He realised, however, what the kafuffle was about when a dead stripper fell from the cake with a glazed over look in her eyes, lacerations all over her body and several cocktail sticks jammed in her face.
Nope. Someone starts a sarcastic clap. As if to say "Oh that is so Ted."
Ah, the beautiful, beautiful imagery..
Still, it was an amusing story.
> the cake was evil and probably racist too.
Yay!