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A year of slavery
Where Twisted Things Live
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| A year of slavery |
| 06.26.04 (9:23 am) [edit] |
(continued)
And so begins my year of toil and oppression.
Spud demanded cookies immediately. I tried to hold off his demands, pleading that it was thirty degrees above outside and I don't have air conditioning in the house. It's way to hot to start the oven.
Upon hearing this lame excuse, he actually called Grossberger over to us and told him that I had something I wanted him to know. I made up some bogus compliment about how I thought he was a good dancer or something. Relief washed through me as I saw that my statement had pleased him and he walked away.
Wiping the nervous sweat from my brow, my heart sank and I knew that Spud meant business. I had no choice but to comply since I obviously couldn't alert the authorities.
I told a select few people, who I could count on to keep my dirty little secret, but that was more because I wanted to be sure that if anything ever happened to me...If I "disappeared", someone would know of my situation and have a clue as to what happened to me.
So, with a shred of hope lingering in the back of my mind, I fired up the oven when I got home. And oh, what wonders I did bake. Cookies, perfect and warm. Little did I know that these cookies apparanty held some sort of magical, addictive quality. I tasted one...then two...then five...They were so good that I took a dozen cookies from the batch and kept them for myself.
The next day I presented the pay off to Spud. He must have sensed my guilt since I could not look him in the eye, knowing what I had done. "Is this all?" He asked me. I made up some feeble excuse about burning a batch and having to throw them out. He seemed disappointed but, thankfully, my answer satisfied his curiosity and he went away.
I went back to my life happy and optimistic. Little did I know that this was only the beginning. It wasn't long before Spud was at my desk informing me that the cookies didn't have enough chocolate chips in them. He told me that I was to try again. My eyes welled with tears as I offered the fact that chocolate chips were expensive and I wanted to give him a big batch, but I didn't have enough chippits, so I had to skimp. He smiled craftily at me and said, "Okay fine. We'll take care of that."
The next day when I arrived at work, there were two bags of chippits on my desk.
Once again, I was forced to bake him cookies. I made a huge batch and used up all of the chocolate chips. I baked for hours. But as I worked, I couldn't stop eating those warm, moist, chocolatey cookies as they came out of the oven. I have no idea how many I ate, but I do know that I was not feeling very well by the time I was done. I filled two bread bags and a ziplock bag with cookies. I thought that would satisfy him at last.
Spud liked the cookies. No, he loved them. They were done the way he wanted them this time. The huge amount of cookies that I had baked him lasted a couple of weeks...but then I would find more chocolate chips. This continued for months, until....
Spud got transfered to the shop in Regina. I thought finally the tyrany was over. Finally I would be free!!! His parting was bitter sweet since he is my friend and we work good together. At the same time, I was looking forward to not being required to produce baking in order to keep the peace. I would finally be able to relax and quit worrying.
I was never more wrong.
Continued later.....
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posted by: care (reply)
post date: 06.26.04 (10:51 pm)
speaking of dirty little secrets....
we suspect that you are seeing someone...
spill
spill
spill
or you shall be cursed... with... uncontrollable hair!!! MWAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA>>.. FOREVER TANGLES>>>> well...
at least until you brush it...
or condition it...
*sigh*...
I gotta work on my curses...
posted by: Marko (reply)
post date: 06.26.04 (11:09 pm)
Day-um. What's a guy gotta do to get free cookies, yo?
posted by: care (reply)
post date: 06.27.04 (11:03 am)
Reply to: Marko
Harrass her... thassall... pending on what kind you want... if you want kick ass macaroons then you must harrass cory, if you want chocolate chip, then perhaps you should harrass for a 'sample' first off... see if they are actually as good as she 'claims' them to be...
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