As I have made abundantly and belligerently clear, I made some fucking amazing, fandangtastic, scrumbumdiddlyumptious cookies for the Holiday Bake-Off 2007 cookie contest.
I secured tins for these mightily addicting concoctions of absolute sweetness, one each per judging location. I carefully wrapped my cookies, if such a meager word can be used in the description of my creations, in layers of wax paper so that they would travel securely and arrive uncrumbed. I sealed the tins with packing tape, so that they would not dry out and stalefy while in angel's flight to their sweet princes and princesses of judgery.
I made one critical error in this process. I took them to a store with which I have a somewhat troubled history. One of the brothers of indeterminate number was a former employee of this shipping and packing establishment. This may have had something to do with the events that happened next.
I paid for a detailed packing job with involving bubble wrap and a box to convey my cookies, if such an ordinary word can be used in the description of my creations. The unfortunate events happened after I paid a high price for security and shipping and left the store. Somehow, a "miscommunication" and a "misunderstanding" lead my tins of cookies to be wrapped in a paper bag, labeled, and shipped. This faulty, insufficient, and EXPENSIVE label tore off during shipment. The packages were sent back to the store whence they came and I was notified over the Christianic Holy Weekend of Saturnalia of this "MISTAKE".
I exclaimed with a clamor!
How could this be? I prepared with such rigor!
On the day I arrived in the store to inquire after the packages I had hoped would be enshrined on the judges' mantles, I met two employees. Two employees who were having a lovely day eating my cookies, if such an insignificant word can be used in the description of my creations. THEY WERE EATING MY FUCKING COOKIES. They were eating my fucking cookies. They were eating the cookies over which I had slaved and slaved. They were eating the carefully written messages of hope! They were eating my good tidings! They were eating my in jokes! They were eating my cobagz! They were eating my fucking cookies!
I retained a leash upon my temper and did not succumb to the temptation to burn the building to the ground and salt the earth upon which it stood. I asked them why they had opened my pakcage and begun eating the contents. They said that they had found them on the counter and thought the tins were gifts for having to work the day after the holy day. I called the manager and she flew down with a dash. We exchanged unpleasantries and harsh words. I am ashamed to admit that at one point I implied physical violence after she admitted that she might have had something to do with the faulty packing job. An offhand comment to a new employee resulted in the completely worthless paper bag packing job.
In the end, I was refunded the money that I spent on the packing ($60). The manager gave me a song and dance about the shipping fees and how the store was not a franchise, it was a corporate location and she could not offer refunds for the shipping in this situation. She also said that since I had not insured the packages that she was not liable for her employees eating them. I was apoplectic with rage and told her to, "eat a steaming pile of dogshit" and gave her a suggestion as to where she could find some. Then I left.*
I was enraged!
I was infuriated!
I left the store in a huff,
I let loose a mighty bellow!
I was sad!
I was mad!
I wanted to run in the buff,
I was indeed not mellow!
The truly disappointing part was that my cookies will never be tasted by judges and declared without doubt the winners for all time, all universes, and all realities. I was able to bring some to my other brother's, of indeterminate number, house for consumption by his family and my aunt. They all thought they were amazing and extremely impressed. My brother's mother in law, a grandmother, asked if I had used beer in the recipe, but if I had she didn't mind because they were excellent. My aunt, another grandmother, also said that these cookies were wonderful and was surprised that I had produced a cookie, if such a boring word can be used in the description of my creations, of such quality.
Since both of these women are grandmothers and since everyone agrees that grandma made the best cookies, I feel safe in declaring myself the Winner In Absentia of the Holiday Bake-Off 2007.
You need to ask yourself:
What Would Tucker Do?
Chuckles, I feel for your loss greatly, as your loss was also my loss. Your entry would have been appreciated to a poetic amount, and the judging would have been extremely generous. Fucking tool asshole cobags. Utterly unacceptable. I only wish those were the decoy cookies laced with laxatives.
You see, your cookies had come under the Doom of Mandos for various reasons.
Unfortunately, I was not able to cast my shadow over the Midwest.
I wouldn't bother competing next year if I were you. The Doom of Mandos may* still be in effect.
seriously, if I walked into a store and saw those counter-jockey douches eating my cookies ... dear sweet lord the simmering rage would have boiled out into I don't know what.
The fact that you did not spend even a single night in jail reflects greatly on your restraint.
Keep your ability to stay restrained in mind when you start getting pissed at Guitar Hero. The desire to crush the guitar can become overwhelming sometimes.
Yeah, um good story. Whatever. Stalefy? A word? I think not. I look forward to judging your entry this year, if you feel up to it.
VON, I don't know if you are equipped to judge my entry.
And how "equipped" should one be to judge your entry? Do tell...
If you have to ask...
I think the fact that the store peeps were eating your cookies is a sign that there was some industrial espionage going on there - your competitors were intimidated and no doubt shelled out some substantial cash to see you eliminated. I'm sorry for your loss.
Having said that, I know I wasn't part of the competition, but I do make a damn fine and tasty cookie myself, not to mention other forms of treats such as my Suicide-By-Chocolate brownies. I'm going to have to challenge thee someday.
the grandmothers have spoken - congrats Chuckles!
Jenny, you ARE a fine and tasty cookie.
missy&chrissy, I am glad that at least you understand how significant that is.
Is this back to that conversation when you thought I was a guy??
No. I would not say such things if I thought that. I'm straight despite what happened with teh l4m3 last year. I WAS DRUNK.
There and Bake Again wins best post title of all time.
I don't even know what I would've done in your situation, but it wouldn't have been pretty.
Original typo title of the post:
There and Baked Again...
Slightly different meaning.
Long may Chuckles rule as the Winner In Absentia of the Holiday Bake-Off 2007.
I hate to say it, but I'm almost glad it happened. This post was worth it. Still, I somehow think my life would have been different... would have taken on new meaning, had I been able to taste Chuckles' cookies...if such a meager word can be used in the description of his creations!
Heh heh. One wonders what flavor, though. :P
I used to be possessor of the official Proverbial Cookie as well, which the Pretentious Bastard bestowed upon me one day at lunch. It crumbled before I had the chance to varnish it and pass it along. SIgh.
Maybe you should bake up another batch of wonders and do that with them - make them prizes to people who do good or something.
I might bake some more, but where can a guy find baby's breath on such short notice? And I mean a real baby's breath, not some stupid flower. There is also the matter of the sacrificial velociraptors and we all know how hard those are to find these days, aside from the ones at the Creationist's Museum.
I would have been on Cops and those clowns would have needed a proctologist to get the cookies out.
I am sorry your entry was crushed before it had a chance to be officially crushed.
Torrents of rage were nearly unleashed in California by me for just, merely, reading this posts.
Also, if you had, and I think you did, send them via UPS, they should have been automatically insured for $100. It, however, is insufficient to cover the loss.
You got the better end of it.
Post a Comment