Lou's Cupcakery

Why is the government after a pastry chef's top secret recipes? Why was he sentenced to life in prison? Why are Pez dispensers, greeting-card stores, and 7-11 evil? Read this weird tale to find out!

Dear Better Business Bureau,

            It’s not that I don’t like baking, in fact I love it. I’d co-open my own ‘Cupcakery’ if society would allow it. Lou came up with the name one day when we were playing scrabble, and ever since, it’s grown on me. Lou’s my business partner. He used to be homeless. I found him living in a dumpster one day, so I invited him to stay with me for a while so he could clean himself up and maybe get a job, but when I had told him of my idea to open a bakery, he loved it, and that’s when he came up with the name, ‘Cupcakery’.  

            Unfortunately they wouldn’t let me co-open because of Lou. They claimed he, ‘wasn’t a real person’, that, ‘it can’t legally be a business partner’ because, ‘mannequins aren’t real people’. How ridiculous, if he wasn’t a real person, how could he come up with the name, let alone play scrabble? I think they just didn’t like my cupcakes, and how could they not like my cupcakes? That’s what doesn’t make sense, because I’m the best damn cupcake baker I know of. Lou even said the same thing. I mean who else treats the muffin’s cousin the way I do? No one. No one else talks to them. If they do, theirs certainly don’t talk back, giving them ideas for future recipes, or making small talk.

            This wouldn’t be a normal bakery though. I would only sell my creations if I knew the person wouldn’t eat them, if I knew they had the same respect for them that I do, those would be the only people that I’d sell to. I’m not afraid to admit that I have attachment issues. I’ve never eaten one of my own, not once. How could I? They’re as much alive as you and I. That’d be like, murder, it’s just not right. How do I know I make the best cupcakes if I don’t eat them, they obviously tell me.

            What do I do with the ones I’ve created? A non-refrigerated cupcake has a shelf life of about two or so days. After that time has passed, they move on, just like anything else in life, nothing lasts forever, and I’ve come to terms with this sobering reality. When it’s their time I give them a proper burial. Some might think that it gets easier with time, it doesn’t. It actually grows more difficult with each goodbye.

            That didn’t keep me from doing what I loved, from what I was born to do. I know I was born to bake because they told me. I always had to close the shades, because I knew people were watching me, trying to steal my recipes. That’s not going to happen though, because even if they were to steal my recipes and copy them, their cupcakes wouldn’t be real cupcakes. Those thieves weren’t born to bake, like I was, they don’t have my gift.

            I’ve eaten cupcakes before, not real ones of course. Only I can create real ones, and like I said before, I don’t murder my own creations. If it were up to me I’d have all those 7-11 people arrested. They were always on the phone, talking about me, especially in the summer time, in the nice weather, they were always talking about me. They’ll never have the gift I possess, never. They could talk all they want but that wouldn’t help them, and in reality it just made them look like a bunch of jerks. So I tried to stay as far away from 7-11 as I could.


            The reason I’m writing this letter to you is because Lou was sick for a week so and I had decided to go to the greeting-card store to buy him a ‘get well soon’ card. I found the right card for Lou, after searching for an hour, but when I was at the register about to pay the guy, he tried to kill me. If Lou hadn’t taught me some self-defense, I don’t think I’d be alive right now. I’d saved his life from the dumpster and he’d saved mine from the greeting-card store clerk. That psychopath tried convincing me that with every purchase of a card that day, you’d get a free Pez dispenser. When he tried handing one to me I told him that Pez dispensers were evil conspiracies, and I judo chopped it right out of his hand, thank you Lou. I knew before, that the government was working with 7-11 to steal my recipes but now the greeting-card store, what next?     

            Anyways, when I got home from the card store something didn’t seem right in my house. The furniture was different, the walls were different, in fact everything was different. When I went into the kitchen to see if that was also different, I saw my next door neighbor, just standing there like nobodies business. I knew he was sent by 7-11 to find my recipes, which he never would have found anyways, considering I have them all memorized in case something like that happened, another idea of Lou’s.

            When my neighbor saw me he started freaking out. He tried using reverse psychology on me, yelling at me to get out of his house. Saying he was going to call the cops, but I knew that’s exactly what the government had trained him to do, in case he was ever in a situation like that one. When he ran towards me, I had no choice but to pull my .38 special, which I always kept on me because I knew the government was out to get me. I emptied all six rounds into him. He was definitely dead, and I knew that day, that the government would think twice before pulling something like that again.

            I called the cops, telling them the government was out to get me, and that I had just shot one of their agents in my house. When they got there, I was immediately thrown to the ground and hand cuffed. I should have known that the police were also involved in the conspiracy. Through all of their interrogations, not once did I give up my recipes. Although I found it strange that they never actually directly questioned me regarding my recipes. They used strange tactics, telling me I had broken into my neighbor’s house and murdered him. He was the one that had broken into my house. I knew they were just trying to break me, but it didn’t work.


           
            I kept asking them about Lou, where he was, if he were okay, what they had done to him, not once did they answer me. I assumed they had probably killed him because Lou wouldn’t go down without a fight, and he would never betray me, giving my recipes away.

            Fast forward three years, here I sit in prison, for not breaking. The government will never have my secrets. They tell me I’m in here for the rest of my life, and I’m fine with that as long as my recipes are safe. I’m contacting you in memory of Lou, I know that if he were alive, he’d want Cupcakery to be in business, and so I give you the name Cupcakery. However I won’t give my secrets away with it, just the name. You can call it, ‘Lou’s Cupcakery’.

                                  Sincerely,
                                         Stanley Winters       

Author's Note

Tell me what you think! =) thank you for reading.