Wednesday, 6 February 2013

The Darker Side to Cherry Bakewells

As soon as I found out that Dee had stolen my cherry bakewells I knew that I would have to let her go. I didn’t like firing people – it was the hardest, most heart-wrenching part of my job – but some individuals leave you with no choice and bring the misery upon themselves. Many people still ask me how I knew it was Dee who had stolen the cherry bakewells and I must admit that it makes for a fine anecdote. I can’t begin to count the number of cocktail parties and dinners at which I have told the story but it’s certainly one for the grandchildren.

It was the winter of 2007; perfectly pleasant for many but for me it was nothing short of a winter of discontent. I loved my cherry bakewells. They were my heart and soul. Something to keep me going at work. Something to go home to. Ultimately, they made up a large part of my life but they were vanishing like hot cakes and when a large part of your life starts vanishing like hot cakes, then action must be taken.

All I knew was that some good for nothing bastard was sneaking into my office when I was off pleasuring Mandy (the office slut) for lunch and stealing the bakewells. It drove me wild. It drove me crazy. It made me want to staple post-it notes to Charlie’s balding head. All things equal, I knew I had to do something about it so I spent every Sunday for six weeks inventing a cherry bakewell that would make those who consumed it glow in the dark.

Once I had completed the glow in the dark cherry bakewell, I planted it in the top drawer of my office desk and went off to pleasure Tina (the office sycophant) for lunch. When I returned the cherry bakewell was gone so I closed all the blinds in the office and switched off the lights. My employees were a little bemused at first but it was nothing compared to the shock they had when they saw that Dee was glowing from head to toe.

So, it was Dee! And frankly, it didn’t surprise me. She had put on at least ten pounds in the preceding weeks. To be perfectly honest, I should have guessed and it would have saved me a lot of time. I’ll never get those Sundays back. Regardless, I pounced on her like a fat man pounces on a free buffet and took her down. The ensuing events are not important other than the fact that Dee admitted to stealing the cherry bakewells and was sent to the nearest shop to purchase ten party-size packets. I fired her within a week and she’s now out of a job in what is undoubtedly a horrendous economic climate. She’ll never find another job. I’d never have thought it before but it seems there really is a darker side to cherry bakewells.

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