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At the World Pastry Congress, The pastry equivalent of the United Nations, the delegates were in an uproar. The Grand Baklava banged his gavel repeatedly in an attempt to restore order. His fellow delegates were worried and upset. Foreign baked goods were pressing for inclusion into what had been an exclusive club for as long as anyone could remember.
The Big Muffin rose ponderously to his feet and denounced the new comers as “alien” “undocumented” and “not worthy” to take their place what had long been an exclusive organization. “We are pastry and we alone decide who is and who is not a member of this club.” The Great Cookie said much the same thing forgetting completely his own humble lineage as a flavorless European cracker. The Grand Donut was even more vehement in his denunciation of the “upstart riff-raff”. Saying, in effect, that all foreign baked goods should be rounded up and returned to their countries of origin “by force if necessary.” “They should,” in the words of a snarling bear claw, “wait their turn.”
The Lord High Danish was loudly booed when he reminded the assembled pastries of their foreign origins. “We were all once lonely local inventions. We should remember where we cam from.”
“You’re lucky to be here at all,” said the Chief Brownie. “You are little more than a fruity crust anyway. Where’s the skill?” The rivalry between brownies and danish had been going on for eons and the delegation was weary of it. The Grand Baklava banged his gavel to restore order.
“We need to make a list,” he said, “of those baked things we wish to exclude. Does anyone have such a list?”
“I would exclude all savory confections, anything without sugar or cream. Any baked goods from South of the border. Everything and anything Asian, Scandinavian, Middle Eastern, African or Jewish.” said the Chief Strudel. “I second that,” yelled the Supreme Eclair leaping to his feet. “Me too,” cried the Extreme Cream Puff who always parroted whatever the eclair said.
A hush fell over the room as the Napoleon walked slowly to the podium. He was an original and venerable member of the group and his words carried much authority. “Ha hmm” he said clearing the custard from his throat. “We should consider building a wall.” His custardy voice rolled like thunder through the hall. “A wall will keep the upstarts out for good. We don’t need anymore foreign confections telling us what’s good and what’s right.” The way he said “foreign” made every lesser cookie and tart tremble. Almost all of the other pastries nodded in ascent.
“What about those foreigners that are already here?” asked The Premiere Lemon Square.
“Send them back where they came from,” piped up the leader of the scones his Scottish accent reminding everyone of his recent arrival.
“We must secure our borders,” said the croissant, his French accent making his speech almost unintelligible to the English speaking crowd. “We are a country of laws, are we not? We must secure our borders before we are overrun.” At least that is what the other delegates think they heard. The Lord High Danish tried once again to remind the assembled pastries of their immigrant ancestry but was loudly booed. Unreasoning xenophobia once again prevailed.
Wesson - I have a question. If the World Pastry Congress is such a horrible, bigoted and racist organization, then why are the pastries so determined to bring everyone there?
micheledutcher - This is so current and right on topic that I copied the web address to post on my Facebook page. Thanks for bringing a little humor to this troubling political season. Michele Dutcher
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