Joe and the Fruit Cake Curse

by Kristina Brown, Alan Dewar, Bob Dewar, David Dewar, Jeff Dewar, Cindy Fleming and Mary Lou Dewar

A long time ago, in a land called Applebottom, there lived a man named Joe. Joe lived with his dog and two pet birds in a shack in the middle of the forest.

Every day, Joe, Tweety, Petey and Bowser would head into the forest in search of delectable morsels to eat. One day, they came upon a most unexpected surprise. High above them, at the top of the tallest tree in all the forest, was a giant sloth, staring down at them.

The sloth was munching on a piece of Xmas cake which had been baked over an open camp fire. "Can it be that you are a chef?" asked Joe.
"Oh no!" replied the sloth. "I am an eater of cakes -- I taste them before they go on sale to the public."

"Do you mean to say," an incredulous Joe asked, "that every cake that is sold has been sampled by you or one in your line of work?"
"Well, no, not exactly," the sloth admitted. "You see, it's not precisely what one would call 'work,' per se..."

"Then," responded Joe, confused, "you sample cakes as a hobby?"
"Oh, heavens, no," said the sloth incredulously, "it's not fun at all -- hardly a hobby."
"Then what?" barked Joe. "Why sample cakes?"
"It's a curse," moaned the sloth. "Whenever a cake's made, a piece of it appears in a cake tester's hands, or mouth if no hands are available."
"Then why don't all cakes have big holes in them?"

"Have you never eaten a bundt cake or angel food cake?" snapped the sloth. "They are the types we truly dread!" As Joe and the sloth continued to debate the curse of the cake, Tweety, Petey and Bowser had wandered to the edge of the forest.

They realized that if they ran quickly, they would be able to get away from the sloth and Joe, and not have to taste the cakes or listen to the discussion about tasting them. They had all heard about the notorious fruit cake that had been baked in 1737 and given as a Christmas gift every Dec. 25th since then. They were sorry that Joe was probably going to be the next recipient of the dreaded cake, and decided that loyalty did have its limits. Every man (or creature) for himself!

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