The apple bundt cake was heavy, partly from the glass pan, partly from the five gala apples that went into the 13″ x 9″ dish, and partly from the ton of awesome contained within the pecans.  I was hailed as a hero for unlocking the taste of apple and using cinnamon and nutmeg in something besides a pumpkin pie.  I’ve been entered into the running for a Nobel Peace Prize as the recipe may stop wars and I keep getting called by Time Magazine.  A statue is being erected in my honor and the part of my desk that held the tray holding the cake has been cordoned off with velvet rope as hallowed ground.

I picked up my phone to casually call Mrs. “homemade is boxed cake mix plus a tin of frosting” and tension mounted as the phone rang.  I hit the magic 5 rings and heard “I won’t be in today… prattle prattle prattle”.  Slam went the phone receiver as I saw the last piece of cake disappear in a cloud of salivating coworker and when the dust cleared I saw the clock: only 55 minutes had elapsed from arrival in work to first coworker discovering the cake to it being totally consumed.  I’m lucky my rival wasn’t in, as I wouldn’t want to appear to be gloating by summoning her to an empty dish… I need to save that for the actual competition.  She may be prepared for battle, I will win as I’m preparing for war.