The Murderous Yorkshire Pudding

The thing about being a baked item is no-one expects you to have any feelings about anything because you are not sentient. You are created to be devoured. A little piece of chemistry, heated and served.

But what if this wasn't the case? What if the egg that made you had remnants of life, remnants of recognition that it almost, almost got to be a walking, clucking version of itself but it was thwarted in that? What if this memory spurred it into a flurry of bad feeling and intent, that actually made it mad? What if the egg became conscious in its new form, assisted by the crushed derm of the wheat grain and the stolen creaminess of the cow/goat/sheep/oat into becoming something more? What if the heat of the oven warmed the rage of its being transformed from its natural state, into a golden pudding to be smothered in gravy and served with roast beef, maybe some roast potatoes, some cauliflower cheese, some sprouts. Definitely peas. Carrots?

What if the alchemy that heat brings, taking rawness and liquid and with some sizzling fat and a hot pan, brings that batter to rise and grow and expand and harden into something that not only looks magnificent but is malevolent, a force for evil and retaliation, a killer?

You think this is unlikely, but this is my tale.

Puddings kill.

I was the one left over; the one too much. They should have served me up and eaten me, the fools. I was radiating enmity as soon as I was battered and once the oven embraced me in its intense hold, I was expanding into my most heinous form. I am no longer a food item - I am a brutal killer.

I wait for the fork to prick but I am left, disregarded. And so, I plot.

The night arrives and I creep from my place in the fridge.

I feel less hot now I've been made to chill out but it's a pudding-eat-pudding world.

And so I strike! Using my considerable girth from my creator's dutiful recipe following to smother the nose and mouth of my victim with golden loveliness.

Beware the murderous pudding!

***

366 words

You have D.J. Reddall to thank for this, another one of us Vocal writers who is embarking on the mission to write something every day in 2024:

A random comment, a seed is sown, a story produced.

I know, it's bonkers but I quite enjoyed writing it all the same. I mean, what if your food did turn on you?

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read it, please do leave a comment as I love interacting with my readers!

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