Status: Drabble
Gluttony
Greed
When you say you are a professional baker, people usually widen their sparkly eyes at you as their lips quiver into the purest of pleasures. Especially children. After all, cakes are one of the few things in this life that can make you high without risking a couple - or more - years as someone's pet in jail. Sure, there's DIABETES written in every single bite, but one can deal with such guilt later.
For me, though, it's gotten tiring. After doing this for ten years, I can't stand to even look at cakes anymore. Just the smell of fondant and the texture of melted chocolate all over my hands makes me sick to my stomach.
The business, though, is great. People love cakes and chocolate and sugar. All of these fat asses that walk right through the door of my bakery shop, they want donuts and cookies and all of this cream filled shit crawling with callories, diabetes, obesity... They want sugar in their bodies to make up for the lack of human warmth and I can see why: they're fat and gross, you can see their glassy eyes shining at the sight of food and you just feel their sugar stained blood pumping slowly through their greasy veins and causing their fat hearts to die a little bit with each bite of their delicious cake. Nobody likes fat people, they're disgusting. They can't find anyone willing to have sex with a mountain of lard and even masturbating becomes a difficult task when you have to dig through your own creases of shame just to get a glimpse of your throbbing fat cock or your slicky fat pussy. And since nobody loves them either and they're all alone in this judgemental society, they stuff their faces with more of this excruciatingly sweet whip cream and chocolate cream and egg cream and I would rather swallow a horse load than any of this.
Christmas is especially busy around here. Nothing says birth of Jesus Christ quite like morbid obesity in a box. People claim that food makes them happy, that chocolate contains hormones that release chemicals into your brain that make you feel good. You know what else does that? Getting laid. Which they will never do, unless they find a hooker that desperate for the next fix.
But I'm fucking glad that there are idiots like that in the world, that's how I make my money.
And I don't care what the communists say, money is fucking good. I feel like some sort of drug dealer: I sell my thing, people run to get it, they become addicted to it, they need more and more each day and then they die and their five hundred pound corpses won't even fit a normal casket. Which reminds me, I should invest in a mortuary business. The death of some makes the living of some, you know?
Being greedy as fuck is still better than being a gross fat humanoid who can't make it through the day without a disgusting cupcake. We are all going to hell, anyway, at least my soul is going to be skinny.
Gluttony: it feeds my greed.
For me, though, it's gotten tiring. After doing this for ten years, I can't stand to even look at cakes anymore. Just the smell of fondant and the texture of melted chocolate all over my hands makes me sick to my stomach.
The business, though, is great. People love cakes and chocolate and sugar. All of these fat asses that walk right through the door of my bakery shop, they want donuts and cookies and all of this cream filled shit crawling with callories, diabetes, obesity... They want sugar in their bodies to make up for the lack of human warmth and I can see why: they're fat and gross, you can see their glassy eyes shining at the sight of food and you just feel their sugar stained blood pumping slowly through their greasy veins and causing their fat hearts to die a little bit with each bite of their delicious cake. Nobody likes fat people, they're disgusting. They can't find anyone willing to have sex with a mountain of lard and even masturbating becomes a difficult task when you have to dig through your own creases of shame just to get a glimpse of your throbbing fat cock or your slicky fat pussy. And since nobody loves them either and they're all alone in this judgemental society, they stuff their faces with more of this excruciatingly sweet whip cream and chocolate cream and egg cream and I would rather swallow a horse load than any of this.
Christmas is especially busy around here. Nothing says birth of Jesus Christ quite like morbid obesity in a box. People claim that food makes them happy, that chocolate contains hormones that release chemicals into your brain that make you feel good. You know what else does that? Getting laid. Which they will never do, unless they find a hooker that desperate for the next fix.
But I'm fucking glad that there are idiots like that in the world, that's how I make my money.
And I don't care what the communists say, money is fucking good. I feel like some sort of drug dealer: I sell my thing, people run to get it, they become addicted to it, they need more and more each day and then they die and their five hundred pound corpses won't even fit a normal casket. Which reminds me, I should invest in a mortuary business. The death of some makes the living of some, you know?
Being greedy as fuck is still better than being a gross fat humanoid who can't make it through the day without a disgusting cupcake. We are all going to hell, anyway, at least my soul is going to be skinny.
Gluttony: it feeds my greed.