From the salacious strawberry to the lascivious lemon, the radiant raspberry to the captivating cherry, the bewitching blackberry to the down right dirty custard, if you were looking for a good time and had the dough to spend, Bakewell Street was where you headed. Home not only to the licensed brothels and bordellos, if your were looking for an extra ounce of icing sugar or liquor, this was the place to come. Situated on the middle tier, with its own access to the complicated lift system, Bakewell Street was the place for shady shenanigans in Cake Stand City.Read More »
Lemon Muffin paced around the office, a bad case of verbal diarrhoea following in her wake. It was clear to Inspector Gache that Lemon Muffin was uneasy about the idea; this was a good thing. Yes he needed to know that Muffin would follow his lead over any others, but it was never wise to get into business with anyone who would screw over old loyalties at a drop of a hat. Still, her constant verbal reasoning with herself was getting a little much and he needed to move this along.Read More »
Inspector Gache sat in his office, watching Constable Bread and Lemon Muffin carry in an extra desk. He ordered that the desks be set up in a triangle shape, so they could all sit and talk and look at each other. As if to answer an unasked question, Gache said,
“The majority of our work, and our time, will be spent in this room. Here we can look at the evidence we have found, state the theories we have concocted and allow our fellows to rebuke or add to them. Here cases will be cracked.”Read More »
Cake Stand City consisted of three tiers, and had been that way ever since it was constructed. When the Biscuit War broke out it soon became apparent that the Cakes would lose due to the vastly superior numbers the biscuits could put out. To level the playing the field the Master Baker of the Cake Stand City invented bread; cheap to make and quick, it was almost the perfect solution. Yet against the speed and agility of a biscuit the loaf was too slow and too big a target. In a move the Master Baker would eventually come to hate, he came up with a way to slice the loaf into twenty four equal parts. Each slice was a unique, if still somewhat linked, individual. Soon the Cake army outnumbered the Biscuit army by ten to one, and the war ended in an uneasy truce.
With the war over the problem became one of housing, and superiority. Even though the Breads had saved Cake Stand City, every Cake (with a few exceptions) believed they were better than the Breads. When it was suggested the Breads would slide into the existing tiers of the City, this was met with outrage and disgust. While the Cakes debated the problem, the more solution ready Breads simply built a new tier of the City in the dirt below the bottom tier. To this day the Cakes still debate the Bread Housing issue, whereas the Breads are very happy in their section that they refer to as their Bin.Read More »
Gache sat in his office, the sights and smells of the recent crime scene still very fresh in his mind. He had left when the Muffin Squad turned up, flashing their badges and taking authority over the case. Even though he knew the Mayor was right now fighting against the Muffin intrusion, Gache knew he would not get very far. This was not the first time ‘The Slicer’ had committed his unique and ghastly crime sprees, but by Hot Cross Buns Gache swore this would be the last. But he knew that if the Muffin Squad was investigating all the future held was twelve more dead cakes and no answers.Read More »
It was rare for it to rain in Cake Stand City, but tonight the rain lashed down hard and battered the streets. Inspector Gache sat in his small home, eyes glued to the drops of rain, waiting for the knock on the door he knew would come. It was not that he was superstitious, he just knew rain instilled a primal fear in the residents of this great city. For as a wise but often deranged Fruit and Nut loaf once said ‘no one likes a soggy cake’.
He didn’t have to wait long for that knock. He walked slowly to his door, grabbing his rain jacket of yellow icing on the way. Opening the door he had expected one of the many Constables to be waiting for him, instead he found himself looking at the Mayor; an odd Raisin Cake who verged on the larger side and whose well known disposition and fondness for rum had made him one of the few cakes alive to permanently add an ingredient to his mix post bake. Still, the Mayor was a shrewd character who was not known for running his own errands, especially not alone.
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