“Disgraceful. Utterly disgraceful,” Clarissa said, scrolling through thumbnail images on Facebook.
“I know,” Becky said. “It’s like A. Marie is thumbing her nose at you and all the work you do to help challenged mothers make appropriate birthday cakes for their kids.”
“275 parts,” Clarissa said. “The video tutorial I made on how to prepare organic, sugar-free, gluten-free, dairy-free, vegan fondant was only 275 parts. The fondant only takes three weeks to set. I mean, my GOD! I know there are so-called food bloggers out there who claim a decedent fondant only takes five minutes to throw together but I’ve had celebrity chefs ask me for this recipe. And my cakes always look AMAZING!”
“They are truly a work of art,” Becky said.
“Is she still complaining that your videos are too long?” Judy asked, setting down a silver tray of martinis.
“Yes!” Clarissa removed a martini from the tray and took a sip. I tried to tell her that she was being stubborn and ridiculous about not using fondant on the cake. She didn’t want to hear it. I told her that whatever she was making might be edible but would also be a social media embarrassment. And then she looked at me and said:
“Obviously,” Judy said. “I was up on my roof the other day, testing out a telescope I bought Jim for our anniversary and I saw something that just freaked me out.”
“What’s that?” Clarissa asked.
“Well, something went down at the Silver house the other day because before I knew it, a fire truck and an ambulance pulled up outside and do you know what?”
“What?” Clarissa and Becky asked.
“Those people marched into her house and didn’t even stop to take their shoes off.”
Clarissa and Becky gasped.
“I mean, really!” Judy continued. “Where was the fire?” I didn’t see any smoke.”
“I hope everything is okay,” Becky said.
“Oh, I’m sure everything is fine. A. Marie probably couldn’t get the lid off her peanut butter jar or something. Which, if she followed Clarissa’s tutorial on how to make a jar opener, wouldn’t have happened.”
“Thank you, Sweetie!” Clarissa smiled at Judy.
“Of course.” Judy patted the back of Clarissa’s hand. “Anyway, the fact that those first-responders didn’t take their shoes off just shows that A. Marie has no aptitude for being a proper hostess. As we all know, a proper hostess insists that her guests take their shoes off at the front door.”
“It makes me feel so relieved that A. Marie has never invited us over,” Becky said. “When I think of how dirty her floors must be it makes my feet itch.”
“Speaking of which.” Judy pulled a couple of business cards out of her pocket. “There’s a new guy at my salon. His name is Frankel and he does the most amazing lava pedicures. The downfall is you can’t walk on your feet for at least 6-8 hours after because of a risk of infection but when it’s all over and done with callouses will fear your feet and the skin is so smooth.”
Judy leaned over Clarissa’s Facebook account. “That cake is really the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Maybe it was the cake that called 9-1-1,” Clarissa said, snickering. “Help me, please! I want to be a beautiful ladybug covered in a fancy fondant but this crazy lady won’t listen.”
Judy, Clarissa, and Becky all cracked up in laughter.
Thanks for shopping Snark, Sass, & Sarcasm! I’ll see you next time.
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