Junk and Other Stories

All the World is Birthday Cake

"Come on, lads. Stop messing around! This needs to be perfect!"

"Stop your fussing, George. The girl won't mind what we give her!"

"Yes, she will! She's a very refined girl. She has high standards."

"You're only saying that because you have a whacking great crush on her."

George glared up at John. He was hovering in his side in midair, propping his head up with one hand and absentmindedly twirling his hair with the other. He was grinning at George in a strange way, all of his teeth bared. 

"I don't have a crush on her, you numpty," George snapped. "I just want to make sure that this party goes according to plan. I hope she likes it."

"Who wouldn't love a party thrown by their rock and roll idols?" said Davy from his spot on the bed.

"You're not exactly rock and roll, Mr Bubblegum Teenybopper," Freddie sneered.

Davy shot Freddie a frosty glare but didn't say a word.

"Guys, come on," said David, sidling up beside George. "Be a sport, the lot of you. George has been working very hard on this project of his, so the least you could do is help out!"

"Thank you, David," George said gratefully. He consulted his clipboard. "Right, everything's going according to plan. Now all we're waiting on is the cake."

"Can I help you make the cake?" David asked.

"I want to do the cream and jam in the middle!" Davy cried.

"I volunteer to do the icing and decorating," Freddie said grandly. "I'll do my level best to make this cake the most fabulous one anyone has ever seen!"

"And I'll help eat it," said John. 

"Uh... okay." George cleared his throat. "Right, lads. Into the kitchen!"

* * * *

The group set to work making their cake. George read out the recipe, David grabbing out the ingredients as they were recited. Flour, eggs, sugar, cocoa powder... it all began to pile up on the bench-top. George scanned the instructions and set the other lads to work doing different tasks. 

Davy was in charge of whipping the cream.

David was made chief beater of eggs and mixer of ingredients.

Freddie was busy trying to figure out how to make multicoloured icing.

"What can I do, George?" John asked.

"You can, um..." George glanced around the kitchen for inspiration. "You can stand over by the pantry and guard the food inside."

John's face fell. "Oh... Okay. I guess I could do that..."

"Good lad," said George, grinning and patting his friend on the shoulder.

The other lads attacked the kitchen like absolute madmen. Davy whisked until his arm felt ready to drop off. David sifted the flour a bit too vigorously so it looked like a mini snowstorm had taken place in the kitchen. Freddie went a little overboard with the food colouring and ended up with yellow all over his hands and up his arms. George leaped about the kitchen, trying to sort them all out.

John stayed in front of the pantry, arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face.

The lads poured and stirred and cracked some more.

"Not bad," George commented, peering into the bowl.

"This is going to be the best chocolate cake in the history of the world," said David, taking his spoon out of the bowl and licking it.