Jerker McCumming's Wonderous Waffle Shop

Copyright © by SpencerWroteThis 2014

Jerker McCumming's Wonderous Waffle Shop

Jerker McCumming was a young man in his early thirties of Irish and Swedish heritage who sold waffles for a living. His always grumpy mother had insisted that he learned Swedish as his first language when growing up, and therefore spoke quite broken English. As an effect of this upbringing, he sounded like a combination of a leprechaun and a Swedish-speaking walrus with a speech impairment when talking. 

Always having had huge ambitions of selling waffles in England, Jerker' dream had slowly but surely come true. He was the working manager of a cute little old-fashioned waffle shop in beautiful Welford-von-Avon, Worwickshire, and had two loyal employees whose names were Roger Todger and Dickie Champion.

His soul sponsor, a self-made millionaire who rarely visited the waffle shop because he invested in several other businesses, was Sir Jag Higginbottom. Jerker thought Jag's name was quite funny, because he owned two Jaguars. The sportcars, not the felines.

Jerker stood at 6'7, had thick curly chestnut hair and huge protuding eyes. One of his irises was caramel brown, the other one lime green. He was skinny fat, had bubbly red cheeks and a head the size of a watermelon, making for quite an appearance.

Sometimes Roger, being somewhat of a bully, joked that Jerker looked like a freak monster fish. Jerker didn't like fish and therefore didn't like his joke. Instead of firing him when he pulled his leg, Jerker cut Roger's pay a little each time the joke was told. Despite his crazily egosentric personality, Roger didn't mind much, because the only thing he was good at aside from teasing his manager, was making waffles, and he wasn't terribly good at that either.

McCumming's Waffle Shop logo showed a big delicious orange-yellow waffle layered with hot white vanilla sauce on top. You could tell the sauce was hot because of the badly illustrated grey smoke cloud coming out of it. The quite terrible drawing stood tall and proud on a wooden display.

The outside of the shop was very classic British, and really something else. Designed like a cottage, because it used to be back in the day, it stood right by the lush forest of Welford-von-Avon. Higginbottom being the brains, mostly because Jerker wasn't terribly bright, had managed to market McCumming's as a niche boutique that sold the most unique waffles you'd ever taste. Their hot white vanilla sauce was of a secret recipe, and everybody who tasted it felt, in Higginbottom's words, aroused after doing so.

One particular sunny morning when selling waffles, Jerker got a brutal erection as an attractive person of the opposite gender entered his shop. As the woman walked towards the polished wooden counter to order, Jerker tried to hide his erection by holding a McCumming's waffle in front of his groin. He managed to hide his uncanny object just in the nick of time.

"Hi!" the woman smiled. "Hej, vackra kvinna. Should it be a waffle today?" The woman looked up at him. Jerker thought the female was quite short and spoke like a foreigner, although he couldn't place the accent. She wore slick square glasses, green jogging shoes with pink laces - Jerker coud see because them his giraffe height - and a curacao-blue bonnet hat. If the woman hadn't been pretty, Jerker had thought the outfit to be of quite an akwkward composition.

"Yeah, thought I'd try one" she giggled."

"You have a funny name for a waffle shop" she smiled. Jerker threw his head back and laughed his trademark laugh when not understanding what a person was implying. In effect it made him lose the waffle he was concealing his erection with to the ground.

"Åh nej" he thought to himself. Jerker McCumming was so tall, not far off to be a living breathing Mamenchisaurus, that his erection situated itself perfectly on the top of the counter, exposing it to everyone with their eyes at the right place.