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<\/p>\nBy Michael Conley.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Anouska has fashioned seventeen tiny marzipan peonies. Leon is weeping over a failed custard. Padraig is doing something with smoke. His is a life of drudgery and his creations represent the possibility of becoming something greater than himself.<\/p>\n
This is the sort of endeavour where, despite high stakes, everyone is supportive of everyone else. The only exception is Charles, who makes no secret of his competitiveness, his desire to be designated the Cake Genius. He visibly smirked in rehearsal when everyone else\u2019s key lime pies turned out like crap. But even Charles isn\u2019t so bad. When it comes to being an excellent baker, even the most chalk-and-cheese personalities have more in common with each other than with those who don\u2019t bake at all.<\/p>\n
The contestants don\u2019t know they\u2019re taking part in a show called Bake a Cake for the Cack-Handed Oaf<\/em>. They think the show is called Cake Genius,<\/em> and that the cakes are going to be judged by a famous Michelin-star chef.<\/p>\n The show\u2019s two producer\/presenters, Mayhew and Gibbons, are the only ones who know what\u2019s going to happen vis-\u00e1-vis<\/em> the non-existence of any Michelin-star chef and the imminent arrival of a devastatingly real Cack-Handed Oaf. It was agreed that none of the crew could be trusted to keep the secret: for the secret is the beating heart of the concept. Mayhew is in his late fifties, a silver-haired, affable former children\u2019s TV show host who is still able, on occasion, to channel the bouncing zaniness of his youth. Gibbons is younger, a former model with long blond hair, a heart-shaped face, and big blue Disney princess eyes. There is a chemistry between them that is mostly father-daughter, but with an odd extra frisson, not exactly sexual, but also not exactly not. They are well known for corpsing whenever one of them lets slip an innuendo, which is often. This is part of their appeal.<\/p>\n The concept is this: Oafs have been selected based on their propensity for dropping, spilling, and breaking. They have been told that the program is called Bake a Cake for Heroes, <\/em>and that they, the heroes, are to be awarded the privilege of judging and consuming the cakes based on the good deeds they have done in their lives. There will be a different Cack-Handed Oaf in each episode: sometimes the Cack-Handed Oaf will be a man, sometimes a woman, sometimes even a child.<\/p>\n This is the second day of shooting. Episode One\u2019s theme, yesterday, was tiered wedding cakes. During the reveal, two cakes were crushed, hard, by Sally, a nursery nurse whom the contestants had been told was a master patissier. The contestants were assured that the crushing incidents would be taken into account at judging, and in fact the person voted off at the end of the day was Hendrik, whose cake had survived but had been poorly iced. Sally had cried, but was assured by everybody that no harm had been done.<\/p>\n Mayhew and Gibbons reckon they have at least two more opportunities for the use of the Oafs before the contestants begin to suspect foul play.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Today\u2019s Cack-Handed Oaf is Grant. He is thirty-three years old and spends his weekends as a football coach for children. The children call him Gaffer. They respond well to his gentle authority. In the studio next door to the contestants, Grant is interviewed by the producers for his cutaway scenes to camera. He answers various questions about his commitment to grassroots community sports, his love for his family, his favourite cakes. \u201cI\u2019m a terrible cook, but the funny thing is,\u201d he says, \u201cis that my last name is Baker!\u201d He breaks into a guileless chuckle. \u201cGrant Baker!\u201d In the final edit these answers will be spliced in disconcerting ways to make him look less articulate than he is, and on the screen will appear the text: Grant: Fucking Hell.<\/em><\/p>\n Mid-afternoon, Mayhew and Gibbons announce to the contestants that their time is up. They introduce Grant as the Head Chef of Ursa Major <\/em>in London\u2019s Mayfair, a restaurant which, of course, does not exist. As Grant is led into the studio, the contestants nod and widen their eyes in surprise. Charles feigns recognition of the famous chef and indicates to Anouska that he is a regular patron of Ursa Major<\/em>.<\/p>\n Immediately, Grant stumbles over a poorly-taped-down camera cable. Mayhew and Gibbons exchange a private non-verbal signal of mutual congratulation, undetectable to the casual observer.<\/p>\n Anouska comes to the display table for judging. Grant admires the marzipan peonies and the skilful craftsmanship of the precarious layers. His thick paw sweeps close to the load-bearing candy-cane struts. Mayhew and Gibbons hold their breath, but Grant\u2019s touch is surprisingly light for a big man. He takes a marzipan peony between thumb and forefinger and nibbles the edge. He breaks into a wide grin.<\/p>\n \u201cDelicious,\u201d he announces.<\/p>\n Next is Padraig. His cake is covered with a smoke-filled hardened sugar dome.<\/p>\n \u201cYou need to smash the dome,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n Grant balls his fist and brings it crashing down, shattering the sugar into crystals, sending smoke to the ceiling in roiling vanilla plumes. The cake inside is white and perfect. Grant\u2019s fist hovers over it, millimetres from reducing it to mush. The other contestants gasp in admiration.<\/p>\n Before Leon can move with his failed custard, a cameraman screams in horror. Framed in the light of the doorway to the adjacent studio is an adult grizzly bear, easily over seven feet tall on its hind legs. The delicate bakery smell in the room is replaced by the stench of raw meat and wet earth.<\/p>\n \u201cIs\u2026is this part of it?\u201d Charles asks a producer, who responds with a terrified shake of the head. Charles shuffles backwards, discreetly placing Anouska and Padraig between himself and the bear. Anouska notices it. \u201cFucking Charles,\u201d she whispers to Padraig, through gritted teeth. Her fingers curl around the handle of the nearest breadknife.<\/p>\n Mayhew squeezes Gibbons\u2019 shoulder. The two of them run to the topmost corner of the studio\u2019s seating gallery, further away from the bear than anyone else and marginally protected by a handrail separating the seating area from the filming area.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s hard to believe this has happened,\u201d Gibbons whispers, numbed by the adrenaline.<\/p>\n Mayhew nods in agreement.<\/p>\n The bear rears up onto its hind legs and roars. The contestants scatter and hide behind the various kitchen islands. The bear sniffs the air and lopes around the display table, smashing every cake to pieces with wide swipes of its paws. The floor is covered with crumbs and icing sugar, which the bear stomps into the carpet.<\/p>\n \u201cEasy, bear,\u201d Grant says, stepping forward, bent slightly at the waist, palms-up in a posture of open submission. \u201cHey bear, easy bear,\u201d he whispers. \u201cThis way, bear. Hey bear, easy, bear.\u201d Grant backs towards the double doors leading to the greenroom.<\/p>\n \u201cGrant, no!<\/em>\u201d Anouska whispers, her eyes wide.<\/p>\n The bear looks up from the mess on the floor and plods inquisitively towards Grant.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d says Grant, in the same calm, soothing tone. Then he speaks a little louder for the others. \u201cIt\u2019s the only way,\u201d he says. \u201cWhen I get him in the greenroom with me, lock the doors. Save yourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n Grant moves more quickly, encouraging the bear with gentle noises.<\/p>\n Charles mouths the words \u201cIt\u2019s working!\u201d and is unable to hide a wide grin of relief.<\/p>\n In the back of the auditorium, Mayhew stands up. Grant\u2019s attention is diverted, momentarily, by the sound, and he briefly takes his eyes off the advancing bear.<\/p>\n The bear roars again.<\/p>\n \u201cJust wait, mate, just wait,\u201d Grant pleads. \u201cAlmost there, just wait, just don\u2019t move.\u201d<\/p>\n There\u2019s a brief moment of silence as the bear stops and sniffs the air.<\/p>\n \u201cFuck this,\u201d Mayhew shouts: and with that he sprints down the steps towards the exit doors that lead directly outside. As he turns to pass behind the bear, it twists around and in three long strides it\u2019s upon him. He screams as it locks its jaws on his neck. His screams turn to gurgles and eventually silence as the bear bites down, long arcs of blood showering Padraig.<\/p>\n \u201cMayhew! No!\u201d shouts Gibbons. She runs down the aisle as the bear stands up, Mayhew\u2019s tendons dangling from its jaws. Almost lazily, as though signalling for a passing bus, it swings its paw and takes off the majority of Gibbons\u2019 face: the face hits the floor with a wet splat and Gibbons\u2019 lifeless body crumples.<\/p>\n The bear bends down again to continue snuffling at Mayhew.<\/p>\n Grant gestures to the contestants and, along with most of the crew, they move quickly and silently into a large group behind him. Since the bear is engrossed in its meal, they are all able to move into the greenroom together. Just as Grant is about to close the doors, fireworks erupt in loud explosions on either side of the main display island. Techno music starts to thump through the overhead sound system and pink and purple lights flash on and off. The bear howls in confusion as two handlers run out and then howls in dismay as they sedate it. It falls with a thump among the viscera and cake crumbs.<\/p>\n One of the handlers throws off her trenchcoat to reveal a sparkly red dress, swipes off her hat to shake out her shining blonde hair. \u201cWoooo!\u201d she shouts, directly into Camera 1, which has been running the entire time. \u201cWoooooo!\u201d<\/p>\n The woman is Sally, the nursery nurse from yesterday\u2019s episode.<\/p>\n \u201cWelcome to Grin and Bear It!\u201d <\/em>she shouts. Now the techno gives way to rock music and she simulates devil horns with the fingers of her raised right hand, while with her free hand she vigorously strums an air guitar.<\/p>\n Grant leads the contestants and crew members out of the greenroom, flinching, shivering, blinking, into the harsh pink and purple light. He looks at Sally, then at the bloody mess that was once Mayhew and Gibbons. He looks at the unconscious bear, then at Anouska, Leon, Padraig, Charles.<\/p>\n Grant breaks into a wide grin. He begins to laugh.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n ABOUT THE AUTHOR Anouska has fashioned seventeen tiny marzipan peonies. Leon is weeping over a failed custard. Padraig is doing something with smoke. His is a life of drudgery and his creations represent the possibility of becoming something greater than himself. This is the sort of endeavour where, despite high stakes, everyone is supportive of everyone else. The only exception is Charles, who makes no secret of his competitiveness, his desire to be designated the Cake Genius. He visibly smirked in rehearsal when everyone else\u2019s key lime pies turned out like crap. But even Charles isn\u2019t so bad. When it comes to being an excellent baker, even the most chalk-and-cheese personalities have more in common with each other than with those who don\u2019t bake at all.<\/p>\n A short story by Michael Conley<\/b>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":44448,"featured_media":113855,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-113853","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113853","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/44448"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=113853"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113853\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":114048,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113853\/revisions\/114048"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/113855"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=113853"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=113853"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=113853"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/08\/michaelconley.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
\n<\/strong>Michael\u00a0Conley<\/span><\/strong> is a poet and prose writer from Manchester.\u00a0 His first prose collection, Flare and Falter<\/em>, was published by Splice and longlisted for the Edge Hill Short Story Prize, and his latest collection of poetry is a pamphlet published by Nine Pens, These Are Not My Dreams<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"