The Erotic Bakery: Breakfast at Penelope’s
By Czolgolz
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The shot begins in the lobby of the ‘Anything Goes’ bakery.  A crowd of people, mostly women, wave and shout at the camera.  Panning behind the counter, we find Brian Pitcher, owner of ‘Anything Goes,’ standing at a kitchen counter.  The kitchen is huge, with many machines, both traditional and unusual.  Sharp observers might notices a pair of high-heeled shoes sitting next to a toaster oven.  Next to Brian is Penelope Mantiquilla, food reporter for Channel 66.

Penelope (with pronounced British accent):  Good morning.  This is Penelope Mantiquilla, reporting for Channel 66 news.  I’m here with Brian Pitcher, owner of the ‘Anything Goes’ bakery.  Welcome, Brian

Brian: It’s good to be back on your show.  I enjoyed being interviewed by your two predecessors.  

Penelope:  Jen and Andi?  Yes, we were sorry to see them quit.  Brian giggles.  What’s so funny?

Brian:  You didn’t happen to watch their interviews with me, did you?

Penelope:  I’m afraid not, I was just transferred in from our London bureau.  

Brian:  Well then, why don’t I explain what we do here.  I’ve developed a new type of novelty baked good.  I call it ‘total immersion.’  I can help you design an edible treat for your loved one, something he’ll never forget.

Penelope:  For example?

The screen flashes a yearbook photo of a group of high school cheerleaders.

Brian: These are the Charleston Senior High cheerleaders.  Back to kitchen.  For a community service project, they wanted to do something nice for our troops in Iraq, so I suggested we make some cheesecake.  Camera focuses on single cheesecake on counter.  We made over four dozen last week, which were frozen and shipped to various bases in Afghanistan and Kuwait.  The soldiers ate it up.

Penelope:  It’s so nice to see young people giving something back to the community.  

Penelope is momentarily stunned to see a cheerleading uniform draped over a mixing bowl, but recovers.  

Were the girls good at baking?

Brian:  The baking’s my job.  

Penelope:  They what did they do, exactly?

Brian:  Why don’t I give you a demonstration?  I’ll need a volunteer from the audience.

The camera cuts to the lobby.  Many women jump up and down, waving their hands in an effort to be selected.  Brian takes a short young brunette from the crowd and leads her back to the kitchen.

Penelope:  And what’s your name?

Ardelle:  Ardelle (giggles).

Brian:  A lovely name.  Now Ardelle, what’s your favorite breakfast food?

Ardelle:  I like those power bars.

Brian:  Anything else?

Ardelle:  Cheerios?

Brian: (annoyed)  Anything else?  Like something baked?

Ardelle:  Oh!  Waffles.  I love waffles.

Brian:  Then you’ll love this.  Come over here.

Brian gestures to what appears to be a ten-foot tall waffle iron.  An unusual machine, it opens outward instead up upwards, much like a large door.

Penelope:  What a neat machine!  Does it work?

Brian:  It certainly does.  Ardelle, would you step forward here?

Ardelle steps towards the waffle iron.  When she faces the camera again, Brian touches a button.  The door slams shut with an audible clang, and latches.  Steam begins to rise from inside.

Penelope:  Oh my God!  Is she okay?

Brian:  Relax, it’s all part of total immersion.  

Penelope gingery touches the iron, then yanks her hand back.

Brian:  Careful, honey, that’s hot.

Penelope:  It’s really cooking!  She’ll be burnt to a crisp!

Brian:  (laughs)  Not on my watch.  She’ll be golden brown, I stake my reputation on it.

Penelope:  Um.  Penelope is stunned.  She can’t stop looking at the huge waffle iron that’s baking Ardelle.

Brian: (taking Penelope by the arm) While Ardelle is cooking, why don’t I let my wife, Stacey, show you some other things we do in our kitchen.  Applause from audience.

Penelope:  (coming back to herself)  Oh, yes of course.

Stacey enters, decked out in cook’s whites.  She is an attractive redhead, though rather plump.  Close observers would notice that she’s gained at least fifty pounds since her wedding, three months ago.

Stacey:  Well now, what goes along well with waffles?  I have just the thing.  May I have another volunteer?

There are no takers this time.  Finally, one woman raises her hand.  She’s also a redhead, though very tall and muscular.  Her hair is long and her body taut.  She’s dressed in a black sweater and skirt.

Stacey:  And what’s your name?

Petra:  Petra.

Stacey:  Petra, what do you think would go well with Ardelle...excuse me, our waffles, this morning?

Petra:  Strawberries?  Cream?

Brian:  (annoyed) We get shills next time.

Stacey:  Give you a hint: it comes from Vermont.

Petra: (feigning ignorance) Ben and Jerry’s?

Stacey: (sighs)  Maple syrup.

Petra:  Of course.

Stacey:  And where do we get maple syrup from?

Petra:  Tapping a tree?

Stacey:  Correct.  Stacey removes a small tap from her apron pocket.  Petra, would you mind sitting on this stool?

Petra:  Okay.  What are we going to tap?

Without answering, Stacey lifts the bottom of Petra’s sweater, revealing her muscular stomach.  She begins screwing the tap into Petra’s navel.

Petra:  Hey, what gives?  Hey, stop it!  (giggles)

Stacey:  Hold still.  There.  Now we’ll just turn it on and drain some of Petra’s sweetness.  

Audience laughs and applauds.  Stacey places a clear glass bottle under the tap.

Petra:  Very funny.  Hey, what is that?  A thick brown liquid begins to flow from the tap.

Stacey:  Taste for yourself.  Stacey runs a hand under the flow and presses a finger to Petra’s lips.

Petra:  Hey, it is syrup!  How did you...  Petra gets a funny look on her face.  Slowly, her head descends through the neck hole of her sweater, followed by her long red hair.  Stacey caps a bottle and begins to fill a second.  Petra is gesticulating wildly feeling her shoulders and where her head used to be.

Penelope:  So this is what you mean by total immersion?  

Brian:  Exactly.  Imagine how touched anyone would be to get a quart of this sweet syrup.  Have a taste.  

Stacey offers Penelope a lick.  In the mean time, Petra’s arms have ascended through the armholes.  Her sleeves hang limp and the top of her sweater begins to collapse.

Penelope:  So, um, do you have many takers for this sort of arrangement?

Brian:  Hundreds.  Some women who want to give a special birthday or anniversary present, some guys who like to show their wives and girlfriends how sweet they think they are.

Stacey:  Whoops!  

Distracted, Stacey has overfilled the second bottle, spilling some of Petra on the floor.  She quickly switches to a third bottle.  Petra’s sweater has fallen to the floor, empty, and her feet have disappeared into her pants, her shoes empty on the floor.

Penelope: How much does this process cost?

Brian:  A standard fee of five dollars a pound.  We deliver.  And when ordering, be creative, we aim to please.

Stacey caps off a third bottle, which is not quite full.  Petra’s pants collapse to the floor, though, embarrassingly, her empty panties remain on the stool, under the tap.

Brian:  Ah, I see that Ardelle is done.  The light on the waffle iron is on.

Penelope:  I hate to say it, but she smells delicious.  Brian dons some oven mitts.

Brian:  Ardelle, honey, how you doing in there?  

Brian opens the huge waffle iron.  Pressed against the black checkered background is a waffle over five feet tall.  It is shaped vaguely like a human silhouette, only there are no curves.  All edges are straight and square.  The figure’s arms are thrown up in surprise.

Penelope:  Well, she certainly turned out nice.

Brian:  Thank you.  Brian picks up a spatula and begins sectioning the waffle woman, flipping individual waffles expertly onto a tray.

Penelope:  This is Penelope Mantiquilla, with Channel 66 news.  We’ll be right back.
Commercial

Penelope:  Hi, we’re back.  Brian and Penelope are seated at a dining table, resplendent with tablecloth, silver, and crystal.  It’s set for breakfast with milk, juice, and a heaping tray of Ardelle-waffles, as well as a bottle of Petra-syrup.   Well, I have to confess, I can’t wait to dig in!

Brian:  Not just yet.  We’re missing one ingredient.

Penelope:  Butter?

Brian:  Finally someone gets it right!  Yes, butter.  Allow me to demonstrate our churn.

Camera pans to a large wooden barrel, with a swinging door in front.  Above the barrel, attached to some difficult-to-interpret machinery, is the lid.

Penelope:  I guess you’ll be needing another volunteer from the audience?  

A shot of the audience.  No one is volunteering, though several girls joking try to raise their friends’ hands.  

Brian:  (taking microphone from Penelope)  Volunteer, yes, audience, no.

Penelope:  What do you (suddenly understanding)  Oh no!  Sorry, I never signed up for this!  

Brian:  Be a sport.  Audience, wouldn’t you like to see Penelope try out the new churn?
Audience cheers and claps.

Penelope:  I’m sorry, but...hey!  (Stacey gently but firmly takes Penelope by the hand, and leads her behind a large workstation)  What are you doing?  Stop!  I don’t want to be a side dish!

Brian:  More of a sauce, really.  

Stacey removes Penelope’s blouse and bra, though two carefully placed bottles of Petra-syrup block anything that would give the show an R rating.  Penelope is too stunned to resist.

Stacey:  While we could cook up Ardelle, clothes and all, we can’t risk any of your clothes gumming up the churn.  

Stacey has removed Penelope’s skirt and panties, though her lower half is blocked by the counter.

Penelope:  Larry!  Turn off that camera now!  We’re going to commercial!

Brian:  Larry, wouldn’t you like to see Penelope as a nice margarine?  

The camera image bobs up and down as the cameraman nods.

Penelope:  (staring daggers at Brian and Larry)  What makes you think I’m going to go along with this?

Brian:  Hey, you’re free to go.  Penelope looks down at her naked body and simply
glares.  Stacey opens the door to the front of the churn and ushers Penelope inside.  Closing the door, Penelope is only visible from the shoulders up.

Penelope:  I’m doing this under protest.  Why don’t you cook up your wife instead of me?

Brian has been grinning this whole time, but that comment stops him.  He gazes at his chubby wife for several seconds, almost drooling.  Stacey eventually jabs him with a spoon.

Brian:  Excuse me.  Um, are we ready to begin?

Stacey gives a thumbs up.  Brian throws a switch.  The lid begins to lower.  More angry than frightened, Penelope crouches down into the barrel.  Brian holds microphone towards the churn.

Penelope:  (inside churn)  This is Penelope Mantiquilla, from Channel 66 news.

The boom of the churn descends.  We hear a muffled ‘ouch’ from inside.  The boom begins thrusting very rapidly.

Brian:  Let’s take a quick break.

Cut to commercial.

Brian:  We’re back.  Let’s see how Penelope turned out.  

Camera cuts to the inside of the churn.  It is filled with rich, yellow butter.  On the surface, traced in slightly darker tones, is the astonished face of Penelope.  Camera pulls back to Brian, who is chatting with the audience.

Brian:  While Stacey is setting up, let’s get someone to join us for breakfast.  

No one volunteers.  Finally a girl is pushed to the front of the crowd.  She’s a young, freckle-faced teen, no older than sixteen.

Brian:  Don’t panic, honey.  

Girl:  You’re not going to cook me, are you?

Brian:  Of course not.  Look.  Gestures to table, with large plate of Ardelle-waffles, smothered in Petra-syrup, and topped with Penelope-butter.  What more could we need?

Brian and Stacey lead the girl over to the table.  The girl sits.

Brian:  We’re open from eight a.m. to ten p.m. weekdays.  Stop by for a taste.  Takes a bight of waffle.  Mmm.  This is Brian, Stacey, and, um, what’s your name?

Girl:  Cinnamon.

Brian and Stacey smile, surprised, and place their hands firmly on Cinnamon’s shoulders.  Cinnamon’s eyes grow wide with realization.  

Segment ends.