Fruitcake Follies

It’s late outside because my Beautiful Girlfriend and I were visiting a Beautiful Friend, and we definitely had some wonderful food. Too much food, actually. So there I was, stuffed to the gills and getting home late, and I thought to myself, “Self,” I thought… “What are you gonna write about for Frappy Hiday at this hour?? Anyway???”

Well, since the Holidays are upon us, I again thought to myself, “how about a nice story about fruitcake? Haven’t had that delicacy in our home for awhile now, and I kinda miss it. Funny, but all these years I thought I was the only one in the house who craved the stuff; but lo and behold our daughter fessed up to loving fruitcake recently. So now of course I’m gonna have to go find some… if it’s not all gone already.

Anyway… without further ado, here’s my very late night story about: FRUITCAKE. You know, that sugar and fat laden seasonal delicacy. It’s often had a bad rap and has been the source of many a holiday standup comedy schtick. I know it sounds like a deadly thing to some, but I love that stuff. I simply can’t help myself, it’s so gooey and delicious… mmmmm, I just want to smear it all over my eyebrows before I hop into bed so I can floof into dream land with visions of sugar lumps. Or something like that…

Yes, I am liking the fruitcake. I use a chainsaw to cut it into 1 inch thick pieces, and make nice shingles for my home. They are not only decorative, but provide excellent insulation and have an added bonus of being bullet proof. Police peoples will probably be wearing vests made of fruitcake in the near future.

There’s only one thing wrong with using fruitcake for bullet protection. Tests have proven it to be very effective, but nobody can ever find the bullet after shooting the cake. I have a theory that fruitcake is actually a living organism, and when foreign objects get trapped inside, it digests them and alters their appearance. So, although that 9 mm slug is probably in there, the fruitcake instantly disguises it as a maraschino cherry.

Fruitcakes make nice lawn ornaments, and when dried for a week or two, can be painted to match your exterior decor. They are also an excellent substitute for broken concrete to as a border for raised flowerbeds. Other uses are wheel chocks and boat anchors. Its uses are limited only by your imagination.

I’ve heard that people will spike a fruitcake with rum or some other type of alcoholic beverage to make special spongy holiday cheer. I’m allergic to spiked spongefruit. It makes me try to pull my pants off over my head. Then I become compulsive about the stuff, and eat so much fruitcake that the room begins to spin. I’ve even said a few embarrassing things, like, “this is wonderful fruitcake. Will you marry me? May I barf in your sugar bowl?” Then, I’d throw up and go for more fruitcake; and on the way home my allergic reaction would be to break out in traffic violations.

Basically, I learned the hard way that I simply shouldn’t go around drinking fruitcake anymore.

Of course, there is a very practical use for spiked fruitcake: it makes a wonderful fire starting log. Be careful though, because if the fire is not tended carefully it may cause an explosion. You’ll be picking fruit shrapnel out of your hiney and other delicate body areas. Another drawback is the effect on birds flying past chimneys where fruit starting logs are being used. Birdies have been known to inhale spongespike fruit fumes, causing them to:

a) fall straight to the ground

2) roll around laughing

r) go to bed with other birds’ mates, and

12) wake up in a strange home, complaining of a severe headache and nausea the next day.

Needless to say, none of these is very good for the Holiday Spirit.

Fruitcake needs no spiking, really, since it has enough sugar in it to sweeten 27 gallons of lemon juice. Since sugar is a very wonderful drug, it attracts me like a moth to a flame. Even though I stick to the non-spiked fruitcake, I have to be careful not to overindulge. After all, I’ve never yet been arrested for OUIF (Operating Under the Influence of Fruitcake), and I don’t intend to get busted. I’m not sure what the legal BFL (Blood Fruitcake Level) is, but someone is probably out there watching for people who’ve had too much:

“Do you know why I pulled you over, sir??”

“Not sure, officer. I was a bit shaky on that turn, but I can assure you, I’m not intoxicated.”

“How much fruitcake did you have this evening, sir?  That gut of yours seems to be impeding the steering wheel.”

“Honest, officer, I only had two pieces. I was at a party, and, well, things got a little out of hand.”

“But if you only had two pieces, what do you mean about this party getting out of hand??”

“OK, officer. I took two more pieces for the road. I tried to stop, but it was just so-o-o-o good,” I murmured with glazed, squinty eyes.  “Got some of that eggnog too.”

“Get out of the car, sir. Let me get my tape measure to check if that gut is legal. We don’t want Fathers Against Tub-o’-lards (F.A.T.) busting me down to corporal, now do we?? I’m getting ready to retire, and I’m not gonna let a bozo like you mess it up for me! And stand back, Mr. Sugarbreath! Zheesh, you got some stinky sweetbreath there!”

“Pardon my fruit belch, officer. I’m really sorry.”

“OK, smartypants, just don’t let it happen again. Let’s see… a guy your height should have about a 36 inch waist… but your gut is 347 inches!! Doesn’t that belt hurt??”

“Of course it hurts!! I mean…  ummm… officer, can’t you give me a break, just this once? I’ve never been arrested. How would I explain this to my wife and kids?”

“Well, it IS getting close to Christmas. But just to be safe, you better hand over the pieces you haven’t crammed in your face yet. Besides, my bulletproof vest has a shingle coming loose.”

“Sure thing, officer. One of the cherries had a sort of metallic taste to it, anyhow. But I think it should repair that vest of yours pretty nicely.”

Whew, that was a close one. But hey, all’s well that ends well. I didn’t get hauled in for OUIF. I made it home in time for dinner, and “Mrs. Santa” was none the wiser, if you know what I mean.

But just for good measure, I stopped at the convenience store and picked up some more fruitcake.

Good thing it’s only once a year!!