A/N This chapter is from a college website.
It started out as a harmless joke…probably. The truth is, we will never know. Despite the fact that our townhouse is home to quite a few self-claimed investigative sleuths, the strange case of the Elmo Cake Incident will most likely remain a mystery.
Here it is. A Halloween tale like no other. Read carefully, though: there’s a lesson here.
It was a Saturday afternoon like any other. Due to the glorious weather, combined with the fact that we all have pretty busy schedules and Cara’s parents were visiting, the inhabitants of the house were in and out all day. None of us ever pay much attention to what is in the fridge (that is, until the reserves start dwindling), and we never really pay any mind to what anyone else has bought, unless it’s a staple item that we all share.
However, when I returned to our house to reconvene with the gals and for a quick lunch that afternoon, something stopped me in my tracks.
I jumped, startled, as I opened the fridge. There on the top shelf, staring at me with piercing eyes, was the mysterious cake.
Flustered, all I could do for a moment was stare. Not only was it terrifying, but it was completely out of place for anyone in the house to purchase a cake like this one. It was covered in a thick layer of sugary red frosting—not really the type of dessert any of us enjoy. We’d rather chocolate. Or ice cream. Mmm.
The thing looked like the Elmo of my nightmares. Not the cuddly little puppet I learned to love in childhood, but a cold, reincarnated evil version of one of my long-time favorite characters.
“Uh, guys…what’s with the creepy Elmo cake?”
Alex was the first to tell me that she figured one of us had bought it. For some reason, I decided that the most likely person to have purchased a sale-priced Elmo cake was Cait. But when I mentioned it to her, all she had to say was, “Why would you think I bought that?” It was then that we decided Cara’s parents must have brought it, as they had kindly stocked our fridge that morning.
But when Cara returned home that evening, she had no idea what we were talking about. She laughed at the cake and called her mom, who was equally surprised by its mysterious appearance. She confirmed that she had no idea where it came from.
This is when the Elmo Cake Conspiracy Theories began. We started calling all of our friends, asking if they left a cake in our fridge. We received a lot of nos, usually followed by “what are you all talking about?”, “are you okay?” and “you guys are crazy.” For a while, we falsely accused our friend Sharon on the grounds that she was smiling too much to be innocent (turns out she just thought it was funny). I even bothered a friend of mine about it so much that it may have threatened our friendship (for approximately five minutes).
We began recounting our weekend, noting every person we let into the house and trying to figure out how they could have legitimately snuck a cake in. We began worrying that our house was not secure—as a group of four quite cautious people, we never left our house without locking the front and back doors and windows.
“What if someone came in while one of us was upstairs?”
“We need to make sure we don’t leave the sliding door open if nobody is in the living room.”
“I could have been in the shower! WHAT IF SOMEONE SNUCK IN WHILE I WAS IN THE SHOWER?”
And the paranoia went on and on. The cake sat on the counter as we all debated how this could have happened. It stared at us menacingly. It mocked us while we tried to figure out the likeliness of an alien invasion.
After a longer amount of time than any of us would like to admit, we finally came to the conclusion that most people break into homes to take things out of them, not to leave behind creepy confectionary creations. However, the question of the cake still remains.
The cake itself, not so much. After some scrutiny, we realized that the label on the container was still sealed. It did not look tampered with in any way. Besides, the thing was just staring at us. So, we decided, let them eat cake...