The Most Ferocious of Creatures - Chapter 1

How to Bake a Cake

Mrs Lambsbottom was approximately 1.236 and a quarter miles away from being an ordinary 87 year old lady. Although she burped - from her bottom as well as her mouth - like everyone else, she was a trifle crazy. In fact, she was a cold, curdled, custard cream crazy but that is a trifle harder to say.

Her face closely resembled that of a grandma. Granted, she occasionally wore an expression similar to that of a person who has been slapped in the face with a freshly caught trout but she smiled an awful lot. Although, I am afraid to say, she does not have much time for smiling in this story.

Mrs Lambsbottom wore her hair, which curled and danced in the slightest of breezes, high on her head. She paid someone £68 every two weeks to dress her hair with overly large rollers and in a peculiar blue rinse. If you wanted to be mean (which I would strongly advise against) you might say that she paid 10 pence for every single strand of hair. What she had may have been waning but to her it looked terribly terrific and that was what mattered.

She woke up at the same insane time every single day, even on a weekend. Five o’clock is not a time one needs to be awake for, unless of course, you happen to be baking cakes.

Cakes are terrifically temperamental things and will only allow themselves to be baked at that time in the morning because the air is wonderfully still and quiet. Ask any baker, they always start their day at the same ridiculous time too and spend the early hours coaxing the cakes to rise with the sun.

Although it is not actually a proven fact, cakes do not like much in this world; they are somewhat loathing in character. They appear at first sweet and innocent but if you took the time to really get to know one, you would know what I mean. They detest baths and showers, they hate the rain and puddles, and when it comes to rivers and lakes, well, it is best not to mention them.

If by chance you were to take a cake into the bath (some people have been known to) the cake would panic and jump straight out of your hands in a frantic bid for dry freedom. And, because cakes are not particularly great at jumping, they would - more often than not - drop directly into the water that they had desperately tried to avoid and become spoilt.

The exception to the rule, for there always is an exception to any rule, is a sponge cake. All sponge cakes love baths and showers, they love the rain and puddles, and when it comes to rivers and lakes, well, they love them too.

It has been widely reported, amongst certain people, that sponge cakes will follow a smelly person for hours in the hope that they will be bathing in the not too distant future. Those said sponge cakes will dive directly into the water with you, soaking it all up. (I say ‘you’ here and I do not mean you personally but ‘you’ as in bathers as a whole. You - the reader - are not necessarily a smelly person. I cannot smell you through this book so I do not know. It is not a magical book but from the look of you, that is probably a good thing.)

It is best not to take any cake into the bath. It is much preferred that cakes are to be eaten with vigour and gusto, in mainly dry surroundings. The odd dollop of cream never hurt anyone intentionally and is quite tasty with cakes.

Mrs Lambsbottom had never baked a cake in her life. She thought that she lived alone and did not care much for supposedly sweet and innocent confectioneries.

She began her day, that fateful day which changed her life, as she began any other. After waking up in her strangely small bed, in her awfully tall and wickedly wide house, she slid her long and pointy feet into her long and pointy slippers. Whilst walking down her many, many stairs she stretched and yawned on the 72nd, as she always did, and entered her fearsomely large kitchen. Readying her terribly large pan on her preposterously large cooker, she opened her cupboard to take a handful of oats, with which she would make porridge.

Tremendously tasty cakes can only be baked after eating a substantial breakfast. Although cakes do not particularly like porridge they prefer it to eggs, which is unfortunate for cakes because you cannot bake a cake without breaking a few free-range eggs. Tremendously tasty cakes need the free-range eggs smashed right into the mixture, shells and all. You cannot give a cake everything that it wants otherwise it will become sluggish and lazy.

Instead of taking a handful of oats, Mrs Lambsbottom had hold of something completely different. It was shortly after five o’clock in the morning and Mrs Lambsbottom had not noticed that she was not holding a handful of oats at all. Her long and chubby fingers had hold of...

The Most Ferocious of Creatures