The Great Faerun Baking Show (Part one of possibly more)
Intelligence is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing not to put ketchup in a profiterole. Dexterity is crafting a croquembouche out of red craquelin-encrusted ketchup-filled profiteroles. Strength is carrying that croquembouche from your bench to the judge’s table. Constitution is being able to withstand the pressure of having your tomato croquembouche being judged by Prue Leith. Charisma is trying to convince Paul Hollywood that your tomato croquembouche was a completely logical idea.
Twelve new bakers have been chosen to enter the tent. Over the next ten weeks, they will face 30 brand new challenges. Every aspect of their baking will be scrutinized and put up to the scrutiny of Prue and Paul. Each week one will rise to become Star Baker, and whoever crumbles to the pressure will be sent home. But who will go on to win the Great Faerun Baking Show?
I came up with this horrible idea so now I’m inflicting it on all of you. May the gods have mercy on your souls. So here’s how this odd little imagine is going to work. I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’m just going to roll a D20 ‘bake check’ for everyone, and write out the results, including what everyone rolled so y’all know I’m not cheating just so my druid boyfriend can win. The person with the lowest total score (out of a possible score of 60) goes home. I’m going to write this in short form, but if this gets a lot of traction I might make this a full-scale fanfiction with shenanigans on like AO3 or something.
Our bakers are 6 men and 6 women. I put all romanceable companions, Jaheira and Minsc, Dammon because he’s wonderful, and because I’m making the rules here, my tav Medora. If you’d rather not deal with someone else’s tav, just pretend it’s Alfira since they’re both female bards. If you're interested in seeing what my sleep-deprived mind came up with one night, read on!
Week One: Cake Week, or "why did you think putting literal blood in a cake was a good idea"
Signature Challenge: Swiss Roll Cake
Astarion: Dark chocolate and blood orange. It cracked a little on the top, but it tasted quite nice.
Dammon: Apple pie. Surprisingly for a blacksmith who works with heavy-duty equipment he’s really good at making small, delicate things. It had a tiny lattice top in royal icing like a real apple pie would. It tasted excellent.
Gale: He wanted something unusual and colorful, so he went with ube. He wanted to use magic to make it float or change color, but was told that was against the rules. It’s okay though, It was still really nice, and beautifully presented.
Halsin: Wild blueberry and honey. He harvested the honey himself, and was proud to say so. Unfortunately he used sugar instead of salt because he got distracted by some ducks walking by outside the tent, and it tasted awful.
Jaheira: Chocolate and peanut butter. It’s flavors her kids like. Unfortunately Paul seems to always have issues with peanut butter and how it glues his mouth shut. He wasn’t as big a fan of the cake as Prue was.
Karlach: S’mores swiss roll with toasted marshmallows on top. She toasted the marshmallows a bit too much, but that’s part of the charm of s’mores. She’s not sorry.
Lae’zel: Matcha and black sesame. Interesting flavor choices, but not as well-executed as the judges would have liked.
Medora: Lemon meringue. The meringue was very poorly executed, the lemon curd squished out of the sides of the cake, and the cake itself cracked horribly.
Minsc: Chai swiss roll. The swiss roll wasn’t as tight as it should have been, but the flavors were lovely.
Minthara: Chocolate and whiskey swiss roll. Accompanied by shots of whiskey, in an attempt to bribe the judges.
Shadowheart: Cookies and cream swiss roll, with a neat half and half black and white design. It wasn’t perfect by a long shot, but she managed to cover up some of the worst sins with strategically-placed oreos.
Wyll: Red velvet. A classic flavor for a classic guy, and executed almost perfectly.
Technical Challenge: Cherry Cake
Bakers will be listed in descending order of success.
Karlach
Lae’zel
Minsc
Jaheira and Shadowheart tied, actually. You decide who gets fourth.
Either Shadowheart or Jaheira, depending on who’s your least favorite lol
Medora
Halsin
Wyll and Gale also tied. Pick your favorite.
Gale or Wyll
Astarion
Dammon
Minthara
Showstopper Challenge: Chocolate Celebration Cake
Astarion: Tiers are lopsided and the texture is claggy, but he did his best to charm the judges and distract them.
Dammon: Not as successful as his signature round, but his piping work was surprisingly delicate.
Gale: Attempted to make a chocolate tribute to Mystra. The sculptural aspect was lacking, but he was one of the few contestants to use ruby chocolate, which was unique.
Halsin: Used even more foraged berries on a white chocolate cake. Very successful.
Jaheira: Dropped her cake before she could finish decorating it. Could not be judged.
Karlach: Put in some cinnamon and chili to make a Mexican hot chocolate cake. Very nice.
Lae’zel: No one knows what dimension that chocolate came from, only that it was amazing. She got a Hollywood Handshake.
Medora: Finally seemed to get with the program and baked a lovely triple-chocolate cake.
Minsc: Despite him not having hair, Boo drove him like it was a scene from Ratatouille and created chocolate perfection. Hollywood Handshakes for both of them.
Minthara: Her cake was very dry and didn’t have enough frosting.
Shadowheart: Insisted her cake be colored black with activated charcoal and got it everywhere.
Wyll: Tried to go for a classic again, and did well, but the judges wondered if he played it too safe.
The Results
Our star baker this week with a total score of 49/60 is: Karlach!
And unfortunately due to her total score of 18/60, Minthara is the first to leave the tent.
And that concludes Cake Week!
Biscuit Week
Bread Week
Pies and Tarts Week
Underdark Week
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At lunch with friends listening to all the slender college kids compare bodies and try to lose weight, watching the overweight fortysomethings and the two seventy-year-olds ignore all of it, being the only college kid who's visibly fat, listening to the others bicker right in front of me, realizing once again that looking like me is their worst nightmare, sorrowing all at once over how much every single person in this room hates their body but I love every one of them so much.
Knowing that my weight came when my family experienced trauma, left (slightly) with self-imposed hateful restrictions, which led to self-harm and to further trauma and weight gain in 8th grade, left again when I had one good year, then skyrocketed in 11th grade when I was assaulted, then went back down with a physical labor job, then came back with the pandemic and college, then went down with an active summer, then came back when I destroyed my ankle, then continued upward with college and pneumonia and the head injury and bronchitis and processing trauma, and went back down when I was too burned out to eat, then went back up with an awful job, then plateaued, then I spent a semester healing my soul and it came with 15 pounds that I swear were worth it, then went back down with physical labor and a vow to fix my relationship with food, then came back with college. And I was back on a downward trend until getting the flu a couple weeks ago and my weight didn't change because my period started and last night I was just exhausted and out of sorts and I binged for the first time in months. Consumed like 2,000 calories of garbage in an hour.
I know I need to take a day of rest. I feel guilty that all the other kids are doing schoolwork while I'm off taking a nap. Actually I'm up here crying, but they don't need to know that.
I know that even when my weight goes down, my shoulders don't get smaller. My hips will still be broad no matter what I do. I wear women's size 12 shoes. Even if I starve 60 pounds off my body and shave my mustache and my legs and start tucking my shirts in and dressing pretty and wearing makeup and wearing push-up bras and curling my hair, they won't accept me. I'll just be a success story to them.
And I'll be another success story for other fat people to beat themselves with.
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Confession: I can never find Darth Maul sexy. Here's why.
The year? 1999.
The president? Some impeached guy from Arkansas who harassed his intern, plays the saxophone, and hit on John Mulaney's mom.
The X-Files? Still on FOX.
And the Phantom Menace is in theatres.
Dr. Meat Muffin is a wee, 13 year old Meat Muffin here. She's on her middle school cheerleading team, is obsessed with Ocarina of Time, and has too many pictures of Kevin from the Backstreet Boys in her locker. Life's good.
She has younger brothers, 7 and 9 years old. They all go to see the Phantom Menace a few times in the theatre with their friends. The film is soundly enjoyed by all.
But especially the two little brothers, as well as their army of smelly, strange little friends*.
Their favorite character? Surely Anakin Skywalker! He's their age! He pod-races! They'll identify with him!
NO. WRONG.
THEY COME OUT OF THAT THEATRE OBSESSED WITH OBI-WAN AND DARTH MAUL.
ESPECIALLY DARTH MAUL.
For the next goddamned YEAR, every long object, from a cardboard tube to a rake, can be a lightsaber!** EVERYONE BOY WANTS TO BE DARTH MAUL. Face paint is on their faces constantly like it's an SEC football game. They get black robes to dress as Maul. One of the brothers even digs through Meat Muffin's accessory drawer until he finds some tribal earrings that can be used as Maul's horns, which infuriates Meat Muffin.
Meat Muffin also constantly babysits this Neverland assortment of deranged boys and their sticks and robes and is driven batty by them constantly playing 'Duel of the Fates' nonstop on the CD player while flinging themselves at each other in the backroom. You know she's paid less then minimum wage.
(God damn it, Mrs. Read, you were such a cheap bitch.)
So, anyway, any time Meat Muffin sees Darth Maul on The Clone Wars or in tasteful fan art, a horrifying, borderline PTSD wave of memories sends her. Tons of little boys yelling, hitting each other, smearing black and red face paint everywhere like it's a Bulls game.
Darth Maul, even with his cool baritone voice, is forever cemented as screaming boys in terrible costumes hitting each other with yardsticks.
Darth Maul was ruined for her FOREVER. And she's envious of the rest of you.
*= They probably were not very smelly or strange in hindsight, but Meat Muffin was a harsh judge of character as a teen.
**=I'm sure that's Freudian but I ain't touching that shit folks.
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