In a previous post, I introduced my readers to the twenty-first century superhero, Fudgenado. Here is how that superhero came to be:
Some say it was a Monday. Some say Wednesday. Still others Friday. In truth, it was Sunday. Late Sunday night with midnight closing in. Jasper Cookster, chocolatier-in-chief of Chocolatetown, had spent the last thirteen hours working on a new fudge recipe. He was on his hundredth try.
As all stories like this begin, it was indeed a dark and stormy night. Besides that, there was a tornado on the way to Chocolatetown. There was thunder and flashes of lightning on the horizon. But Jasper Cookster was so engrossed in his recipe-making, he didn’t have a clue about what was about to hit Chocolatetown.
All he knew was that this recipe had better work. For thirteen hours, he had been at his work, stirring in this ingredient and that ingredient and the other ingredient. And none had that fudgelishous taste that said, “Jasper.”
Jasper leaned over and tossed in his last ingredient for the piece de resistance batch he was making. The thunder thundered. The lightning lightninged. And a tornado hovered above the Chocolate Store where Jasper was in mortal combat with his recipe. “This had better work,” he mumbled. “This had better work.”
As we all know, those are abracadabara, shazam words that make magic. And magic did happen as the clock struck midnight. Only it wasn’t the magic Jasper was expecting. The thunder ka-boomed. The tornado touched down. The lightning struck and hit Jasper right in his tushie.
Jasper fell into the large tub of fudge goop that was a-stirring. He went under. Just as he did, the lightning hit the tub. The tornado then picked up the tub and Jasper and sailed off into the west a la Dorothy. Two miles out of town, it gently set the tub onto a pasture.
Now that tub may not have been the home of an fudge excellence, but it was the birthplace of a new superhero. Out of the fudge razzmatazz, Jasper flew. Only he wasn’t Jasper. He was a creature covered with brown fudge goop covering his entire body from the end of his big toenails to the tippy toppy hair on his head. He rose spiralling in the sky and headed towards Chocolatetown.
As he moved like a meteor across the sky, Farmer Brown, from his bed through the bedroom window, looked up in the sky and saw what he saw. As he did, he was moved to say, “It’s a bird. It’s a plane.”
His wife said from her sleep, “No it’s not. It’s a fudgenado. Now go back to sleep. The rooster will be crowing in six hours.”
From her bedroom window, Latisha, Farmer Brown’s nubile daughter, had been wishing upon a star. Only there wasn’t a star. She was about to wish for her Prince Charming to come and swoop her away from slopping hogs and milking cows and all the other farm chores an only child had to do. She saw the meteor as it flashed across the sky. Right then and right there, she knew she had seen her future. She was ready to walk down the candy lane aisle and say her I-doeses to the world’s first twenty-first century hero. She was ready to become Mrs. Fudgenado.