Herman the Evil Yeast

You may have heard about how I convinced Evil to return to life. Then again, you may not have done. Therefore, let me tell you the true story of Evil's resurrection.

So it was that Sunday evening saw a meeting of most of us. At this meeting, EMoC happened to be carrying a small box of sludge. The minute she spotted me, she practically screamed a question at me. Asking her to repeat it slowly and more clearly, I eventually made out: "Would you like some Herman? Here, have some Herman."

Herman, it turns out, is the name of the gloop that populated the plastic tub. Apparently he turns into a cake if you look after him. Coathanger had a slice of cake with her, and I proceeded to eat it all over the course of the evening. Yum.

It seems that what Herman I had just recieved was the last remaining quarter of the old batch, a greatly exaggerated amount of sludgy slime. Evil had killed the half that didn't make it. Feeling more than a little sorry, I said that I'd think about it. But Evil seemed rather desperate to pack this lump off. So I laid down an ultimatum: I would relieve her of Herman, and she would post on the blog at least once a week for the rest of her life. Cautiously accepting, I skipped off home, quite happy. I had reacquired a blogger and gained a growing cake.

The only thing wrong with this whole set-up is that the cake appears to be a lie. Herman even now sits on my kitchen countertop, sat in a bowl covered by a tablecloth. And he's evil.

For starters, he's a yeasty creature, so he makes everything smell like a brewery. Second, he has quite obviously been tampered with by Matt. It bubbles, and that's a sure sign that the resident witch has been up to his usual tricks. (Yes, Matt's a witch. Don't give me any of that wizard stick - Matt's a witch.) And thirdly - and perhaps most importantly - I think it may be plotting to take over the world. It gives me evil looks, and appears to be growing. Perhaps this is the point, but I swear to you that eyes are not normal. Granted, I squish them, but they exist at points in time. That's bad enough.

So now I'm growing a cake that's liable to become superintelligent and achieve world domination. Wonderful. And I'm supposed to eat a quarter of the finished product and hand off the rest to others? Yeesh... This is going to become a worldwide problem very soon.

In, say, four days, I will have a fully-grown Herman in my kitchen. I hope it won't eat me. One thing's for sure, though - it has an uncanny likeness to Flubber.

The cake is a lie, peeps - it's evil!