The Lowly Funnel Cake’s Resemblance to a Plate Full of Beignets has Created
a Strong Backlash Against it, Especially Outside of the Southern United States
Where it Reigns Supreme, Second Only to the Glazed Donut
Written 5 July, 2008
A Three-Donut Vacation
XIX: A Rivalry Ends
A lump had been building in my throat. Now I was weeping uncontrollably. I threw myself into my lover’s arms.
“Oh, Sweetie,” I cried, hot tears burning my cheeks. “Isn’t that the saddest story you ever heard?”
BonBon stiffened visibly. Even his mustaches seemed to stand on end.
“Oops!” I said. “I mean—uh, Agent Fashionista Bandit, I’ve never heard such a woeful tale!”
BonBon was staring suspiciously at Sweetie.
“That name!” cried BonBon! “I know that name!”
“You mean Fashionista Bandit?” I asked hopefully.
“Non! Sweetie! That is a name on which I have sworn vengeance!” He relaxed a bit. “But I suppose there are many Sweeties in this wide world.”
“I’m sure there are LOTS and LOTS of Sweeties with Ph.D.s in donutology!” I said. “Oops again!”
BonBon’s mustaches were once again standing at attention. He glared at Sweetie. “Donutology! Your degree is in the pastry sciences? I find that more than coincidental!” His eyes narrowed. “And what was the topic of your dissertation?”
Before I could insert my foot even further into my mouth (I had planned to throw him off the scent by claiming Sweetie’s specialty was the much-maligned funnel cake), Sweetie said to BonBon, “I think you know the subject of my dissertation.”
“So it’s you!” BonBon exclaimed. “Do you realize what you have done?”
“I have revolutionized the world of confections,” said Sweetie, smugly.
“Yes, but at what cost?”
“True, the beignet is no longer at the apex of the dessert food chain,” said Sweetie, “but it’s still a noble pastry.”
“You really think so?” asked BonBon.
“I do. And you must remember, we both live in Republics. France no longer has a king. ”
“Yes!” cried BonBon. “Liberté! Equalité! Fraternité!”
“Countries where donuts and beignets can live side by side in harmony!” cried Sweetie.
“Yes!” said BonBon. “And so I do not need to kill you!” He looked with disgust at the beignet in his hands and hurled it down the hall. Sweetie’s hand dropped from the hilt of her katana. The beignet exploded.
BonBon rushed forward and embraced Sweetie, pressing her close. “We are,” he said, “fellow sojourners, leading the way for others in the culinary arts,” and he kissed her on both cheeks. And just like that, a bitter rivalry was at an end.