Another week, another short story. Don’t be so bloody glum about it! For this time out we’re exploring the life of Desmond.
He’s a scary monster with a non-scary love for cupcakes.
It just goes to show, in an idiotically obvious theme to this story, that looks can be deceiving. Or can they!? 🧁
A Planet of Genocidal Aliens With a Fondness for Cupcakes
Synopsis: Desmond the monster completes a day of work annihilating a rival alien species, all whilst enjoying cupcakes and setting his sights on love interest Desmonda.
Cast:
- Desmond (protagonist)
- Desmonda (his love interest)
- A planet of Desmonds
- Cupcakes 🧁
Desmond was sad. Then he was happy. Then he ate another cupcake, his 135th that day! He chortled happily to himself as he munched on the delicious cupcake and swallowed it on down with considerable gusto. Then he belched loudly indeed.
Patting his tummy in content, Desmond turned his attention back to matters at hand—enslaving the neighbouring planet’s race of easily manipulated locals.
This was Desmond’s job on his planet, which was the planet Desmond. It’s where all his species live, all of whom share his namesake.
Officially, his title was Senior Marauding Alien Overlord Consultant. Desmond loved this job title as it showed he was better than the junior marauding consultants beneath his skill level. Alongside getting to eat as many cupcakes as he wanted, as well as obliterating and CAPTURING the scumbag bastard no-good rival alien species, he got to carry a space laser! Zap! Zap! ZAP!
Desmond made the ZAP! pose with his gun. No one was around to see him, so why not?!
The rival aliens were known as Fuddy-Duddies, a term at once deeply insulting and debasing to the scumbag bastard no-good rival alien species. AND DESMOND HATED THEM WITH ALL HIS MIGHT!!! HE HATED THEM MORE THAN HE LOVED CUPCAKES!!!!!
Calming himself, as his building rage was so very bad for productivity, he wanted to crack on for the day. It was still only morning, after all!
Feeling full of cupcakes, and with a dastardly sense of tyrannical mayhem on his mind in line with his Supreme Desmond’s megalomaniac plans, Desmond looked at his to-do sheet for the day:
- Destroy Fuddy-Duddies
- Enslave Fuddy-Duddies
- Eat cupcakes
A busy schedule! As with yesterday. And the day before that. But Desmond had made Senior Marauding Alien Overlord Consultant level for a reason! He could cope with the high-level pressure of taking over the neighbouring planet packed out with the scumbag bastard no-good rival alien species.
The problem!?
The Fuddy-Duddies were the sole providers of Desmond’s planet’s supply of cupcakes. Let that sink in for a moment. Yes! This posed the greatest possible existential dilemma for Desmond and his kind—wipe out the Fuddy-Duddies and you also wipe out cupcakes.
He wasn’t sure if he could quite get his head around that.
The Supreme Desmond had made his plans clear—take over and detonate the planet next door, wiping out the Fuddy-Duddies in the process, after which… and that’s the bit where the Supreme Desmond’s tannoy announcements either mysteriously, suddenly, unexpectedly cut off for a bit. Or he’d start mumbling and Desmond couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.
Desmond refused to consider the Supreme Desmond didn’t have a plan. He ALWAYS had a plan. All would be well. He just knew it! Cupcakes galore!
Content in this mindset, Desmond did the pose with the ZAP! gun again.
Mainly because his crush, Desmonda, had walked by his command chamber and had peered in at him. Desmond wanted to look all actiony and important for that moment. He planned to ask her out later so they could make mini-Desmonds and eat cupcakes together as a giant Desmond collective. Perhaps, too, maybe take a romantic trip to the Moon Waterfallia 0.7 astronomical units (AU) away. It was famed for its spectacular waterfalls of yellow flowing water, pink rain, and giant 100ft tall monsters that were super-friendly and just wanted snacks.
Lost in such delightful thoughts, they were broken as Desmond’s subordinate, Desmond (three years his junior), entered his command chamber.
“Desmond, sir!” Said the underling.
“Desmond, good morning. How is Desmond?”
“Desmond is fine, sir, how is your Desmond?”
“Just fine, Desmond! How can I be of assistance?”
“Sir, the Desmonds of command centre eight have noted it’s their Desmond’s birthday today. I propose the Desmonds of all units throw a big birthday party this evening, following on from brutally slaughtering as many Fuddy-Duddies as possible, during which time we can slake our desire to consume as many cupcakes as need be.”
“That is a superb idea, Desmond! Well done. I shall buy the Desmond of command centre eight a special decorated cupcake myself at lunch with his name angled over the top in pleasing fashion. It shall be truly scrumptious! We shall factor this in from nineteen planetary moments from now. Be ready and prepared and ready. We shall party like we did yesterday for Desmond of command centre thirty nine’s birthday.”
“Excellent, sir! I shall inform the other Desmonds!”
“Sterling work, Desmond. Now please excuse yourself, for I have a score of Fuddy-Duddies to boil alive post-lunch and I need to eat some cupcakes to steel my nerves. The VERY SIGHT… OF THOSE BASTARDS!!!! Makes it difficult for me to breathe!!!”
“Indeed, sir! Best of luck to you.”
“I shall need it, Desmond…”
The subordinate Desmond left the command centre. Desmond gathered himself for the boiling alive ceremony. Chocolate drops on a cupcake, their complaining about the whole thing was a chore and a bore. What was their problem!? Desmond was doing them a favour! Yet they demanded NOT to be boiled alive. Such confusing things, Fuddy-Duddies, as on the planet Desmond it was a GREAT HONOUR to boil oneself alive in the name of the Supreme Desmond and cupcakes.
Truly a great honour.
Your name got put on a giant plaque in the capital city square.
Why, Desmond was overlooking the square right now from his command centre! He peered out at the gargantuan plaque soaring 100s of feet into the air! He ruminated over how the Desmonds would all need a new plaque soon, it was packed with 100,000s of names marked into the monument in honour of those boiled alive. Each one marked Desmond as a unique identifier.
Desmond shed a tear at the beauty of the moment.
Then he opened the drawer from his desk and pulled out a cupcake. He ate it with relish. He wanted more! So, he got 13 more cupcakes out of other drawers and scoffed them all down! Then he burped very loudly indeed.
He was ready for the boilings! Turning, he saw in the doorway up ahead the Desmonda of his dreams. The same from before!
“Desmond?”
“Yes, that is my name. Is yours Desmonda?”
“Yes, my name is Desmonda. How did you know!?”
Desmond blushed a cherry on top of a cupcake hue. The only way he could have known is by checking her social media profile on the platform Desmond. Gosh, she’d work that out quickly enough… the only way to stop that would be to boil her alive for loose charges on sedition with the Fuddy-Duddies. But he fancied this Desmonda very much! And there wouldn’t be much left to fancy if she ended up in one of those big pots with that superheated water stuff.
Nope, no boiling for Desmonda!
Instead, Desmond pulled forth his favourite cupcake brand. One he was keeping for a special occasion at the end of the week ahead of the weekend. He decided this one, with a cherry atop of it and sprinkled with hundreds and thousands, would be a romantic offering to Desmonda.
He brought it forth to her and gestured for her to take it.
She did so, munching it down, then belching heartily. Desmond swooned in wonder, for in Desmond culture that is the first sign of marriage on the horizon! He felt light-hearted in glee! He skipped a little on the spot! Desmonda blushed, then belched violently again.
Desmond couldn’t believe it… what a day! All of his dreams coming true.
Certain the nature of perfection was real and his free will had ascertained this state of affairs, Desmond yanked out his space laser, made the ZAP! pose one final time, and marched off to boil the heathen Fuddy-Duddies that blighted his very soul.
