Twelve Angry Doughnuts


by Thomas Styles


Email: tstyles1@nycap.rr.com




There they were, twelve doughnuts packed in a box ready to be taken home to a small crowd of hungry humans. There were six glazed, three strawberry frosted, one double chocolate, one plain, and a jelly.

None of them was happy – especially the plain. He believed he would be the first to be gobbled up.

“Please, Lord,” cried Plain Doughnut. “I was just fried to life twelve hours ago! I've barely had a chance to explore and I'm no sooner going to meet my death! Spare me. Spare me!”

“Shut up, Plain,” shouted Jelly. “They only pulled me from the grease two hours ago. I thought they were dusting me with baby powder so I was fresh for my new owners. Imagine how I felt when I realized it was sugar they were putting all over me so I would taste better. I'll be the first to go. You're lucky if you get eaten at all. Nobody likes a nasty, plain old doughnut.”

“Somebody must,” Plain cried. “One of the glazed said I'm popular with coffee.”          

“It's true,” added a glazed. “You're a dunker.”

“What's a dunker?” Plain asked.

“The humans dunk you in hot coffee before they eat you.”

“No!” Plain cried. “It can't be. I'll be burned alive before I'm eaten. I have to get out. I have to get out!”

Plain wiggled and jiggled. This upset Double Chocolate.

“Quit whining and be brave to the end,” scolded Double Chocolate. “It's our purpose.”

“Which one of us do you think will make it to the garbage?” asked one of the strawberry frosted.

“I'll put my money on a glazed,” said Double Chocolate. “Who's going to eat six glazed doughnuts? I'll bet three of them stale up and get thrown away.”

“Stale up?” said one of the newer glazed.

“You didn't think you were going to stay fresh forever, did you?” asked Double Chocolate. “No, sir. If you're not eaten right away you'll start to harden. Your glazed coating will crack and you'll go solid straight through until you're as hard as a briquette.”

There was a few seconds of silence.

“Help!” shouted the glazed.

“Mercy!” cried Plain.

“Quiet!” screamed Double Chocolate. “All of you! Now. Silence!”

Plain and the glazed quieted down. Jelly sighed. “Well, at least I get to squirt my guts all over someone's face before it's over. I just hope I'm still alive to see it.”

One of the strawberry frosted laughed at him. “Your guts, friend, happen to be what the humans like most about you. They love it when your sticky, tasty insides shoot out all over their wet lips. If you're still alive after the first bite the only thing you'll see is a big fat tongue being used as a shovel to spoon your guts into a wide black hole of a mouth.”

“I feel sick,” said Jelly.

“That's not so bad,” said Double Chocolate. “Before I get bitten I was told the frosting is going to be licked off me. I'll be covered with spit before I'm finally picked apart nibble by nibble. Now, does that make you feel a little better, Plain?”

There was short silence.

“Dunked and burned! Burned!”

“Oh, brother. What's the use of complaining?” said a glazed. “Even if any of us escape we're designed to turn into a briquette.”

“Awful,” said a strawberry frosted.

“Terrible,” said a glazed.

“Unspeakable,” said Double Chocolate.

“Burned!” screamed Plain.

“Everyone quiet!” yelled a strawberry frosted. “The car stopped. I think we're at the cemetery.”

“Already?” said Plain frantically. “We just got in the car. How could we be at the cemetery already?”

“Actually,” said a glazed, “we're not at the cemetery. We're at the torture chamber. The cemetery will be in the stomach of whoever eats us.”

“Oh, no,” said Jelly. “I'm going to puke.”

Jelly let go some of his insides, which landed on Double Chocolate.

“Oh, great, you fool,” he yelled. “Now I'll look even more good to eat. If you put another glob on me like that I'll rub chocolate frosting all over you. And quit touching me. You're getting sugar on my coat.”

“Excuse me,” the tearful Jelly replied. “I'm just a little upset right now. We're about to be eaten.”

 “Get over it,” said Double Chocolate. “At least we die knowing that we make the humans fat. In fact, it's after our death that we do the most damage to those selfish, ravenous beasts. So, I say bring it on!”

“Shhh,” cried a glazed. “He's got us. We're being taken into the house. We have a good chance if it's a small family. If there are more than four faces hovering over the box when the lid comes off then we've all had it.”

The twelve doughnuts jostled around inside the box as the human carried them into the house. Jelly accidentally doused Double Chocolate with another glob of goo, while one of the strawberry frosted smeared a glazed with his frosted topping.

“What's wrong with this guy?” asked Plain. “Is he climbing a mountain?” “Maybe he'll drop us and we'll all be spoiled,” said a glazed.

Just then there was a creaking sound and a few muffled cries.

“Daddy!” said one.

“Mommy!” said another. “Dad's back with the doughnuts.”

“Go tell Tim, Ric, Dave, and Anna that breakfast is here,” said Dad.

“Did he say Tim, Ric, Dave, and . . . ”

“Anna,” Double Chocolate finished. “We're done for.”

“That means there are eight people!” Plain said. “And I smell something familiar.”

“Coffee,” said a glazed.

“Oh, no,” Plain whined. “Not coffee! No coffee. Coffee is bad. Bad coffee.”

Dad placed the box of doughnuts down on the table with a thud.

“Any last words?” asked Double Chocolate.

“How does my powder look?” asked Jelly.

“You're beautiful,” said Double Chocolate. He gave her a light kiss, thus smearing some of his chocolate frosting on her dusty body.

“You did that on purpose,” she complained.

“I did not,” Double Chocolate said.

As they were arguing, the box top was taken off. The twelve angry doughnuts looked upward. There were eight faces staring down at them.

Seconds later the horrible feast began. In the matter of ten seconds three glazed, the two strawberry frosted, Plain, Jelly, and Double Chocolate were snatched from the comforts of their home.

Plain screamed as a woman placed him onto her napkin, which was on the table. She left him alone for a moment, and when she returned she was carrying a mug of steaming coffee. She placed it next to him and then picked him up with a thumb and index finger.

“No, please. Not the coffee. Not the coffee.”

As she lowered him closer to the surface of the drink he continued with his pleas.

“Not the coffee!”


“Ahhhhhhhh,” he yelled.


“Ouch! My side. What did you do to my side?”


“Ahhhhhh,” he yelled again.


Plain was no more.

Double Chocolate closed his eyes. He couldn't watch. Little Timmy was taking his time licking off all Double's chocolate. Spit was dripping down his crusted side and little teeth scraped at the surface of his head. It didn't feel that bad until he felt a little nibble.

“What was that?” Double Chocolate asked. “You bit me. That hurt more than I thought.”


“Wait. You'll get fat. Not another bite. You hear me. Not another bite! I command you to put me down, insolent one!”


Jelly listened in quiet to Double Chocolate's screams as he was taken apart piece by piece. A short time later, a little girl who didn't seem to mind that his guts and sugary powder were all over her face nearly swallowed him whole.

Yes, one by one the remaining doughnuts went to their doom. In the end it was only the two glazed left in the box to keep one another company.

“I . . .can't . . . move,” one said.

“Neither . . . can I. When are . . .they going . . . to throw us out? It's been . . . two days.”

“Who . . . cares?”

 By night's end, the two remaining glazed were solid straight through.

Such is the life of a doughnut.

©2004 Thomas Styles

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