The Fruitcake Horror Story

When Luis and I first moved in together we made the mistake of telling his father, who promptly turned around and with only the dopey "let's hide the embarrassment of my good Roman Catholic son shacking up with someone", he told the whole family we got married.

He might have clued us in on the secret - if only so I could of squashed that idea before it hit the masses, but no. And since he never saw fit to tell us, I ended up sending out thank you cads to all for the housewarming gifts but, no, we are not married. Someday we might get married, but not for a long time. Twenty-two and a half years later, here we are. Still happy, still (much to the consternation of practically the whole Gómez clan) not married. Neither Luis and I nor Anna and Kirk have gotten formally married and none of us have any plans to have children!

GASP!

Yes, isn't that something. I believe that Luis Senior has come to terms with it, but I know his siblings rub in how many kids and grandkids they've got and his two kids are it - the end of the line. In some ways it is too bad - this is the most normal, wel-balanced branch of the family, while the overwhelmingly religious side... well, it is too late. They've gone and spread that nutsy part of the gene pool around and once it is out there, there is no getting it back... unless they all marry heretics! Maybe there is some shred of hope after all!

(For those you who Read Question #2 from Cat in Saturday Six: Episode #397, these are the people you were talking about. They, however, can quote it; but live it? Never!)

Well, I am glad I let all that out. As usual, I went off into the ether on my own, and strayed from the real topic at hand. So, without further ado, I give you something so.... HORRIBLE...

.....TERRIFYING.....














....DEATH-DEFYING.....













....DISGUSTING....












....FAMILIES SHRINK BACK IN FEAR.....











IT IS-------

THE DREADED FRUITCAKE!!

Lock up your daughter! Hide your farm animals! Send your sons to neighbours whom you know won't get any similar visitations!

How's that for a great build up on the most frightening mail bombs of all!

A friend of mine and I have a theory that there is one and only one fruitcake that travels the world seeking to arrive at the house of the unwary. When a small bit is eaten (and promptly spit out), it regrows the missing piece, and under the guise of being thrown out, it slips back out into the night... never to be seen again!

Sounds like a scary nighttime story you tell kids, doesn't it?

Having tasted one, I believe that. How gruesome to think anyone would ever want to re-create that kind of horror!