A Chicago father known as Daddy openly wept over the sudden, violent end of his flour baby “son” Otis, while authorities gathered evidence pointing to the man’s actual son, Bub, as the assailant.
“Yeah, it’s a real tragedy,” Bub said, munching on a freshly-baked crumpet. “Could you pass the marmalade?”
Otis, described as a five pound bag of Gold Medal, was last seen in his entirety Tuesday night, when Daddy put him in Bub’s crib at 11:00. The two had shared the crib for the past three weeks, since Daddy introduced Otis into the family as “friendly competition” to his son.
“Does no one else find the Gold Medal part massively ironic?” Bub said. “No? Just me? Oh, okay.”
Aside from his recent penchant for baked goods, police began to suspect Bub after his entire crib was literally covered in flour.
“It looked like Charlie Sheen’s birthday in there,” Detective Claude Rains said. “Minus the tassles.”
“Okay, you got me, fine. I shanked him,” Bub said, flatly. “He bled out pretty quick. Mostly into this pre-greased muffin tin.”
Detective Rains said no charges would be filed against Bub, because despite numerous status-change bids by the National Flour Baby Society, flour is still classified as “just a fucking sack of flour.”
“No man should outlive his sack,” Daddy said pensively. He then added, “Mmm, do I smell blackberry scones?”
The incident, if nothing else, provided a rare opportunity for Daddy and son to break Otis together.
“Yes, if Otis were here, he might say, ‘Why hast thou desserted me, brother?’” Bub said. “Get it? Dessert-ed? Come on, that’s rich.”
Daddy did not get it. But when asked if he had any misgivings about eating his former son, Daddy wiped little Otis crumbs from his beard and maintained it’s what he would have wanted. “Truly all purpose,” he said. “A son, a friend, and a tasty shortcake.”