A month or so ago someone else was posting about practical jokes. I thought back to my younger days and remembered I had once worked with a pair of jokers. We played the run of typical office jokes (switch key caps, change settings to the Dvorak keyboard, toilet paper a cube, all the classics). They also flipped my (non-modular) office desk about so all the drawer pulls were against the wall.
I wondered why I stopped sparring with those cute boys, then I remembered I had won our merry war. After that, of course, Silas and Stephen stopped pranking me because there was no way they could top me.
I had the element of surprise on my side. All our battles had been fought on office grounds. One day, though, Stephen slipped up and told Silas and I that he was going to send an entry in to the Pillsbury Bake-off.
“For my Pizza Thangs.” (Stephen was southern.)
“What’s a Pizza Thing?” Silas asked.
Stephen explained he would take Pillsbury crescent roll dough, and roll up mozzarella and pepperoni, then slice it into rounds. And bake in a pre-heated 375 degree oven. Until golden-brown.
We both encouraged Stephen to send in the Pizza Things recipe. Silas encouraged him because Silas was sweet; I encouraged him because my Great-Aunt Rosemary had retired from Pillsbury and now sent all her personal correspondence on pilfered Pillsbury stationery.
So after a visit to the Kinkos color copier I typed up a rejection letter from the fine people at the Pillsbury Bake-Off Committee on my new letterhead.
Dear Sir:
We have reviewed your entry for “Pizza Thing” Canapes. We regret to inform you that your submission will not advance through our review process, as it has not met the standards we expect of a Pillsbury Bake-Off submission. For example, it has absolutely no nutritional value. Pillsbury is committed to families and good health. We sincerely hope you are not feeding Pizza Things to children.
Additionally, if someone wanted to eat mozzarella and pepperoni they could purchase Totino’s® Pizza Rolls® Snacks, another fine Pillsbury product.
Pizza Things are quite possibly the worst entry we have ever seen. Please refrain from making any more Bake-Off submissions in the future. We suggest you stop cooking entirely.
Cordially,
L. N. S_______
Bake-Off Facilitator
Then I had a friend mail it from California, and I waited. I waited for Stephen to come in to the office as wild as my boyfriend Michael had been when I stuck the Reagan/Bush bumper sticker to his car. But I could only wait so long. After a month I said,
“Stephen! What ever happened with the Bake-Off? Did you win?” and I grinned.
“Yeah,” Silas added, “Did you ever hear anything?”
Stephen said, “Oh, I got this really snotty letter from them!”
My smile dropped. I said, “You have got to be kidding me.”
“No, you guys, I felt so bad. They were all, ‘Don’t ever cook again.’”
Silas said, “Wow.”
I sighed and said, “Did you happen to notice the signature?”
“No.”
“Did you happen to notice the letter was from someone named ‘L. N.?’”
“Huh?”
“L. N. .. a Bake-off Facilitator named L. N. … L. N. … Ellllll…ennnnnn.”
Silas caught on first, then he and I had a lovely moment reveling in Stephen’s confusion. Eventually he said, “Oh thank God. I thought I was a really bad cook.” Then of course he was appropriately outraged, and it was sweeter because who would not catch on that that was a joke?
The sad ending was that no one ever even tried to retaliate. It is lonely to be Queen.
9 responses to “And Then I Retired My Number”
Years ago Ryan once crafted a letter to his friend Shaft (not his real name, of course) that made it look like he was going to be hauled in to court for statutory rape (Shaft was/is a total drunk and often didn’t remember anything). When it arrived in the mail, Shaft thought it was real and was so freaked out they had to immediately give him the second letter that said the exact same thing except it was for raping a sheep because they were afraid Shaft was going to hurt himself. Thankfully once Shaft read about the sheep, he calmed down and they took him out and bought him a lot of beer.
Faythe – Yikes! I at least tried to make mine ridiculous enough he would get it – but evidently I wasn’t counting on his poor self-esteem, like Ryan and his friend.
I particularly liked the suggestion to try Totino’s. You are most definitely the Queen.
Dang, it sucks when you have to explain the joke.
Too bad you didn’t have a friend in Minneapolis. I used to travel there frequently to work in the Pillsbury building. I never saw him, but heard that many of my co-workers had shared elevators with the Dough Boy himself. There was a bakery in the lobby had that had to-die-for vanilla muffins.
Awesome.
Elli – Have you tried them? They are nasty..75 – Yes, it does. I probably should have dropped it after “did you notice the signature” and let him figure it out.Caroline – Wow. I met FredBird in the halls of the old Busch stadium once. Theres a whole internal hallway thing that I never saw before.
Fortunately for those of us down under, Australia seems to be Totino’s-free. I may have been tried them through other pizza-bite osmosis though.
Elli – It isn’t Pillsbury free, though, is it? I hate to think pf a land without the Doughboy and his giggle.