Fan Fiction

Our own Big Flax has worked up the ultimate in snack cake fiction – The Da Twinkie Code, which you can read right here.  A dangerous terrorist group has resurfaced after decades, and it’s up to snackologist Roger Lincoln to crack the code that can save the snack world’s best-loved cake.  Is he up to the challenge?  Find out… in The Da Twinkie Code!

You can also submit your own snack cake fan fiction by commenting below!

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6 Responses to Fan Fiction

  1. DJ Mbarky says:

    Ho-Ho/Tasty Cake

    Ho-ho eyed Tasty Cake from across the cupboard. He hadn’t thought about actually liking creamy filling before, but now he couldn’t get the partially hydrogenated sugariness of Tasty’s insides out of his mind. What was he thinking? Tasty Cake was his friend! And besides, Tasty didn’t like chocolate “that way”. Or did he?

  2. BigFlax says:

    Jason Drake stared out from the cockpit of the Argo-7, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. It had been a daring raid on the Empire’s stores, but no one was giving chase. Drake wasn’t surprised. It was arrogant of the Empire to assume that no one would discover their stockpiles were located on Kawain Beta, and they had compounded that arrogance by guarding them lightly. Drake and his crew had slipped in under cover of night, loaded the Argo to capacity, and been out again without encountering so much as a single sentry. In the back of Drake’s mind, something seemed wrong – it was too easy. But with no other ships on radar, the coast seemed to be clear.

    Below, the rest of the crew was alternately sleeping and helping to monitor the quadrant. The navigator, Debbie Mercer, was finishing loading the fastest course back to Rezing V. It would soon take the ship through the Gespon system, one of the Empire’s key military strongholds. Debbie frowned as she finished typing in the coordinates. Why were the fastest routes always the most dangerous? She made the last keystroke and sat back in her chair. At least if anything happens, Jason Drake is in charge, she thought.

    The Argo entered the Gespon system with a small stream of other traffic. By Gespon standards, very little was happening – there was a small contingent of ships in the orbit of Gespon Beta, but the usual military presence was nowhere to be seen. Drake felt his skin begin to prickle. He had a bad feeling about this. “Someone check the news feed for news of a battle in another system!” he called. “Why?” Debbie asked. “Because if there isn’t one…” Drake trailed off. Checking the news feed wasn’t going to be necessary anymore.

    In an instant, Empire ships appeared from behind each of Gespon Beta’s twelve moons. They had been lying in wait. Laser blasts began to fire at the Argo. A small craft just to the right of Drake’s view from the cockpit was hit and blasted to pieces. “Hold on!” Drake yelled, grabbing the helm. “Debbie! Disengage autopilot!” Debbie quickly flipped the switch, and the Argo lurched left as Drake steered as sharply away from Gespon Beta as he could. The Empire fleet gave chase, with charges exploding all around, rocking the ship.

    Marshall Lowman and Jett Freshley, the two gunners on board, raced to the back of the ship and manned their turrets. The Argo had been designed as a light craft and did not carry major weaponry, but suppressive fire was needed to make the jump to hyperspeed, which the ship couldn’t do with Imperial charges detonating on every side. There was no point trying to take out Imperial ships or get into a bigger battle, and Lowman and Freshley knew it. They simply laid fire across the bows of the nearest Imperial ships; it didn’t do any real damage, but it distracted the ships’ captains and gunners enough to stem the tide of charges for a moment. “Go!” Freshley yelled.

    Jumping to and traveling at hyperspeed consumes a lot of fuel, and Drake had been hoping to avoid it, but he had no choice. Calculation showed that with the amount of fuel on the ship, he could reach as far as Urstel – it wasn’t Rezing V, but it was closer than they were now, and it was an area which had very little Imperial presence. The blinking button for hyperspeed was ready. He pressed it.

    Like a shot, the Argo vanished from the tracking screen of the King Don. Admiral Allin winced. “Where have they gone?” The tracking operator turned. “They appear to have jumped to hyperspeed, sir. Our estimates of their fuel suggest they could be at any system within six parsecs of Gespon.” Admiral Allin winced again. “Emperor Gond won’t be happy.” He turned away from the screen.

    The Argo popped into the middle of the Urstel system, finding it expectedly deserted. Drake went below to congratulate everyone on the narrow escape. “I think this calls for a little celebration,” he said. “What do you say we break them out?” Debbie and the gunners looked at each other. “Do you really think we should?” Debbie said. “I mean, the whole point of this run was to supply Rezing V…”

    “We’ll have one each,” Drake said. “Come on, I haven’t had a Twinkie in almost as long as anyone on Rezing V. We’ve earned this.”

    They went to the hold, where dozens of crates of Twinkies, seized by the Empire and hoarded on a distant planet, now sat waiting to be returned to Rezing V, one of the last strongholds of the resistance. Drake cracked open the nearest crate, pulled out a box, and drew four Twinkies, individually wrapped in plastic, out of the box and handed them around. Lowman opened his first and inhaled deeply. “Just like I remember,” he sighed. “How long has it been?”

    “Fifteen years,” Debbie said, opening her wrapper. “Pretty impressive, even for a Twinkie.”

    “The Empire’s kept them in suspended animation,” Drake said. “They couldn’t go bad. I just wish I knew why they really wanted them – you’d think if the only goal was to demoralize the resistance they’d have destroyed them all.” He took a bite, then yelped in pain as he crunched on a piece of metal.

    “What is it?” Debbie asked. Drake reached into his mouth and pulled out a small tracking device, the red light starting to fade as the device had been smashed by Drake’s teeth. “Oh, God,” Freshley muttered.

    “Get me a detector, now,” Drake barked, still holding his jaw in pain. Lowman ran up and grabbed a metal detector from the equipment room, then ran it around each crate. Sure enough, a beep emitted from the detector as it passed over every single box.

    “Tracking devices inside the Twinkies?” Debbie asked. “How did they even manage to do that and get the plastic back on?”

    “I don’t know,” Drake said. “But we can’t keep these. They’ll be after us again and right now we’re sitting ducks.”

    The others protested – surely the Empire was expecting them to go to Rezing V no matter what! But Drake held firm. He ordered everyone out of the hold, sealed the door, and then jettisoned the cargo. Lowman and Freshley sat in their turrets and watched sadly as crate after crate of precious Twinkies drifted out into space.

    Drake sat sullenly at his console. Debbie approached and put her hand on his. “It was probably the right decision,” she said. “It might take Lowman and Freshley a while to get over it, but I have faith in you. We’ll figure something else out.”

    “You bet we will,” Drake said. “The Empire got the best of us this time, but they’ve got more Twinkies to recover. And next time, we’ll be ready.”

    TO BE CONTINUED?

  3. Rick Stoeckel says:

    Butterscotch Krimpet slowly drew his gun from his holster and entered the dark apartment.

    Boom! Boom! Two bullets flew past his head. He felt his head, and he was bleeding a bit of icing.

    “Fuck you, you Fuck!” came a voice from the kitchen.

    Butterscotch dove behind a armchair and cocked his weapon. For a while only deep breathing filled the room. Oreo Cakester had come searching for the drug money.

    “I want my half,” he said.

    “I’ve got your half right here,” Butterscotch answered, kissing his pistol.

    Boom! Boom! – Oreo Cakesters head began leaking cake cream, and he fell hard. Butterscotch Krimpet proceeded to urinate on his moist, cake body.

  4. Chris Quinn says:

    You guys are amazing! Those are brilliant.

  5. BK says:

    The snow falling on the city began to slow and taper just after midnight. The green and red neon lights shining from the window of a lonely bar sprayed the white blanket with color. In the doorway a grizzled man appeared taking the last drag of a cigarette and spitting into the snow. As the smoke swirled around his head, his trenchcoat gently brushed up against the snowy sidewalk as he flicked his cigarette into the street.

    Walking around the corner, the rough bricks of the building and the dingy residue matched his his mood. Three days stubble matched a wicked hangover from too much scotch the night before. As he turned the corner into the alley, he saw the reason he was dragged out on a miserable and cold night standing in between a dumpster and the steam of a building vent.

    “You look like hell …” The man by the dumpster said with a smirk.

    “Get bent Suzy Q…” Yodel spit into the melting snow near the building vent. “…do you have a job for me or did you drag me out here to shovel your driveway…”

    Suzy Q produced a 8×11 brown envelope from under her slinky grey longcoat and tossed it to Yodel, who caught it clumsily. As Yodel opened the envelope, he pulled the contents out, three black and white photographs.

    “Not bad… what did the kid do…?” Yodel eyed the photograph of a lithe Twinkie, basking naked in the sun, his skin a healthy yellow.

    “Cheated on me with some fucking Ho-Ho…” Suzy Q angrily pulled out the other photograph of a decadent chocolate cake, showing only the slightest swirl of white frosting covering her entire top. The third photo revealed through the slats of a motel room window showed Twinkie and Ho-Ho locked in mutual orgasmic ecstasy, cream filling sprayed all over the room.

    “You want ’em quick?” Yodel smirked as he tucked the photos back into his envelope and into his jacket.

    “I want them to suffer….badly…” Suzy Q quickly regained her composure. Taking out some lipstick and applying it in front of Yodel she added “…and I’ll pay triple…” kissing her lips together in a wry smile did little to hide the venom and pain in her eyes.

    “…triple huh…?” Yodel tucked his hands in his jacket pocket and turned back toward the street.

    “Is that a problem?” She paused on her heel anxiously awaiting a response.

    “…no….” After hearing Yodel, Suzy Q turned and walked out of the alley in the opposite direction. Taking a Rolaids out of his pocket and popping several into his mouth, Yodel walked into the light falling snow with a menacing look in his eyes. “…no problem at all…..”

  6. Tim says:

    It was the tastiest of times, it was the not-so-tastiest of times, it was the age of tasty cakes, it was the age of not-so-tasty cakes, it was the epoch of deliciousness, it was the epoch of not-so-deliciousness, it was the season of vanilla, it was the season of chocolate, it was the summer of hope, it was the winter of despair…

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