An overwhelming victory for Sitting Blob in the Battle of Little Bigbutt.
The battle began with Custard’s forces on the attack. White top separated slightly from the rest of the box, through which sliver of a passage floats the nefarious scent of Thursday Morning Office Donuts. They were fresh and warm, in other words – fighting dirty. They were great in number, I’d say a baker’s dozen, and they weren’t going down easy. They weren’t going to be refused without consideration because they arrived early on the scene, not mid-to-late morning when opponents know they can simply push on through to lunch; they weren’t covered in freaky maple frosting, cloaking their baked-fried goodness beneath sickeningly sweet and easily resisted syrup; and they sure weren’t day-olds.
Office mates were deeply shocked by Custard’s defeat and by the toll of other donuts left untouched. There was an attempted surprise attack, with one office mate having specifically chosen special donuts for each co-worker based on weeks of carefully-conducted recon pertaining to individual preferences. However, Sitting Blob was hostile to any infiltration of breakfast pastries, specially selected or otherwise.
The surprise attack later gave way to prolonged siege. Donuts, even Custard himself, remained vigilantly steadfast in their assault. Resting, waiting, uneaten and undettered from an all-out assault on office dieters, until well past lunchtime. Weakened by the unlucky convergence of a midday sugar-crash and snack time, Sitting Blob’s resolve was significantly threatened.
Trumpets sounded the arrival of friendly reserves, however, and a well-timed granola bar and fat-free mocha redoubled Sitting Blob’s resistance against the evil imperialistic pastry power. In the end, bruised but not beaten, Sitting Blob reigned victorious for the first time in the history of the long-standing opposition.
People, I passed on the donut!
[For any semblance of historical parallel, credit: Battle of Little Bighorn]