Townsfolk commentary included, because Piedmont never lets foolishness pass without documentation.
A Piedmont Lantern Story
If there was one event Piedmont took seriously, it was the Annual Spring Bake-Off at the Methodist Fellowship Hall. Folks treated it like a culinary showdown at high noon. Flour flew. Frostin’ hardened. Judges readied their palates like surgeons preparin’ for heart surgery.
And that was exactly why Jimmy Matthew and Jim Leroy should never have been allowed within fifty feet of it.
But fate intervened in the form of Miss Loretta McVee, who cornered them outside Lively’s Grocery and said these immortal words:
“Boys, I reckon you got strong backs and no common sense. Come help us unload supplies for the bake-off.”
They heard “help,” but what stuck in their heads was “bake-off.”
Their eyes gleamed.
Lord help Piedmont.
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The Plan Forms
The boys met behind the fellowship hall, where the dumpsters lived out their quiet and dignified retirement.
“Jimmy,” Jim Leroy said, “I reckon we oughta enter the contest.”
“We cain’t cook,” Jimmy replied.
“Well, neither can half the men in town, and they still enter. Why not us?”
Jimmy scratched his chin.
“We need somethin’ show-stoppin’. Somethin’ folks will talk about for years.”
“Like a cake shaped like Dugger Mountain?”
Jimmy grinned.
“More like a cake that erupts. A volcano cake. With real smoke.”
Jim Leroy’s eyebrows arched so high they nearly left his head.
“You think we can make a smokin’ cake?”
“No,” Jimmy said, “but we can make a cake that has smoke near it.”
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The Attempt
Step one was findin’ a cake.
Neither boy wanted to bake, so they “borrowed” a pound cake Miss Ora Nell had just set on the windowsill to cool.
Technically, they were returnin’ it as a masterpiece, so they felt morally upright.
Step two was addin’ the “volcano” element.
“Dry ice,” Jimmy declared. “That is what real magicians use.”
Problem was, they didn’t have dry ice.
What they did have was:
- A leftover Fourth of July smoke bomb
- A funnel
- A cake with a hollowed-out center
- Bad judgment
They loaded it, packed it, and prayed.
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The Big Reveal
At precisely 3:15 p.m., during the judging portion of the bake-off, the boys carried their creation to the long table beside the banana puddings and chess pies.
The room went still.
Mrs. Hazel Turnipseed, three-time Bake-Off Champion, folded her arms.
Miss Ora Nell sniffed suspiciously.
“Smells like sulfur in here,” she said. “Somebody light a match?”
Jimmy cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “we present to you the world’s first active eruption cake. Behold… Mount Piedmont.”
He tapped the funnel.
Nothing happened.
He tapped it again.
Still nothing.
Jim Leroy shrugged and reached under the table to jiggle the smoke bomb.
That was the mistake.
The cake erupted with a hiss so loud it startled the entire room. Thick gray smoke belched upward, fillin’ the fellowship hall like a battlefield reenactment.
People screamed.
Pies were abandoned.
Children hid under tables.
Miss Ora Nell collapsed against a stack of hymnals wailin’, “The Good Lord done called me home!”
Mrs. Hazel Turnipseed shouted, “Grab the fire extinguisher! And my pudding!”
The Preacher busted in yellin’, “Who summoned the biblical plague? Who?”
And through it all, Jimmy Matthew stood there, proud as a whitewashed pig.
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The Townsfolk Commentary
When the smoke cleared (twenty minutes and two box fans later), Piedmont had opinions.
Mrs. Hazel Turnipseed:
“If they wanted drama, they should have joined the choir.”
Miss Ora Nell:
“That was my pound cake. My pound cake. Those boys are lucky I believe in grace.”
Pastor Willoughby:
“Never again. Not even with chaperones. Especially not with chaperones.”
Sheriff Garner:
“I cain’t arrest ‘em for cookin’, but I can strongly suggest they never do it again.”
Raymond Rue:
“I ain’t sayin’ it was impressive, but I will say my eyebrows are still smokin’.”
Claire Woolf:
“I told them not to. I told them three times. That means I get to say ‘I told you so’ until next Easter.”
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The Aftermath
The boys received a lifetime ban from the Bake-Off, which they took as a badge of honor.
Miss Ora Nell forgave them after they replaced her pound cake.
Mrs. Hazel won again because the judges felt sentimental.
And Jimmy Matthew declared the event a success.
“We made history,” he said.
“Yep,” Jim Leroy agreed. “Just wish history didn’t smell like burnin’ rubber.”
The fellowship hall has not allowed open flames, fireworks, or boys named Jimmy Matthew or Jim Leroy inside since.
And Piedmont, bless its heart, still talks about the year the cake erupted.
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