The Art of Confectionary was a seminal work, written in 1890 by the famed, if slightly deranged Ada Tuff-Muffin, an arch rival of Mrs Beaton who mainly cooked frightening vegetables, brawn and posset.
It astounded contemporaries what she could achieve with gelatine and sugar, including the first prototype of the mainframe computer made solely out of marzipan.
History, alas, tried to forget this and the fact that she was the illegitimate daughter the romantic poets following an orgy which ended in a fur rug, some trouble with the local beak and her mother’s invention of the chocolate bar which her mother, Bloomer Tuff-Muffin called the Chocolate Finger.
It never caught on and she died in Penury, east of the village of Minge.
Bunty had inherited her cake arsenal which included some vicious implements for teasing sugar in the right direction, including the icing whip which was designed to produce a rather nice ripply frosting effect on Ada’s famous Polar Bear cake.
She unleashed this from her Pitt The Elder bag and decided to cut short this re-union as they really didn’t have time….the ice was melting.
“This is the Ada Tuff-Muffin confectionary whip, and you are asking yourself is it the number five or the number six ? Well to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I kind of lost track myself. But being that this is an Ada Tuff-Muffin whip the most powerful confectionary whip in the world, and would frost your icing, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well do you old chap?” asked Bunty.
“Bunty!” hissed Lola, “no-one has heard of a confectionary whip!” she smiled seductively at the gathered cossacks and pulled out her pistol.
“Know what this is boys? Now dismantle the still and Sparky, get in the back of the car, and no smoking.” she said Partly in Russian.
A chastened Sparky obeyed and Bunty was soon setting her new invention, the Sonar in the direction in which legend told them that the Imperial Cake Palace was built.
“You know, you will be grateful for Ada’s arsenal one of these days.” muttered Bunty sulking, then she brightened, “Ooh, I forgot to say-we’ve got tickets to see Nijinsky!”
“What the horse?” piped in Sparky, unwisely, gaining glares from both the women.
“Shut up Sparky!” snapped Lola.
“Well I can only hope Bunty that your sense of timing has improved; last time you got us tickets for the matinee and we had evict the Tsarina from her box!” said Lola.
“That was at least a hundred years ago!” snapped Bunty.
Sparky groaned and hid himself underneath the furs on the back seat so that he couldn’t hear them arguing.
The Daimler rose high above the tree line as Bunty tried to shake the Tenna Lady off, however, little did they know that Miss Marbles was locked in the boot and was starting to choke on the fumes of the still.