Seeing the bullet pass right through the donut's center, making it a holed, filled donut, Mrs. Hollie's eyes lit. "Oh my God! How did I not think of it earlier? Filled donut with a hole. Classic. Elegant. But still delicious!" She kissed her fingers and then lifted them in the air. "Gotta note it down for later!" She said and run inside to find a pen and paper.
Thaught had no choice. She did not want Mack to keep throwing donuts in the air and making holes in them. She had to protect them.
She started eating donut after donut. Somewhere between the munching and the striving for air, she was contemplating whether this morning was one of the best or one of the worst she could possibly have. She loved donuts and having two baker's dozens before starting her day was near the top of her bucket list ever since she was around 6 years old, when Aunt Mary gave Thaught her first donut. She fell immediately both in love and on the ground, as her heart momentarily gave up after experiencing this heavenly creation.
On the other hand, having an extremely well-dressed manic pointing a gun at her head and flailing his other arm while yelling pure nonsense, was far from ideal.
“Wait a minute,” Thaught said while halfway done with her dozen. The different textures, jams, custards, and fillings had all left their mark on her face, to the point you could not tell if that thing on her right nostril was strawberry jam, red velvet frosting or someone greeted her with a baseball bat to the face that morning. You could tell what was on her left nostril, though. That was definitely an apple fritter. “This has your name on it! See? It says 'Mack'”
“Yeah, right. As if anyone would name their donut 'Mack',” he said as he leaned over the box of mostly massacred donuts. And there it was indeed, right in the center of the box, with a golden shine around it.
“Can you turn the flashlight off? I am trying to see what is written on it,” said Mack, who was squinting his eyes, trying to make out the letters. “Wait! I thought this was but a mere folklore. It was not supposed to exist! Th-the forbidden combo, 'mac-n-cheese-n-dough'! The mac-n-cheese donut!”
“But how is it going to be sweet if it has MacRonald’s inside it?” Asked Thaught, putting her fingers on her chin, further mixing the already-mixed fillings that were splattered across her face.
“It's not! It's savory! That's why it's forbidden!” Mack placed the donut on his palms and raised it up in the air, as if he was showing it to thousands of awed spectators. “Who in their right mind would create such a thing?”
“Does she look like she is in her right mind?” said Thaught, pointing with her thumb at Mrs. Hollie, who had now placed her pen on her upper lip, making it look like a mustache and performing the poco-poco dance.
“You are right,” Mack nodded. “It takes an evil mastermind to create and successfully market such an abomination,” he said as he looked back at the donut with a look of disgust but also a slight curiosity. “We should probably burn it. The world is not ready for it.”
“Ooor... You could try eating it,” Thaught proposed while chomping on the rest of the baker's dozen. “It can't be worse than a regular donut, can it?”
“I guess you're right. Worst-case scenario, I'll end up in the hospital like every other time I have a donut.”
“Wait. Why are you ending up in the hospital every time? And why do you keep eating them?”
“Here goes nothing.”
Mack took a hearty bite out of the donut. Its golden juices started spilling out, along with a plethora of macaroni chunks. Thaught could swear that for a moment, cheddar-yellow hearts replaced Mack's eyes. This is usually a good sign, but not always. If in doubt, better ask your ophthalmologist, in case they say otherwise. They probably won't, but it may feel weird to confess to them your love for cheddar cheese, in which case, you may need to find another doctor. Preferably in another town because local doctors know each other and you don't want your ophthalmologist to rat you out during Saturday's bingo night.
“I can't believe it! This is the greatest thing I've ever tasted!” He said, just as surprised as a child that really did get coal for Christmas. “This is ama-”
He then fell flat down, unconscious, with foam coming out of his mouth. In reality, Mack loved donuts, but had a yeast allergy that he could never remember.
“Oh God, I'm going to be late for work!” Thaught said and gobbled down the rest of the donuts. She did not need to, since Mack was unconscious, but why would anyone throw away this opportunity?
Mrs. Hollie came out of the kitchen just in time, as Thaught was finishing the last donut. She has baked a lot of donuts and has seen even more things in her lifetime, so she somehow remained calm.
Thaught, trying to seem as cool as those guys in the movies, those that wear black sunglasses and black suits, those that have black ties and black shoes, those that have black pistols and black rubber duckies in their bathrooms, said “don't worry, I have already called an ambulance.” She hadn't.
She then slowly walked up to the counter, lowered her imaginary sunglasses and said, “By the way, do you happen to have another baker's dozen?”
Thaught walked off the store holding a brand new baker's dozen. Mrs. Hollie waving at her from inside the store while doing the kalinka dance next to Mack's body, who was still foaming.
