Go ahead, make my birthday cake

Dirty Harry was baking a cake. It was another cop’s birthday, and there weren’t any bad guys around for Harry to shoot that day. Why not bake a delicious cake?

He followed the recipe carefully. He mixed the sugar, butter, eggs, and vanilla.

He started measuring the dry ingredients. He poured in the flour. Next up was the baking powder.

The phone rang.

Harry answered it.

A wrong number.

But when Dirty Harry Callahan went back to baking he got scared. Real scared. As scared as a killer looking down the barrel of Harry’s .44 Magnum, but Harry was just looking at a bowl of cake ingredients and the measuring spoon in his hand.

Did he put in two teaspoons of baking powder or only one? With the interruption he kind of lost track. Did he need to add more baking powder or not? He couldn’t be sure, so he had to ask himself one question, “Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk?”

Well, did he?

*     *     *     *     *

This bit of flash fiction is a momentary return of Fiction Friday. In 2014 I published flash fiction and other creative writing every week. See all the Fiction Friday posts here.

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