Bake

An original satirical tale from the Orange King’s kingdom.

For “Bake,” I drew Bobby’s contribution to public health: an upside-down cake, barely supporting its own weight, with a lump of butter on top.

The Orange King has appointed him royal baker. Bobby immediately questions whether ovens have ever been properly tested and accuses the kitchen thermometer of working for the establishment.

I wish this required more imagination. This is someone who has promoted the discredited vaccine-autism connection, declared that no vaccine is safe and effective, and complained about the suppression of raw milk. Apparently, decades of research deserve suspicion, but bacteria should be given a fair hearing.

What irritates me about this smug fucking crank is how confidently he presents distrust as knowledge. Finding fault with an expert doesn’t make you one. Neither does taking your shirt off beside Kid Rock, although they’ve given that approach a thorough trial.

For anyone who missed it, the two of them made a health promo involving exercise, poolside whole milk and Bobby getting into a cold plunge wearing jeans. I’d have settled for a health secretary who could assess evidence without needing his trousers wrung out afterwards.

In the royal kitchen, Kid Rock has been invited to taste the cake. His musical career suggests he can swallow quite a lot of shit and still consider it suitable for public consumption.

The cake starts leaning. Bobby dismisses the baker who notices, announces that the recipe has been corrupted by outside interests and commissions a study into the plate.

The Orange King requests a second slice. Kid Rock wants everyone to know he helped.