The Stake Of Shame

Stephen stuffed a fourth cupcake in his mouth, the frosting highlighting his lips as they transformed into a grin, then a grimace, and finally a frown.

Here he was again, sufficiently buzzed off a quarter pint of rum he purchased not three hours ago.

All week he’d been restraining himself. Little carbs, no booze, plenty of fibrous, pre-packaged salads. His weekend plunges had been adding up and he needed to lose the extra 25 pounds that had quickly attached itself to his abdomen during the three months since Marcie had left him.

A fifth cupcake found its way past Stephen’s clenched teeth, which opened for a brief moment before returning to their state of tension, holding back a quiet rage that boiled behind his tongue.

With plenty of rum and seven more cupcakes left in the original pack of a dozen, Stephen’s night of frustration-induced gluttony had just begun. The stake of shame would drive itself through his innards until even his clenched teeth could not hold back the puke.