The instant the product was announced, Linda knew she had to have it. Not just “it,” but every varietal of it. A long-time Dolly Parton fan, this latest non-musical project was something she could really get on board with because it spoke to her “homebody” nature. Her constant need to “cultivate” order and comfort in the domestic space. Much like Dolly herself, who, despite her “trashy whore” image, was the type of woman who liked to be a domestic goddess as well (mostly because of her beloved husband, Carl). Hence, creating a baking-related brand with Duncan Hines. Announced the same month as her birthday in January of 2022, Linda thought it was a brilliant way to celebrate with her very own cake selection. Surely that would quell any discord between the factions that still debated over whether or not she was more of a Capricorn or more of an Aquarius (Linda obviously knew she was a Capricorn, even if narrowly). She also knew that supplies might not last over time, so she bought up as much of the stock as she could, deigning to go into Wal-Mart to do it, even though she was a Target woman through and through.

Alas, because Dolly had to appeal to “all types” of Americans, it made sense that she would opt for distribution in Wal-Mart…primarily. The selection could also randomly crop up at stores like Pic ‘N Save—another testament to Dolly’s “of the people” nature. Linda didn’t consider herself to be that way at all, yet Dolly still resonated with her. Of course, Linda might have applied a healthy dose of daily self-delusion in order to insist that she wasn’t like others in the sense of being, well, not rich enough to evade people altogether. That’s why she had rented out a room in her one-story house to a twenty-something stoner with the cleaning skills of a toddler. He had been living there for about a year now and, for the most part, they avoided one another. Or rather, Linda avoided him. The stain on her otherwise perfect haven from the outside world.

Because they rarely talked, Steve (that hopelessly straight man’s name) couldn’t have ever known about Linda’s reverence for Dolly. It’s not as if she were the sort to put up posters or other forms of memorabilia around the place. But when Linda came home that January afternoon with boxes and boxes of Dolly’s Coconut Cake, Banana Puddin’ Cake and Caramel Turtle Brownie Mix (along with their coordinating frosting pairings), Steve happened to notice her unloading them in the kitchen. His half-present commentary? “Damn, that’s a lot of dessert.”

Linda rolled her eyes. She didn’t want a one-man peanut gallery in her midst during this sacred moment (nor did she ever want it at all, however, such was the curse of needing to pay a mortgage). But, not wanting to be rude—Dolly certainly wouldn’t be—she turned to him and said, “Yes. Yes it is.” He kept staring at her as if waiting to be offered some of said dessert once it was made. Linda made no such offer and so nearly a minute of silence passed between them before Steve finally offered, “Cool. Gonna jet.”

With that, he left the house to do God knows what. Because, though he claimed to have a job as a dishwasher at the Cheesecake Factory, it seemed as if he was always around. Perhaps the Fates had smiled upon Linda today though—because it was a much better experience to be alone and baking. One could really get into the groove of things that way: play music loudly (Dolly Parton, of course), make a mess without worrying about having to clean it right away and generally put forth the kind of time and attention needed to yield the best outcome for the dessert. Linda couldn’t do any of that with another “presence” around. No matter how out of it that presence was. So she took the utmost advantage of her alone time, slowly meting out the ingredients and stirring them with a kind of gradual carefulness that was almost sensual in nature.

She thought of Dolly saying of her new products, “I have always loved to cook. And I am so happy to share some of my Southern favorites with you.” In later promotional videos, she would say things like, “I have a lot of teeth and all of ‘em are sweet” and “Go on and make up some of this goodness in your own home.” Linda heeded the advice, whipping up the recipes with the fervor of any devoted worshipper. In this case, a worshipper of the Church of Dolly.

When she was finished, she laid out two cake stands with the Coconut Cake and Banana Puddin’ Cake on each, and an ornately-designed floral plate with the Caramel Turtle Brownies arranged in calculated stacks on it. This was a day well spent as far as she was concerned. But she would not eat the “yields” just yet. Instead, she would cherish their aesthetic value for at least the next twelve or so hours. For she genuinely was proud of how her baking work had turned out. This, too, another testament to the joy that Dolly could bring into people’s everyday lives. As Linda mused on this gift of Dolly’s, she put the rest of the cake and brownie mix boxes she had bought into a cabinet next to the refrigerator, wrapped up her cleaning tasks and left the kitchen, not ever imagining what Steve might do next.

The revelation about what a monster he could be came slightly after midnight. Linda had stayed up late working on a presentation that she had to give in two days and decided she deserved a reward. A pick-me-up. She went into the kitchen, turned on the light and, to her sheer horror, saw not only a huge, indiscriminate mess on the counters and sink, but also that the cakes and brownies had been totally pillaged. They were unrecognizable in their current state and there was little left to generate much of a “portion” for herself. Linda truly couldn’t believe she was living with someone that inconsiderate and entitled. But even in this moment, she was willing to look past it for the sake of keeping the peace within the household. That is, until she went to the cabinet where the boxes had been placed and saw that they, too, had been ravaged. It made absolutely no sense.

Presently livid, Linda no longer cared about keeping any peace with Steve, barging into his room to find him surrounded with the desserts she had made, as well as the spewed-open packs of powder from the boxes. He had frosting and crumbs all over himself, and a giant bong off to the side.

“What in the fuck are you doing?!” she demanded.

Steve looked at her with absolutely no sign of remorse. “Oh. Hey. Got a little case of the muuuuuunchieeees. Needed to have a snack.”

That was his explanation. And Linda couldn’t believe it. Not only did he not seem to understand the audacity of what he had done, but he didn’t even offer to remedy the offense by replacing her supply. A supply that Linda was certain would not last so bountifully for much longer. She despised him all the more for this heinous act. And even though Dolly probably would have forgiven him because of what a true Christian she was, Linda could not. She kicked him out the next day. The same day she returned to Wal-Mart to find that, as predicted, most of the stock had been as plundered as her own the previous night. Fucking straight men, she thought to herself as she sat in the parking lot trying not to scream. She supposed she would just have to drive to another location and see what they had there… Starting over in more ways than one since she now had to drum up a new lodger. Hopefully one that wasn’t such an arbitrarily voracious asshole.