"Listen, I have to warn you, man," said Dmitri as we got up to go through, "they're still on this whole health food thing, it's not going to be pretty."
We sat down at the table in front of plates of brown vegetable goop. I prodded it gingerly with my fork.
"It's alfalfa sprouts and mashed yeast," said Dmitri's mum, cheerfully. "Eat up, and you can have seconds."
Dmitri rolled his eyes, and began to eat. It was tasteless but pretty inoffensive, and I was hungry enough to get it down. As soon as we'd finished, Dmitri said, "Well, that was great, mum, but I think we're going upstairs to my room now."
"You don't want tofu cake for dessert?" she said as we got up to go. "Well, okay. Have a good time."
Dmitri's room was big, with an ensuite bathroom, TV and another couple of games consoles. He closed the door, and immediately went to the corner where he began to pull up the corner of the luxurious thick-pile carpet. He then pulled up a floorboard and began lifting out carboard bakery boxes. "I got these from the bakery downtown and brought them home the other day. Half a dozen chocolate fudge cakes." He laid them between us, six huge, dark brown cakes, covered in rich, thick icing. "What do you say to an eating contest? Three cakes each, first to finish theirs wins?"
I looked at Dmitri's big round stomach, then down to my flat one. "I don't know, dude, I –"
"Oh, I understand," he interrupted me. "You're chicken. That's fine. You eat like a bird anyway."
"Fuck off," I said, grinning. "Fine. Let's go for it." He handed me a fork, and we both dug in.
The cakes were delicious, and I found myself getting through the first one with no trouble at all. But starting on the second, I realised how rich and heavy it was. Dmitri was keeping up a steady pace, and I didn't think I could keep going, but somehow, I did, until...