From podcasts to Lifetime movies, it’s clear that America is obsessed with true crime and when I say America, I mean middle-class white women. The only thing these ladies love more than gruesome murders are delicious desserts. That’s why I’m applying for this $100,000 small business loan to open the world’s first true crime bakery, “Devil’s Food In The White City.” 

Loan Officer Linda, may I call you Linda? You look so familiar. Have we met before? Here’s a copy of my business plan. Yes, I did bind it in Caution tape. Cute, right?   

You’re probably wondering how a devoted mother of three came up with such a macabre concept. A few months ago, I was walking to a PTA bake sale when I saw dozens of young women gathered outside of the courthouse. I asked a young lady what all the hubbub was about.

“The Ash River Strangler is getting sentenced. I’m trying to get a selfie with him,” she said. “Oh my god, are those red velvet cupcakes?”

“Yes,” I replied, “we’re raising money for new basketball uniforms at my son’s…” 

“I heard The Strangler fed Elizabeth Bronhouser red velvet cake before he asphyxiated her with her own panties. How much?”

Those morbid missies paid $10 each for those cupcakes and a business was born.

Linda, here is a tray shaped like a skull with samples of my desserts. Try a slice of Ted Bundt-y Cake filled with BTK (Banana Toffee Kreme). 

You’ll see on page two of my business plan, the one decorated with tiny knives, I have done my research and become what the kids call a real “Murder Bitch.” I joined an Ann Rule book club, paid $300 to attend a live podcast taping, and I even traveled to Texas to learn the secret to a perfect sheet cake and witness a death row execution.  

I swear I know you from somewhere. Do you go to St. Matthews? Never mind, taste one of my Donner Party Lady Fingers.    

My sinister sweets have been a hit with everyone who’s tried them. Just last week I helped search the Edgebrook Forest for Jessica Everett’s body and I brought along a batch of my Son of Sam Puppy Chow. We didn’t find her, but everyone was asking for my recipe.  

The next page of the plan is in a Zodiac style code, so allow me to translate. Women believe that consuming true crime media will inoculate them from violence. Through my business, I am literally allowing them to consume their dread, confront their buttercream demons, and destroy their fears one bite at a time. 

Try a Lizzie Borden Took An Axe, Gave Her Mother 40 Flax-seed Muffin. 

I plan on opening “Devil’s Food In The White City” in a strip mall between my clientele’s two favorite stores, Starbucks and Anthropologie. With this loan, I will have the funds to purchase equipment, hire staff, and decorate the walls with authentic John Wayne Gacy clown paintings.  

Linda, why are you crying into your JonBenét Ramsey Pineapple Tart? 

You’re pointing at your desk, your nameplate, Linda Everett.  Oh my god, Jessica Everett is your daughter. That’s where I know you from. I’m so sorry for your loss. I heard they found her in that abandoned train station. Well, most of her. 

Soooo, am I approved? No? You think my bakery is tasteless exploitation of victims’ pain that inadvertently glorifies the men that caused it? I dare you to try a bite of those Jack The Ripper-doodles and say my business is tasteless. 

I’ll see myself out.