Donuts and Secrets

After a time away from home, my palate madly craved all the new gourmet creations that my hometown Monterrey, México could offer. I had no idea that my culinary desire would lead me to discover an apparent secret society of donuts. Yes! Donuts! My mouth waters as I recall my gastronomic adventure…
The smell of donuts lingered in the air but no donut shop in sight. I parked my car and walked in what seemed to be a tapestry shop. Lights were out and I walked towards a light (I know, creepy!) I came across a white door with a phrase in its head, "I hereby declare to keep the secret alive.” Without regard for my safety I walked in the white room and sat in an old french looking style bench. I took the green book beside me, to my surprise it was no ordinary book. As I browsed I discovered saliva dripping pictures of donuts of inimaginable flavours. A party in my belly!
All the donuts had names and descriptions of some masonic reference. My favourites: Witch Jones (banana pie with dulce de leche, improved and put on a donut) 37.401437 116.86773 (Coordinate of a donut seen from space. A peanut butter and strawberry jam donut), D. Brower (referring to the world's fattest man, who probably would have eaten all the production of this bacon maple donut) and for chocolate lovers: 11/22/63 (date of US president John F. Kennedy’s assassination, probably because after eating this choco-oreo’s donut you may die in peace).
As I lost myself in a sugary daydream out of nowhere a male voice interrupted me,"What will be your order?” My response was automatic:“Four donuts please!”. The voice instructed as the side of the wall opened:"Enter the secret room, take your donuts and leave.”
In a rush of courage I entered the room, dark with purple and blue lights, with weird sounds and cold as ice. I kept walking and finally found my donuts, as I took them I saw the figure of what seemed like a white pixie that made me freeze with fright. I ran out of there. As I was leaving the voice recited, "Those who dare to fail miserably can achieve great things", quoting JFK.
I got home, calorie bomb in hand, the fat kid inside me did not want to share, but the task was hard to fulfil without help. I shared my donuts and my story, as they told me all the rumours of who where behind it.
I am now part of the Secret Donut Society, and so might the person next to you. So the next time you're at a social gathering do not trust anyone they might be Masonic puppets among your acquaintances.