The Adventures of Bagelman

The Origin of Bagelman

Bagels were a dying pastry in Bread City. During the last census, it was reported that there were 6,734 bagels compared to the 5 million people that live there. But among the few bagels left was a vigilante, a hero if you will, by the name of Bagelman! This is his story:

Bagelman was born as Peter Raymond Bajgiel (although he will not be called that) into a humble bagel household in one of the poorer neighborhoods in Bread City, living in an area almost entirely populated by bagels. His childhood was a normal one, not unlike any other bagels education, an education, neither good nor bad. He went to the school all other bagels in the area did, "The South Bread Bagel School." (Because the bagel population was so small it wasn't deemed necessary to have separate schools like many other pastries did) During his school days he made friends, like John Halbmond, a half bagel, half croissant who was overall a little split, and enemies like Polska of Bajgiel, and that of was important because he spouted direct ancestry from the first bagel. Nobody really liked Polska. As Bagelman grew older, he noticed he was the strongest, fastest, but not necessarily the smartest, that award always went to little old John who's sophisticated croissant blood helped him in that respect. Bagelman graduated from South Bread Bagel School, at the ripe age of 16, (bagel schooling was shorter than other pastries) and he had no idea what to do.

His family did not have the money to send him to a college or academy, and anyway he was needed to support their family through these tough times. He worked a harsh factory job making cream cheese for 12 hours every day for two years, and he still had no purpose in life. Working the job gave him time to think, think about how poorly the bagels were treated in this hierarchy of the pastries. (Sadly bagels were near the bottom of this list, but just below them was the humble pretzel, whose numbers were dwindling even faster than the bagels) If no one would protect the bagels but him, he would do it. The next day he walked all the way to the police headquarters of Bread City, a feat in itself, walked towards the applicant desk, and was immediately turned away, getting a pamphlet with all rules needed to be an officer, and the top of the first page was the "Restricted Pastries." The list showed all pastries banned from service. The excerpt has been added:

Restricted Pastries:

Due to the nature of some pastries in our great city we regret to inform that they will not be allowed into police service here at Bread City police:

Pretzels

Kugels

Cronuts

Croutons

Bagels

Waffles

Hardtack

Johnnycakes

After a recent study donuts have been admitted into the safe pastry, due to their calmer nature and sweetness compared to the bagel.

Thank you for understanding.

-Bread City Police Department

Bagelman walked home that night crushed, was he, Bagelman poor natured? Am I less than a Donut just because I'm not as sweet? These questions and many more haunted Bagelman for days, even weeks on end. He was picking up the morning newspaper as he walked to work and saw the headline, "Mysterious Donut Figure Steals Millions of Wheats in Cream Cheese, New Crime Ring Discovered"

He looked at the headline again just to make sure he read that right, he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and continued to read the page. The robbery had occurred at the cream cheese factory he worked at, 'Cream Cheese Production Facility South.' Although not the most original name, the measly pay had kept his family alive through these tough times. He would stop the mysterious donut figure and help his fellow bagels. As the robbery had destroyed much of the equipment at his job so he walked back home to see that his mother was gone, probably at taking his brother and sister bagels to school. He noticed his mothers sewing machine laying out on a table in their small apartment, along with some fabric she had left out to make curtains.

"Sorry Mom." He mumbled as he picked up the fabric. "I'll pay you back, but first our bagel brethren must be protected."

He worked for hours on and off trying to hide it every time his mother walked in, until after many tireless nights and inability to use a sewing machine, the cape was complete, a yellow cape with a frilly BM on it, maybe it wasn't the most manly cape, but it would do. Now he could protect his bagel brethren, and end the discrimination against his dwindling pastries, and bring equality to all under the law, or something similar to it at least.

Bagelman had found himself, but now he had the Herculean task of finding out the identity of this mysterious donut, and those who plotted with him.