When the last bacon-maple bar passes under the Giant Doughnut, probably sometime after midnight Sunday, the mad scientists of

will close their hole-in-the-wall downtown store for a six-week renovation, all part of their insane plan for "world doughnut domination."

But to lull us all, the brains behind Voodoo Doughnut, Kenneth "Cat Daddy" Pogson and Tres (pronounced "trace") Shannon, say their motives are pure: "The whole reason we're doing this," says Shannon, "is to help Portland out."

Eight years ago, Pogson and Shannon were fresh-from-the-fryer doughnut makers dreaming crazy doughnut dreams. They knew they wanted to be in that funky nexus at the west end of the Burnside Bridge where bar crawlers, dazed out-of-towners and street people mingle, no matter the hour.

"We were thinking, 'That person needs a doughnut. That person needs a doughnut,'" Shannon says.

Shannon knew the landlord of the 750-square-foot space at 22 Southwest Third Avenue; it appealed to Shannon and Pogson because, Shannon says, "It had a 'hood.' " Once the doors opened, the business grew, especially after the store went 24-hour: "We knew by the third year that we'd need more room," Shannon says.

"We've been very fortunate," says Pogson, whose name-in-quotes comes out of his days announcing professional wrestling. "We have been up 20 percent to 80 percent every year. We've just been needing the space for so long, and now we're going to have it."

Voodoo Doughnuts is taking over the

space immediately to the south, and the store will expand to 2,300 square feet. "Most of that will be kitchen," Shannon says. "The lobby will be a nicer place to stand while you're in line, but the room for customers isn't going to get that much bigger."

The love that Voodoo Doughnuts has for Portland is not unrequited. The City Council has

the Portland Creme -- cream filled, chocolate covered, with two creme "eyes" -- the city's official doughnut.

The plan for world doughnut domination, as Pogson calls the grand vision, is moving apace.

opened on Northeast Davis Street three years ago; just last year, Eugene welcomed

(named for Shannon).

When the new downtown location reopens -- Pogson and Shannon are aiming for May 30, the company's ninth anniversary -- much of the art work from the old place will remain, although probably in different places.

"The duct-tape mural will still be in the bathroom," Shannon says. The Isaac Hayes painting will hang in a place of honor. The Giant Doughnut, once the victim of a brazen theft, will return. The rotating menu of

will expand. Pogson says the downtown store will have "Jelly Thursday," featuring delectables filled with locally made jams and jellies.

Not changing: The signature pink box in which thousands of Voodoo Doughnuts have traveled.

The line out the door at the downtown Voodoo Doughnut can run two hours, thanks to the global word of mouth. Pogson says that in 2009, Google calculated which place names generated the most searches. In the top 10 were the usual suspects -- Mount Everest, the White House... and Voodoo Doughnut.

"We have people coming in from everywhere in the world, New Zealand, you name it," Pogson says.

Uber-chef Anthony Bourdain has fallen under the Voodoo

. Time magazine rates it

in its "Portland: 10 things to do in 24 hours," remarking: "If there was ever a business that captured the kooky essence of Portland, it's Voodoo."

People magazine recently mentioned the business. The owners will be on the TV program "Access Hollywood" at some point.

is perfecting a "Bacon Maple Porter" to be sold in pink-glass bottles. Now in the company fleet: A pink Honda Element SUV.

The ease with which the mad scientists have cast their Voodoo over the planet arises, they say, from a simple reason.

We want to submit.

"It's comfort," Shannon says. "And we're a vice, too. But then, all things in moderation."

Pogson: "Show up with a big pink box, and everybody's happy."

***

I solicited ideas Internet-ly for new Voodoo Doughnut concepts. Pogson and Shannon tried not to roll their eyes out of their heads -- it's possible people have offered suggestions before -- then they politely listened.

Barbecue ribs? (thanks to R. Cohen, Potomac, Md.) "We tried a sparerib once," Shannon says. "I'd like to do it, but we don't have any place to cook the meat."

Something with curry? "Tried it," Pogson says. Not so hot.

Flintstone Chewable Vitamins? Pogson and Shannon, in unison: "Can't put medicine in food!" This lesson they learned when they created the Pepto-Bismol doughnut.

Hamburger-shaped with ketchup-red cream: "Hmmm." Silence.

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