Baking Disaster

Even since Michel would remember, he hated doing things for himself and even considered himself above such things. He was a prideful bun and he refused to ever think of himself as anything but deserving of everything he was given.

However, such an amount of pride was a dangerous vice to give into and Michel was unfortunate enough to realize that. It started so simply with one of his friends, but not really his friend, mentioned that they believe Michel couldn’t do anything for himself and that they were shocked he wasn’t a sloth bun. He had snapped foolishly quickly that he could do anything that he wanted and that nothing would be too hard for him.

But what did that bun want him to do? They wanted him to bake a cake.

And now Michel was standing on the floor of his kitchen, covered in flour and around three to four eggs. He didn’t mean to slip while he was holding a few ingredients, and he didn’t mean for all of those ingredients to fall on top of him. Now he was dusty and sticky from a mistake that burned his prideful side very sharply.

He whined angrily and stomped his foot on the kitchen tile. “This is so stupid! Why would anyone make a cake when they can just buy one?! Look at my jacket!”

His tail flicked dangerously behind him as he crossed his arms and pouted. “Great now I have to clean all of this up and I don’t have any more eggs for that stupid cake.” His eyes filled with angry tears, but before he could upset himself further, an adorable bark distracted him.

There, in the middle of the dirty kitchen floor, was his impup Diamond. The imp sneezed, shaking their head as flour dust filled the air.

Michel gasped in horror, ‘Oh my baby!”

In a rush, he picked up his impup and tried desperately to wipe off his body. “My sweetheart, my little puppy, I should have known you followed me in here. Oh, look what I’ve done to you, how could I be so clumsy.” He nuzzled Diamond to his cheek.  “You need a bath, then I’m going to buy you all the toys you want.”

He stood up, brushing Diamond with his jacket sleeve, “That stupid cake, I can’t believe it made me hurt my little baby. Poor thing, you must have hated this.”

As for Diamond, the impup was too busy playing with Michel’s sleeve to understand what their master kept going on and on about. They were dirty, but no dirtier than when they played outside. As for being hurt, the little pup was perfectly healthy compared to their dramatic master. Diamond seemed all too content as Michel carried them through his home.

The bun was still talking. “Oh, forget making a cake, I’m just going to buy one from one of those bakeries that no bun knows much about. I can’t be caught if they don’t know where the cake came from.” He nodded sternly, “I can’t make one myself when it’s a danger to my little baby, what kind of parent would I be?”

Diamond just continued to chew on Michel’s sleeve, they didn’t understand what their master was saying, but they loved being carried by him.

Michel was a prideful bun, but he had another problem, loving his impup like they were his own child. Or well if buns bothered to love their children, but that was too many details. All that happened was a clumsy bun and his impup messing up a recipe that was painfully simple.