Pets

When a monster baby doesn’t want to eat cake

It was in the days of Good King Freddie. Life was good, and Freddie was lounging on his throne with his pseudo-Persian blue cat, Alexander, finishing his goat’s milk and contemplating a visit to his menagerie, when his menagerie manager broke out in a very bad mood. distressed. ‘Calm down, my dear man,’ said the King, ‘Whatever the problem, it is best to face it coolly and with a clear head.’
‘Goal, goal, goal…’
‘But what?’ Freddie asked solicitously.
‘It’s the last hatchling – the monster baby!’

Now it was Freddie’s turn to panic. ‘Oh, don’t tell me something is wrong! I would hate for my little pet to come to any harm. Has his mother trampled on him like last time?
‘It’s not that, sir.
‘Did his father burn him to ashes with a welcome blast from the hot thing?’
‘It’s not that, sir.
‘So what is that?’
“He will not eat Marmorgugelhupf cake, Your Majesty.
‘Oh, that’s all,’ said Freddie, very relieved. I’ll be there soon to feed him myself.
‘No, no, you won’t really eat the cake, sir, and it won’t last long on woggalog milk alone.’
Do not worry, my friend. I am sure he will take food from my gentle royal hand.

Freddie accompanied his Menagerie Manager back to the actual monster hatchery. There was the newborn Hungarian woggalog staring at the broken pieces of his broken eggshell and wondering how he had fit it all together. Nearby was a small bowl of Marmorgugelhupf cake crumbs soaked in woggalog milk. Freddie immediately began coaxing the newborn into trying some of the food. In his softer woggalog courtship voice, the King pushed the small bowl toward the hatchling, emphasizing the need for early nourishment. “You won’t grow up to be a big, healthy blast furnace like your father if you don’t eat your cake,” he urged. He then jerked his hand back as a stream of stinging sparks struck his fingers. ‘Oh!’ Freddie yelled, ‘I didn’t know a hatchling could burn you.’
“Woggalog chicks only, sir.” They cannot be ignited but their sparks are painful. Here, have a taste of this healing balm.

Freddie rubbed a large amount of balm on his singed skin and thanked the Menagerie Manager. ‘Looks like you were right about our new friend not eating cake, but what are we going to do?’
‘I would recommend consulting the Patron Saint and Minister of the Environment.’
‘Yes. Send him an email right away.

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