Dorothy swung her small feet, her tiny toes wriggling as she sat at her table. Her friends were gathered around for a snack. Mr. Fox was in charge of refreshment, Mrs. Squirrel served snack, and Mr. Crow provided entertainment.
Dorothy hummed a little hum as she nibbled on her cake, taking the smallest bites possible so it would last longer. She adjusted her tiara before it fell onto her pink flowered plate.
Mrs. Squirrel was offering small cakes to the assembled party. Mr. Fox extended the pink tea pot towards her, but Dorothy was having none of it. Her scowl gave him pause.
“No!” cried Dorothy, “This is unacceptable! I demand cocoa, Mr. Fox. And cocoa, we shall have.” Dorothy’s cape swirled around her as she leapt up. The whole group tramped off towards the kitchen on a quest for cocoa.
They crept along the hall, approaching the kitchen with caution. The great and terrible Mama Bear must be approached with proper respect. Mama Bear placidly stirred her pot, her humming drawing the wild child in.
Dorothy sidled up to Mama, her little hands twisting as she practiced her doe-eyed look. “Mama,” the sing-song cadence of Dorothy’s voice hinted at demands to come. “Can we have cocoa for tea?”
“Hmm,” said Mama Bear. “I don’t think chocolate is in order at tea time. Plus I seem to have misheard you, I don’t recall hearing the magic word.”
“Yes!” yelled Dorothy. “I want cocoa! I have to have cocoa!” Tears filled Dorothy’s eyes and she stomped her foot. “You can’t stop me from having cocoa! I need it! You’re being mean!”
Dorothy’s tirade dissolved into tears and angry noises. As she stomped her feet and clenched her fists, yellow down began to grow on her skin. Her little nose began to grow and harden, becoming a tiny beak. Her angry growls became more like quacks, and her stomping toes grew webs.
Mama Bear patted her little one on the head and said, “Come little duckling, back to your tea. We’ll see if we can find you some bread, I’ll get Mr. Crow to throw some at you.” Dorothy quacked a pleased quack and she waddled after Mama, back to resume her tea party.
Based on a prompt from: Terrible Minds
~ M. D. Flyn