One morning, an old man opened his door to find a short fellow dressed in an overcoat and a large hat standing on his doorstep. The little fellow cleared his throat, “the king requests a cake from you for his birthday.” The old man explained that he no longer makes cakes, but the little fellow was relentless. “This may be the last birthday the king ever has. He needs a cake this year. A perfect cake. Fit for a king.”
The old man sighed, and agreed to help, under one condition: the little fellow helps him find the ingredients they need for the cake. So the two set off on their journey to find the perfect ingredients.
They walked out the gates of the cobblestone city, and through fields of farmland. They came upon a wheat mill on top of a hill. “We can gather flour for the cake here,” said the old man. “Flour? No, no no, the king doesn’t want a cake made by peasants, he wants the finest of ingredients only!” said the little fellow. So the old man and little fellow kept walking.
They found a jungle filled with unique trees and stalks of sugarcane. “We can pick this for sugar,” said the old man. The little fellow scoffed. “This plant is buried in mud, we cannot serve this to the king.” So the old man and little fellow kept walking.
Eventually the two stumbled upon giant chickens. “The eggs from these chickens must be fit for a king,” the old man exclaimed. “Of course not!” replied the little fellow, “the king doesn’t want to eat something that popped out of an animal!” So the old man and little fellow kept walking.
As they walked on, the ground became white with beautiful crystals. The crystals formed giant dunes surrounding a vast ocean.
“These crystals must be salt, I’m sure we can use this in the cake,” said the old man. “Salt is not sweet at all! This could never work in a cake for a king,” disagreed the little fellow. So the two kept walking.
A sweet smell suddenly filled their noses. A garden of flowers surrounded them.
“It smells like vanilla,” said the old man. “How could the king not want something so sweet in his cake?” The little fellow looked around, and sighed. “The king has tasted vanilla before, he would be bored of this cake.”
The old man furrowed his brow and clenched his fists. “We have been walking for ages, what possible ingredient could be good enough for the king?” The little fellow smiled, “we will know it when we find it.”
So the two continued walking, and walking, and walking...
After a while, a creature began to follow them.
“What are you?” asked the old man to the creature. “I am Time,” replied the creature. “You two have been walking for a while, can I be of aid?” “Time?!” exclaimed the little fellow. “We have wasted enough time already, we do not need anymore!”
With that, the little fellow waved the creature away, and him and the old man continued on.
Finally, the two happened upon a small island with a tree growing in the middle. The tree had golden leaves and a ruby red trunk. Hanging from a branch was a magnificent fruit shining a royal shade of blue.
“The king’s fruit,” gasped the little fellow. “Is this it?” asked the old man. The little fellow nodded, and plucked the fruit from the tree. The old man took a heavy breath of relief. “Now we can make the cake,” the little fellow said, and they turned to begin the long walk home.
After ages of walking, the two arrived at the old man’s house. The little fellow placed the royal fruit on the counter, and the old man opened the cupboard to begin making the cake. But when he looked in the cupboard, he had no flour, no sugar, no eggs. There was no salt to enhance the flavor, nor vanilla to make it sweet. He looked at the clock, the seconds ticking away. He had no time left to make the cake for the king’s birthday.
The old man turned to the little fellow, who anxiously waited for the cake to appear. “I cannot make a cake,” said the old man. “Why not?” asked the little fellow. “Because this is not a cake.” The old man pointed at the fruit. The little fellow stared at the fruit, as if by some miracle it would turn into a cake, but the old man was right. The fruit was not a cake.
