Magical Girl?! But I Was a Dude!

Chapter 11: The Great Glitter Bake-Off (Disaster Edition)

Chapter 11: The Great Glitter Bake-Off (Disaster Edition)

The morning after our impromptu glittery bake-off, I woke up with frosting in my hair. As I tried to untangle the sparkly mess, I reflected on how wildly things had escalated yesterday. Snoofles was now the village’s unofficial snack ambassador, and the villagers were planning a massive bake-off to celebrate.

“I came to this world to fight villains, not decorate cupcakes,” I muttered, pulling a stray sprinkle from my hair. But, let’s be honest—cupcakes had been the highlight of my life here so far.

Downstairs at the inn’s main room, I was greeted by the sight of Fluffbuns and Snoofles huddled together at a table, both of them furiously scribbling something on a long scroll.

“What are you two up to now?” I asked, cautiously approaching. Given the past 24 hours, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were planning to replace the village’s water supply with glitter.

Fluffbuns looked up, eyes gleaming. “We’re entering the Great Glitter Bake-Off! It’s going to be the biggest baking competition this side of the Sparkle Hills!”

“And guess what?” Snoofles added, bouncing on its seat. “You’re our team captain!”

I blinked. “Wait, what? Team captain? I didn’t sign up for this!”

Snoofles waved a frosting-covered hand. “Too late! We already registered you. It’s official!”

I stared at the two of them, my mind racing. “But I don’t know anything about baking! I can barely make toast without setting off a fire alarm!”

Fluffbuns, ever the optimist, floated over and patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, with your leadership and our creativity, we can’t fail! Plus, there’s a grand prize.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Grand prize?”

“A lifetime supply of magical snacks!” Snoofles said, grinning.

I sighed. Of course, they’d lure me in with food.

The competition was set to take place later that day, so I had no time to protest further. Before I knew it, we were standing in the village square, surrounded by makeshift baking stations and a crowd of enthusiastic villagers. Banners reading “Great Glitter Bake-Off!” hung from every available surface, and the whole place sparkled like someone had upended a glitter factory.

Our station was stocked with ingredients I couldn’t even begin to pronounce. There were eggs, flour, and sugar, sure, but there were also things like “Fairy Dust Extract” and “Rainbow Essence,” which sounded more like things you’d find in a wizard’s potion lab.

“Alright, team,” I said, trying to sound confident. “We need a plan. What are we making?”

“A cupcake tower!” Fluffbuns announced, as if that was the most obvious choice in the world.

I scratched my head. “How do we even make a tower out of cupcakes? Aren’t towers supposed to be, like, tall and stable? Cupcakes are... round.”

Snoofles held up a blueprint—a literal blueprint—of a cupcake tower. “I’ve got it all figured out! We’ll stack them using frosting as glue. And don’t worry, the frosting is extra sticky. It’ll hold!”

I wasn’t convinced. “Extra sticky frosting sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

But it was too late. The competition had begun.

As we started mixing ingredients, I quickly realized just how little I knew about baking. The flour puffed into my face like a cartoon cloud, leaving me coughing and blinking through a layer of white dust. Snoofles, meanwhile, was expertly cracking eggs and measuring out fairy dust as if it did this for a living.

“This is going surprisingly well,” I admitted, cautiously stirring the batter. “Maybe we won’t set the village on fire after all.”

But, of course, that’s when things started to go wrong.

“Uh, is the oven supposed to make that noise?” I asked as a loud whirring sound came from behind me. I turned just in time to see the oven door pop open and a puff of smoke escape. “I think something’s burning!”

Fluffbuns floated over and peered inside. “No worries, it’s just a little burnt.”

“A little burnt?” I exclaimed, rushing over to pull out the tray of cupcakes. The tops were charred black, looking more like volcanic rocks than baked goods. “These are ruined!”

Snoofles, ever the optimist, grinned. “We can just scrape off the top and cover it with frosting. No one will know the difference!”

I wasn’t sure if that was genius or madness, but I didn’t have time to argue. We quickly smeared on a generous layer of frosting—so thick that it resembled a blanket—and started stacking the cupcakes into a wobbly tower.

“See? It’s holding!” Snoofles cheered as we reached the third layer.

But just as we were about to add the final cupcake to the top, disaster struck. A loud splat echoed through the square as the entire tower collapsed, sending cupcakes rolling across the ground and frosting splattering everywhere.

I stood frozen, staring at the mess. “Well… that’s one way to do it.”

Fluffbuns floated over, looking at the remains of our masterpiece. “We can rebuild! It’s not too late!”

“We have five minutes!” I pointed out, panicking. “We don’t have time to rebuild anything!”

Snoofles, however, was already scrambling to scoop up the least-damaged cupcakes. “Don’t worry, we’ll make this work! We just need to… improvise!”

And so, in a frenzy of glitter, frosting, and questionable decision-making, we slapped together a new cupcake tower—if you could call it that. It was more like a pile of cupcakes glued together with frosting and hope.

Just as the bell rang to signal the end of the competition, we stepped back, surveying our work. It wasn’t pretty, but it was… something.

The judges, a trio of very serious-looking bakers, made their way over to our station. They peered at our creation with raised eyebrows, clearly unimpressed by the mess of frosting and lopsided cupcakes.

“Interesting design,” one of the judges said, trying to be polite.

I winced. “Yeah, it’s more of an abstract interpretation of a cupcake tower.”

Another judge tentatively picked up one of the cupcakes and took a bite. I held my breath, waiting for the verdict.

Surprisingly, the judge’s eyes widened in delight. “This is… delicious!”

Snoofles puffed out its chest. “I told you! My frosting can fix anything!”

The other judges took bites as well, nodding in agreement. “Despite its appearance, the flavor is excellent. Very creative use of fairy dust.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “So… does that mean we win?”

The head judge smiled. “Let’s just say you’ve made a very memorable impression.”

In the end, we didn’t win the grand prize, but we did walk away with a special award for “Most Creative Disaster.” And honestly? That felt like a victory in itself.

As we gathered around our (somewhat) salvaged cupcake tower, laughing and eating the glittery treats, I realized that maybe this world wasn’t just about fighting villains and saving the day. Sometimes, it was about embracing the chaos, laughing at the absurdity, and enjoying the sweet moments—even if they came covered in way too much frosting.

And as Fluffbuns and Snoofles debated the next great snack adventure, I found myself smiling. Because, after all, when life gives you glitter explosions and snack thieves, you might as well roll with it—and maybe bake a cupcake or two along the way.