•Fionna•
I wake up in my sleeping bag to the smell of delicious pancakes. Yum, pancakes! I squiggle out of my bag and fall onto the ground, looking around. I mentally face palm myself, of course Cake isn't in the room! BMO can't cook and only Cake knows how to make pancakes in this plumping treehouse! I don't know, it's apparently a 'secret' recipe she uses.
I look down at my red onesie. I better change in case we have company. I walk over to the wooden wardrobe and fling open both of the doors and look around. I grab a turquoise top that hangs down to my upper thigh and some denim short-shorts. I hear a knock at the door, must be Cake coming to wake me up. "I'm getting changed, go away!" I yell jokingly.
I hear a laugh from the other door and she says, "Hurry up then before I eat your stack of pancakes." I shout out a no as if it was going in slow motion. She laughs evilly and hysterically, reminding me of Ice Queen (IQ). I hear no more noise of any sort except for the bird outside of the window, giving the impression she's left. I slide my shorts over my underwear and my green top over my singlet and my ugh.... You know.
The see through top flows lightly in the pattern of the wind from the open window, making me smile. I look pretty nice today. I wonder over to the bathroom sink and open the mirror cabinet thing. I pull out my make-up bag and unzip it, pulling out my lip-gloss, mascara and eyeliner. I can't put on any eye-shadow, if I did I'll look just like a clown who's been soaked in water. I laugh at my own simile, applying my eyeliner. Ah, one detail I love about myself is my perfection of applying my eyeliner... I finish and put the lid back on before getting out my mascara.
I cover my eyelashes thickly with black mascara and get out a tiny comb thing used for evening the mascara, kinda un-lumpyfying the make-up. I brush my eyelashes upwards and smile at how surprisingly good-looking I look. I apply a thin coat of lip-gloss and brush my hair up into a high ponytail.
I put away my make-up and shut the door. I walk out, closing the bathroom door before exiting the bedroom. I run down the stairs and jump into my seat. BMO claps at my success and I stand on the chair, bowing. "Sit down little rebel, you." Cake teases. I stick my tongue out and jump down on the floor before sitting.
I look at the butt-load of pancakes sitting in-front of me. I exhale deeply, squeezing syrup all over them. I grab my fork and stab one, shoving it in my mouth, I chew then swallow in a matter of seconds. "These are wonderful!" I yell at Cake. She nods. "I am awesome, aren't I?" She asks. I nod and demolish half the stack of pancakes within minutes.
I sit back feeling stuffed. "Okay, I'm done." I inform everyone. Cake pulls my plate towards her and eats my left-overs. We all hear a knock at the door and I tell them all I'll get it. I wobble over to the door and open it, revealing Gumbutt. "Hey Gumbu- I mean Gumball," I welcome him. "Hello Fionna," he replies, smiling. I smile back up at him. Damn my shortness!
"I'm having a grand ball tonight in honour of you saving me from the Ice Queen yesterday," he informs me. I sigh, memories of yesterday flooding me. "Won't you come as my special guest?" He asks. I blush. "You wan't me to go to the ball with you?" I ask, butterflies filling me. "Heck yeah! As my special pal!" Every girly thought leaves my head and I get a bit angry. "Maybe, I'll see what I'm doing later, okay?" I reply coldly. He claps. "Hope to see you there!" He exclaims.
I smile harshly, pretending to take an interest in this. "Here's an invitation for you and Cake," he says, passing me two pink sheets of paper rolled up with ribbon tied to it, holding it in place. I smile back at him and he says goodbye before leaving. I shut the door and before I get a chance to hide the invitations, Cake runs up to me and yanks one out of my hand.
She delicately un-ties the ribbon and reads it. "Fionna, we have to go! Everyone in Aaa is going!" She squeals, reading my mind. Typical Cake. I sigh while opening the invitation. I read the list of names, scanning through it. About half way through the names, I read in neat handwriting, Marshall Lee. I mentally jump up and down in joy. "Fine!" I huff, pretending not wanting to go. At least someone will be there with me to moan about the lame party.
