...
The sun-dappled side of a rocky mountain basked in the warmth of a perfect, cloudless afternoon. A gentle breeze rustled through vibrant green pines, carrying with it the cheerful, melodic trill of mountain bluebirds. A small, winding dirt road snaked its way up the steep incline, picture-perfect and inviting.
Zac was skipping along the path.
He bounded upward with a joyful, springy step, laughing as he played in the beautiful weather. Two thick, perfectly braided golden pigtails bounced against his shoulders with every skip, tied off with dainty red ribbons that fluttered in the wind. He didn't question the hair, or the sudden idyllic alpine setting. He was just vibing.
Zac stopped mid-skip, his nose twitching as he sniffed the breeze.
"Oh shit, is someone cooking waffles? Fuck yea," he said cheerfully.
He abandoned his skipping and followed his nose, letting the rich, buttery scent of toasted batter and maple syrup guide him off the main path. He pushed through a thicket of bushes and came to a sudden halt.
Carved into the sheer rocky cliff face was the horrible, gaping mouth of a cave. It didn't look like a natural geological formation; it looked exactly like the maw of a massive, subterranean beast. Jagged stalactites and stalagmites jutted from the ceiling and floor, interlocking perfectly like rows of razor-sharp teeth. The cheerful birdsong abruptly died at the threshold, and the air bleeding out from the darkness was significantly colder, carrying a damp, ominous chill.
"Hmm," Zac thought, a bubbly, unbothered smile spreading across his face. He cupped his hands around his mouth, took a deep breath, and yelled into the dark.
"Hey! Is there anyone in there?! I smell waffles and I'm starving! All this frolicking has really worked up an appetite!"
His voice echoed down into the pitch-black depths. He waited, rocking back and forth on his heels.
There was no answer from the spooky death cave. Not even a rustle.
"Well, alright then," Zac said, giving a carefree shrug. His hunger easily overrode whatever proper etiquette existed for breaking and entering into a terrifying monster lair. With his golden pigtails swishing behind him, he marched right past the stone teeth and disappeared into the gloom.
Zac walked through the cave, which seemed like it had been carved into the mountain by hand. It was quite easy for him to skip along since the ground was perfectly flat, with no jagged rocks to catch his feet. The deeper he went, the more the natural sunlight faded away behind him, swallowed by the thick, heavy silence and the encroaching dark.
"Do do do," Zac hummed to himself as he noticed the flicker of firelight ahead of him. "That's lucky. It's pretty dark in here."
He approached an odd sight: a massive, polished wooden dining table sitting right in the middle of the cavern, surrounded by lit torches in iron sconces. But Zac's mind was not giving too much effort to thinking about the logistical weirdness of a formal dining setup in a creepy dark cave. His mind was laser-focused on one thing.
Waffles.
Zac looked across the table. There were three plates, each with a waffle resting on top, neatly laid out with polished silverware and folded cloth napkins.
He leaned over and took a deep sniff. "Mmmm, that's the good stuff."
Without a second thought, Zac immediately ran up to the first setting, grabbed the waffle with both hands, and tried to take a huge bite out of it.
CLANG.
A sharp jolt of pain ran through Zac's jaw, rattling his teeth. "Yaow! What the-"
He pulled the pastry away from his face and looked down at it. It was a waffle, complete with perfect square grids, but it was made of solid, heavy, 24-karat gold.
Zac unceremoniously dropped it back onto the table. The fine china plate shattered instantly under the immense weight of the gold waffle.
"NEXT."
He shimmied over to the second plate, picked up the waffle, and, once again, took a huge, unhesitating bite.
His teeth sank in. It was soft, squishy, and room-temperature. Zac's eyes went wide. He convulsed and aggressively spat it out.
Splat. Slightly chewed, raw, bloody meat sprayed across the table and the silverware.
"What," Zac sputtered, wiping his tongue with the back of his hand, "who ordered waffle meatloaf?!"
He looked down at the offending meal in his hand. Stamped directly into the middle of the raw meat waffle was the distinct silhouette of a Bicorn. Zac frowned in disgust and dropped the high-protein faux breakfast food back onto its plate with a wet, squelching slap.
Finally, Zac approached the third and final plate. He was much more cautious this time. He leaned in, looking at it closely. He sniffed it. He poked it with a finger. It yielded with a satisfying, crispy crunch.
Finally, he took a hesitant, tiny bite.
Zac's eyes went wide.
Nomnomnom!
Zac basically unhinged his jaw and devoured the rest of the waffle in a single, inhaling breath.
"Perfect," he said wistfully as he picked up the provided napkin and daintily patted at his lips. "The blueberries even tasted fresh."
Zac stretched his arms high overhead, his golden pigtails lifting with the motion, and let out a loud, satisfied burp. Immediately after, his stomach gave a deep, familiar rumble.
Zac smiled, patting his belly. "Nothing like a post-breakfast poop to get the day going on the right foot."
He looked around the dimly lit cave, and, as if by dream magic, a sturdy wooden door materialized in the rock wall, complete with a tasteful, hand-painted sign that read: Lavatory.
Zac nodded in approval and skipped over to the door. "I'm glad March has instructed his creepy, sentient keep to begin labeling the bathrooms. Total lifesaver."
He pushed the door open. The inside of the cave bathroom was surprisingly sparse. Zac didn't really mind that the dream hadn't rendered much in the way of decor; all that mattered was that there were three distinct choices of toilets lined up against the far wall.
Zac strutted up to the first one, grabbed the hem of his newly-manifested leopard-print sundress, hiked it up, and sat down on the rim with a confident huff.
He instantly jumped straight up into the air.
"COLD!" he wailed, rubbing his goosebump-covered thighs.
He looked back at the throne. The entire toilet, the bowl, the tank, the seat... was completely made of solid, unyielding gold. It was ostentatious and aggressively un-ergonomic. Zac shook his head in disgust before waddling a few feet to the side to take a look at the second option.
He paused. The second toilet was an engineering marvel, but not in a good way. It was outfitted with multiple heavy-duty handlebars, leather foot straps bolted to the floor, and what looked suspiciously like a five-point racing harness draped over the tank.
Zac frowned deeply. "Nope. I am not strapping myself in to take a shit. That's just asking for trauma."
He waddled a bit further along until he saw, luckily, that the third toilet seemed completely, blissfully average. White porcelain, a standard plastic seat, and a normal flush handle.
Zac smiled, hiking his sundress up again, and popped a squat.
"Ahh," he sighed, relaxing his shoulders. "Just right."
After his post-meal pushing, Zac stepped back out into the main expanse of the cave, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn.
"All that pooping really tired me out," Zac declared to the empty cavern. "I think I'll take a nap."
He began to wander a bit deeper into the cave, peering through the gloom to find where a bedroom might naturally occur in a subterranean rock formation. Suddenly, a helpful, glowing wooden sign popped into existence overhead, a bright red arrow pointing around a bend in the tunnel.
Alright, Zac thought, shrugging. This is an awesome cave, so why not trust it?