Polca pys

A silly little story about a baker and her peculia pys

In the quaint village of Dingleberry resided Mildred, a baker with a penchant for peculiar pastries. Her scones sparkled with edible glitter, her pies played jaunty jingles when sliced, and her cookies sang opera in the moonlight (poorly, but enthusiastically). One crisp autumn day, Mildred stumbled upon a peculiar pumpkin unlike any other. It pulsed with a faint neon glow and hummed a catchy polka tune. Intrigued, Mildred whipped up a pie using this pumpkin and delivered it to the annual Dingleberry Pie Festival.
The pie, upon receiving first prize, launched itself into the air, showering the judges in whipped cream and a surprisingly catchy pop song about the merits of rhubarb. Chaos ensued. A runaway pie stampeded through a troupe of clog-wearing dancers, a particularly enthusiastic goose honked along to the pie's song, and Mildred, covered in whipped cream, looked on in bewilderment. News of the musical pie reached the ears of the eccentric Duchess of Dingleberry, who was obsessed with polka music. She whisked Mildred away to her polka-themed palace, demanding a repeat performance.
Mildred, ever the resourceful baker, baked an entire orchestra of pies �" a blueberry flute, a cherry accordion, a banana-cream tuba. The pies played a glorious polka, the Duchess waltzed with a particularly handsome footstool, and Mildred, for her contribution to Dingleberry's merriment, was declared official Pie-romancer (a title that came with a rather fetching hat and a lifetime supply of polka-dotted aprons). The village of Dingleberry never forgot the day the pies came alive, a testament to the fact that even the most ordinary baked goods can hold the most extraordinary surprises.

Author's Note

I know its short but I hope you like it.

Reviews

[Sally]

this story is the most funny and eccentric short story but I have ever read and that I will probably ever read!