Barnaby's Giant Birthday Cake and the Icing Pixies

Barnaby Button had a problem. A very, very large, sugary problem. It sat, gleaming under a protective tarpaulin in his back garden, and it smelled, oh, it smelled divine. It was a cake. But not just any cake. This cake was the size of a small car.

Barnaby’s Aunt Mildred, a woman known for her eccentric baking and even more eccentric pets (she once owned a parrot that could recite Shakespeare backwards), had promised him a cake for his ninth birthday. He’d imagined a nice Victoria sponge, perhaps with some raspberry jam. He definitely hadn’t imagined *this*.

The note tied to the tarpaulin, in Aunt Mildred’s spidery handwriting, read: "Barnaby, darling! A little something for your special day. Enjoy! P.S. Watch out for the icing pixies. They nip!"

Icing pixies? Barnaby gulped. He cautiously pulled back the tarpaulin.

The cake was magnificent. A multi-layered masterpiece of chocolate and vanilla, swirled with mountains of buttercream and sprinkled with edible glitter. A sugary castle, complete with fondant turrets and gummy bear knights, sat proudly on top. But Barnaby wasn't thinking about gummy bears. He was peering into the buttercream valleys, half expecting to see tiny, winged creatures with pointy hats and a penchant for biting.

His best friend, Maisie McMillan, arrived, her ginger pigtails bouncing. "Woah! What is that thing?" she gasped, eyes wide.

Barnaby explained about Aunt Mildred and the icing pixies. Maisie, a practical girl who didn’t believe in fairies (or, at least, pretended not to), scoffed. "Icing pixies? Don’t be daft, Barnaby. It's probably just wasps."

Together, they circled the colossal cake. They poked it cautiously with sticks. They smelled the sugary air, trying to detect the faint buzz of tiny wings. Nothing.

“I’m starving,” Maisie announced. “Let’s just… sample it.”

Barnaby hesitated. "But what if the pixies…?”

Maisie rolled her eyes. Grabbing a spoon from her pocket (she always carried a spoon, just in case), she scooped a generous dollop of buttercream and shoved it in her mouth. "Mmm! Delicious! See? No pixies."

Barnaby cautiously followed suit. The buttercream was heavenly. Chocolatey, sweet, and utterly irresistible. They ate for a good ten minutes, giggling and making a right mess of themselves.

Suddenly, Maisie stopped. "Did you hear that?"

A tiny, high-pitched giggle echoed from within the cake. Barnaby froze.

"I told you!" he whispered.

They crept closer. The giggling grew louder, accompanied by the sound of tiny footsteps. Then, a small, sparkly figure popped its head out from behind a fondant turret. It was about the size of Barnaby’s thumb, with iridescent wings and a mischievous grin.

"Well, well, well," it squeaked. "Look what we have here. Cake thieves!"

More pixies appeared, armed with tiny lances made of pretzel sticks. Barnaby and Maisie stared, speechless.

"We weren't stealing!" Barnaby protested. "It's my birthday!"

The pixie leader, who wore a tiny crown made of crystallised ginger, narrowed his eyes. "Prove it! Answer this riddle: What has an icing body, a gummy bear heart, and dreams of conquering the world?"

Barnaby thought hard. Maisie, meanwhile, spotted a jar of sprinkles. She grabbed it and shook it violently. The pixies, mesmerised by the showering colours, forgot all about their pretzel lances.

“A gummy bear knight!” Barnaby shouted triumphantly.

The pixie leader sighed dramatically. “Alright, alright. You may pass. But remember,” he added with a wink, “leave some for us!”

Barnaby and Maisie grinned. They knew exactly what to do. They spent the rest of the afternoon sharing the enormous cake with all their friends, leaving plenty of buttercream valleys for the tiny, mischievous icing pixies. And, as the sun began to set, they were pretty sure they saw the pixie leader raise a tiny pretzel lance in a toast. It was, without a doubt, the best birthday ever.