The lie that was a cake that wasn't a cake that was a lie that was a cake that wasn't a lie... (Beast Cookies S1E11)
This story is NOT canon to the lore of Cookie Run: Kingdom, nor do the characters involved are accurately represented as they are in the game. They are otherwise different, more dumbed-down impersonations. CRK lore enthusiasts do not slam me in the comments section. Never buy something with from a name that is an instant red flag.
It started, as most catastrophes do, with a harmless idea.
Shadow Milk Cookie, in an uncharacteristic display of sentimentality (or boredom, no one could tell), suggested they celebrate Eternal Sugar Cookie’s "existence." Despite her long-standing status as missing, her cardboard cutout had, against all odds, remained a steadfast member of their team. Thus, a cake was deemed appropriate.
"We should order the biggest, most extravagant cake possible," Mystic Flour Cookie declared, dramatically throwing a pinch of glitter into the air. It immediately turned into bats.
"Fire," Burning Spice Cookie added sagely.
"No fire," Silent Salt Cookie signed, their lack of enthusiasm palpable.
"Fine," Burning Spice Cookie pouted. "But if something goes wrong, I am setting it on fire."
With all the grace of a government-mandated friendship event, they collectively marched toward the nearest bakery. The establishment in question was called "Deceptively Delicious." The name should have been a red flag, but no one in this team was particularly wise.
Upon entering, they were immediately greeted by an unsettlingly cheerful cashier, whose smile was suspiciously wide. The menu board behind them seemed to shimmer oddly, as if the letters were shifting when no one was looking.
"Welcome to Deceptively Delicious! Where nothing is what it seems, and everything is what it isn't! How may I help you?" the cashier chirped.
"We need a cake," Mystic Flour Cookie declared. "A massive one. Extravagant. Fit for a—" she hesitated, then cleared her throat. "A very important cardboard cutout."
"Ah, an existential order! Excellent choice," the cashier nodded. "Would you like it to be real, or would you like the illusion of cake?"
"...Real?" Shadow Milk Cookie said slowly, narrowing his eyes.
"A bold decision! Very well, your cake will be prepared and delivered promptly. That will be $50"
"Fifty?!" Mystic Flour Cookie gasped. "What a steal!"
"Oh no, robbery is extra. That would be another $20," the cashier corrected.
Silent Salt Cookie wordlessly dropped the cash onto the counter. The cashier gave them a knowing wink. "Oh, this will be fun."
The cake arrived in a box larger than Shadow Milk Cookie’s ego. It was pristine, grand, and undeniably real. Or was it?
"It's beautiful," Mystic Flour Cookie gasped, nearly fainting from sheer excitement. "A marvel of confectionery!"
"A necessary tribute," Shadow Milk Cookie said, crossing his arms dramatically. "Even if life is but a void, this cake stands as proof that deceit can be sweet."
Silent Salt Cookie poked it. Hard. It wobbled but didn’t collapse. That should have been another red flag.
"Something is off," they signed, their expression unreadable.
Burning Spice Cookie, naturally, set a corner of it on fire just to check. It burned like paper.
"This isn't a cake!" Mystic Flour Cookie shrieked, scandalized.
"It's a—" Shadow Milk Cookie paused. "A lie?"
"No, it's a cake!" Mystic Flour Cookie argued, desperately breaking off a piece and shoving it into her mouth. "Tastes like... existential dread and artificial vanilla."
"So... a lie?" Shadow Milk Cookie reiterated, glaring at the cake as if it had personally betrayed him.
"We’ve been deceived," Silent Salt Cookie signed gravely. "Unless—"
"UNLESS THE CAKE NEVER EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Mystic Flour Cookie howled.
The room went silent. Then chaos erupted.
Burning Spice Cookie set the rest of it ablaze. Mystic Flour Cookie screamed. Shadow Milk Cookie brooded harder than he ever had before. Silent Salt Cookie stood completely still, unblinking.
When the fire finally died down, only a single note remained, charred at the edges:
"The cake was a cake that was a lie that was a cake that wasn’t a cake that was a lie that was a cake that wasn’t a lie. Refunds are unavailable. Thank you for choosing Deceptively Delicious."
No one spoke for a while.
"...So what do we do now?" Shadow Milk Cookie finally asked.
Silent Salt Cookie held up a match. "Bake. Our. Own."
Burning Spice Cookie grinned wildly. "Fire?"
Mystic Flour Cookie cracked her knuckles. "Magic."
Shadow Milk Cookie dramatically turned away. "Deceit."
And thus, in a fitting conclusion to their self-inflicted misfortune, the crew embarked on the most cursed baking journey known to cookie-kind.
(They burned down the kitchen within the hour.)
But then, as the smoke cleared, something emerged from the ashes.
"Wait... is that?" Mystic Flour Cookie gasped, pointing at a perfectly intact cake sitting on the charred remains of the table.
"Impossible! The cake was destroyed!" Shadow Milk Cookie narrowed his eyes. "Yet here it is... unscathed."
Silent Salt Cookie carefully touched the cake. It was soft. It smelled like vanilla. It was, by all accounts, real.
"It was never a lie," Mystic Flour Cookie whispered in awe.
"Unless..." Shadow Milk Cookie hesitated. "This is the true deception."
"Only one way to find out." Burning Spice Cookie grabbed a fork and stabbed the cake. The fork passed through with ease. He took a bite. He chewed. He swallowed. "It's real."
"Wait." Silent Salt Cookie signed, frowning. "What if the real cake was the lie, and the fake cake was the truth?"
"That makes no sense," Mystic Flour Cookie said. "And yet, somehow, it makes too much sense."
Shadow Milk Cookie picked up the note again. It now read: "The cake that was a lie that wasn't a cake that was a cake that was a lie has become a cake that is and isn't. Have a nice day."
They all stared at the cake. It stared back. Or maybe it didn't. They couldn't be sure anymore.
Burning Spice Cookie set it on fire again.
When the flames died down, the cake was still there.
"...So the cake wasn’t a lie?" Mystic Flour Cookie asked weakly.
"Or was it?" Shadow Milk Cookie countered.
"Or wasn’t it?" Silent Salt Cookie added.
"Fire." Burning Spice Cookie grinned.
And thus, the cycle continued, long into the night, as they debated, burned, re-discovered, burned again, doubted, re-confirmed, and re-burned the cake that was a lie that wasn't a cake that was a lie that was a cake that wasn't a lie...
Until they all passed out from sheer exhaustion, leaving the cake—whatever it was—to sit triumphantly in the center of the destruction.
