Whoa! Just how did you manage to get a cake this big? And why isn't it on fire as it has been for all of my birthdays thus far?
Well, we all figured that you'd be picky about the type of cake you get this time around, and none of us could decide on a flavor, so we figured that you wouldn't mind if we just got you one that's gigantic. Plus, we've been looking into it for the past few years, and it appears that setting your cake on fire and waiting for the candles and cake to melt actually makes it taste worse. So! Instead, we will be lighting small fires, and only to the candles this time.
I don't know. Something about that doesn't sound all that right. Ah well, I'll give it a shot. Hand me the firestick.
[A few seconds later, and everything is complete! Though there's the tiniest sound, that sounds like a female sucking her teeth.] Tsk.
Right! In accordance with your yearly celebration, we are all very proud to present you with this cake. Enjoy! Oh, no, wait. Before you dig into it, you are supposed to blow out the candles. We just talked about this.
Are you sure? ...well alright. Just this one time.
[Suddenly, there's one puff of breath.] Three. [Another puff.] Two. [Another.] One. [One more, followed by the sound of ammunition being loaded into a gun, and a loud pop.]
You wanted a bunny girl?! Huh?! I'll show ya a bunny girl! [Followed by the sound of gunfire and a few disagreeing grunts of disapproval at what's happening. After a while of this going on, there's a few clicking sounds. No more bullets.] Tch. Enjoy what's left of your cake, ya bastards. [Lodging her guns back into her basket, she notices that her guide isn't in there. It's actually lodged in the cake. So after getting it out, she wipes it clean, accidentally turning the video feed on.]
There we go. [Enjoy that view of Bonnie Hood, minus her usual clothes and plus a bunny girl outfit, a rather disheveled room and a few unpleased looking aliens, looking as if what happened was really more of just a mild inconvienience. In the background:]
I think we're going to skip the celebration next year.
[And the feed cuts off.]