Disclaimer: I do not own Lion King
Pumbaa had gotten a new job and wasn't exactly excited. Timon on the other hand, was ecstatic, for one specific reason: Disney. They got to live in Disney, not just in a resort near the park, but in the official Disney resort, with the monorail running through it. Packed with people, ready to go to the place where dreams come true, they moved, all their possessions, and their small son Simba to the insanely overpriced and unbelievably luxurious resort so Pumbaa could work as the head chef. Timon was happy their son would be able to have such an amazing childhood after the trauma of hi earlier years, before the two men adopted the small child. Pumbaa was not excited because he'd have to be around people and, as most know, he's a bit odorous. Pumbaa was nervous what the others would think but when he told Timon he was drown out with distracting kisses that seemed to rain down from the heavens. As they finished packing all their things, and making sure Simba was buckled in, they set off, they had a long trip ahead of them from Africa to Florida.
When they finally arrived at their new flat, they had to admit, it was a big step up from their previous homes, having bounced around a bit. It was luxurious to say the least and Timon was in heaven. Simba looked a bit nervous so Pumbaa took his small hand and offered a reassuring smile as they trailed after Timon on their tour of the house. It was more along the lines of a hotel with cookie-cutter wallpaper and dull paintings lining the walls but Timon seemed to see something different. They had their own kitchen with all the latest things and three bedrooms, each with a bed larger than the last, four bathrooms, one with a Jacuzzi tub, a laundry room, two living rooms, each equip with flat screen televisions. Pumbaa couldn't wait for their boxes to arrive so he didn't have to look at all the fancy and overly clean surfaces anymore. Simba seemed to be getting more and more nervous with each passing room so instead of just holding his hand, which seemed to have stopped soothing the boy, he picked him up and sat him on his blubbery hip. Timon's wiry form darted in and out of rooms excitably while Pumbaa lumbered after him; his fat belly and anxious stomach were making him more nervous than ever. He couldn't wait to get the windows open so he could let loose at last without the fear of giving poor little Simba brain damage.
Timon was unpacking in the other room with Simba while Pumbaa was in the bathroom looking nervously in the mirror. Would he intimidate the other cooks? Would they like him? Would they accept him? Would they find his smell toxic and unbearable? He'd promised to take his husband and their son to Magic Kingdom after he met his new team, having been told today was just a meet and great, not actually his first day. He adjusted his tie again, feeling it didn't really suit him. He smiled in the mirror, his bottom set of canines jutting up menacingly. He decided closed mouth smiles would be better. He tried to push his flop of hair back but the black mess jut flopped forward again. He looked at his brown suit and tan tie and sighed. It didn't do anything to conceal his large stomach or short limbs. He turned away from the mirror, not having liked what it had shown him and kissed Timon and Simba goodbye before heading to the kitchens.
Much to Pumbaa's surprise and a little to his upset, he arrived to a line of straight back people in crisp white uniforms, each standing along a counter behind a plate. A thin man in a tux approached Pumbaa and he had to resist the urge to back away warily.
"Welcome Sir." He said in a haughty, looking-down-his-nose sort of way. "These will be the cooks working for you. They have been asked to prepare a dish to describe themselves for you." He said before turning to leave.
"Thanks." Pumbaa mumbled sarcastically under his breath. He looked down the line at each person and wondered if they were all as terrified as he. "So…" He paused, not knowing where to go with this. "Are you all as nervous as I am?" He laughed. This seemed to ease them a bit but they all still remained silent. "Am I really supposed to try all of these? Even I couldn't do that. How about you tell me about yourselves?" He said as he stepped up to the first person. "What'd you make?" He asked.
"Chicken tacos with soft tortillas. They have tomatoes sour cream and cheese inside and a the side, black beans and white rice." He said proudly.
"Why'd you choose that?" Pumbaa asked as he eyed the delicious looking plate.
"I am from Mexico and I wanted something that would show that." He said. Pumbaa nodded and smiled at the Mexican.
"Looks good." He smiled as he pushed the plate towards its maker who looked hesitant before he began to eat it. A smile and nod from his new boss gave him increased fervor as he devoured the rest. Pumbaa went down the line like that for each person, and they all seemed like very nice and very talented people. By the time he had finished with the last person, he was at least two hours late to take Timon and Simba to the castle so he hurried back to the room.
Pumbaa flopped down on the couch, Simba sleeping on his ample belly and Timon resting his head on his broad shoulder. "That was fun." Pumbaa smiled, exhausted as he pulled off his Minnie Mouse ears, Timon had argued his way into getting the Mickey ones. One of Simba's tiny hands were clutching Pumbaa's shirt while the other was white knuckled around a small wooden sword he'd cried his way into getting after meeting Peter Pan, his hero. Pumbaa smiled, maybe it wouldn't be that bad after all he sighed as he slipped his thick hand into Timon's.