Strawberry Shortcake puckered her lips when she felt the strawberries in the sack. Seeds, stems, juice running all over her fingers… the party was in 15 minutes! "Custard?"
"Yeah." Her sassy, cool pink cat was soaking up the sunlight.
"Custard." Strawberry ran out to the front room, shaking the bag. "Custard, you got real strawberries."
"I know, right? Only the best for my beautiful berry."
"Yeah, but Beautiful Berry wanted fake berries. She wanted fake berries."
Custard the Cat gave her a long, withering glance - that was, consequently, wasting more time. "Now why would you want fake strawberries."
She blinked. "For my six-torte strawberry flower tower."
"Strawberry, your house is literally made of strawberries." Indeed, the berry bungalow had a nasty fly problem. "What would possess you to add more strawberries to your décor?"
"Custard… "
"Like it's too mu - it's too many strawberries. Ah. My eyes." Custard rolled on her back, a paw over her eyes. "See? My eyes are red. They're literally - I'm seeing red from seeing too many strawberries."
"I don't care what you're seeing," Strawberry snapped. "It's my motif."
"Just make your torte tower with those… "
"No, Custard. Because I'm not having that stupid-ass dog run up and try to eat my centerpiece while I have company over!"
Pupcake looked up from chasing his tail, hurt.
"She didn't mean that, Pupcake," Custard called. "Your language is offensive."
"What am I supposed to do with six hundred strawberries!"
"Did you really just ask that. You're Strawberry Shortcake! Figure out something."
"Okay, you know what, fine. Fuck the centerpiece. We can just eat staring at a blank brick wall from now on - "
"Strawberry, who are you cussing at, first of all? Why are you cussing? You throw parties every single day. There's no need to get all histrionic and supersonic."
"… I don't know what that means, and I don't care." Strawberry bent over, swiping cat toys off the floor. "Pick up your damn shit! This ain't a hotel!"
"All you do is yell at me!"
"You should be lucky all I do is yell. You should be lucky I don't cook your ass along with this strawberry pie."
"Good thing you didn't. Besides, who'd want to eat Custard? … Never mind. Don't answer that."
The themed - Straw-buh-buh-buh-buh-berry - doorbell rang.
Strawberry kicked the cat out the window and smoothed her strawberry-print apron, pasting on a Straw-tastic smile.
Custard popped her little head back in. "Strawberry Shortcake, you're a bitch."
She grabbed the sack and emptied all six hundred strawberries onto her head.