The morning started with spilled syrup and ended with flying spoons.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Which, as everyone in the café had learned, meant trouble.
Sabel stood behind the counter, spinning a caramel stick like a sword. "I feel it, Percy. Something's off."
Percy, the parrot, perched upside down on a ceiling beam. "You always say that before you burn the toast."
"No," Sabel whispered dramatically. "It's something… magical. Mischievous. Tiny."
Then—THWAP!
His hat flew off and landed in the soup pot.
"Witchcraft!" he screamed.
Act 1: A Battle Unseen
Sabel ducked behind the counter. A muffin disappeared off the tray. A napkin slapped him across the face. Someone—or something—was here.
Rosemary, sipping coffee in the corner, muttered, "Probably one of those pesky café pixies. They like honey, chaos, and shiny forks."
"Aha!" Sabel leaped onto a chair. "I hereby challenge thee, invisible coffee-gremlin!"
The pixie responded by tying his shoelaces together.
He fell.
Act 2: Operation Catch-the-Unseeable
Sabel smeared whipped cream across the counters. "Pixie footprints! I read it in a cookbook once!"
Nothing.
Then he scattered chocolate chips across the floor like traps.
Still nothing.
Then, from behind the espresso machine: squeaky giggles.
"Got you now, you translucent twerp!" Sabel roared, hurling a handful of coffee grounds into the air.
A spoon floated, spun, and hit him square in the nose.
Act 3: Plan B (Banana Trap)
"Percy," he said, "I need bait. Get the banana muffin. The golden one."
Percy gasped. "The Legendary Muffin? It's only baked for birthdays and royal guests!"
"It's me. I count."
They placed the muffin on a velvet cushion. Sabel waited behind a curtain, holding a net made of tea towels.
Seconds passed.
Then—movement.
The muffin… levitated.
He charged.
The net tangled. He yelled. The pixie spun him in circles. He slipped on chocolate chips and flung the whipped cream bucket across the room.
It landed on Rosemary.
She didn't speak. She simply held up a sign that read: "I'm going to throw you into next Tuesday."
Act 4: Truth in Coffee
After a half-hour of chaos, the café was a battlefield of toppled chairs, floating forks, and whipped cream angels.
Sabel sat on the floor, hair spiked, pride shattered.
The muffin floated back down—untouched.
Then, a giggle. And a tiny shimmer of magic near the sugar jar. The pixie briefly flickered into view—about the size of a mouse, wings like cinnamon flakes, and eyes sparkling with sass.
Sabel smirked.
"You're not evil," he said, "you're just hangry, huh?"
He poured a drop of sweet cream into a thimble.
The pixie slurped it up.
Vanished again—happily.
No more chaos.
For now.