Doc McStuffins, renowned children’s doctor and purveyor of perfectly-poured cocoa, was having a crisis. Not a medical crisis, mind you – those were usually solved with a well-placed Band-Aid and a reassuring smile. No, this was a cocoa crisis. A catastrophic, frothy, chocolatey calamity.
It all started with the new cocoa machine. A marvel of modern milk-frothing technology, it promised the perfect cup every time. But Doc, in her enthusiasm, had accidentally programmed it to “maximum deliciousness,” a setting clearly designed for mythical cocoa-loving giants.
“Lambie!” she cried, waving a giant, overflowing mug. “The cocoa! It’s…exploding!”
Lambie, her trusty stuffed lamb, bleated sympathetically. Stuffy, the dinosaur, peered cautiously from his perch on the shelf, his button eyes wide with concern.
“It’s a cocoa tsunami!” Doc declared, desperately trying to stem the tide of chocolatey goodness with a spatula. “We need a plan!”
Stuffy, ever the pragmatist, suggested they just drink the excess. Lambie, however, had a different idea. He began to frantically lick up the cocoa spilled on the floor.
“Stuffy, that’s not sanitary!” Doc exclaimed, but then paused. Looking at the rapidly diminishing mountain of cocoa-infused foam, she grinned. “Well,” she said, her eyes twinkling, “at least the floor is clean…and delicious.” She grabbed the spatula and joined Lambie, making a happy, chocolatey mess of themselves in the process. It was chaos, certainly, but Doc McStuffins decided: this was the best kind of chaos.
