A group of four or five mochi in different colors and shapes stood in an outward facing circle, but none of them appeared to be playing drums. In fact, the chomp realized, what he had initially assumed to be the sound of drums beating was in fact, the sound of these boy-band mochis beatboxing. Their voices all carried the same low pitch, and were so expertly used to simulate the sound of drum-beats that it was impossible to tell that they came from a self-aware dessert.

"Impressive", observed the chomp.

"Aii, what's up Mo-pup?" One of the orange colored beatboxing mochi broke up the circle to hail the now rapidly recovering mochi that had rested on the chomp's shoulder all this while.

"Big-mon, it's been a while and then some, hey?" Mo leapt from its perch on the chomp's shoulder and wobbled over to the orange mochi.

"This chomp saved my dough", Mo said, pointing to the chomp, who then proceeded to introduce himself.

"So you're all freshly made mochi right?" The chomp asked.

"Yeah, most of us been born within the week", replied Big-mon.

A dessert, a chomp-made dessert, coming to life within a week of its inception? This was unnatural indeed. But it was becoming a common unnatural in Cakelandia from the chomp's experiences elsewhere. What was uncommon was that this was also potentially the bakery which made the pies that had attacked the chomp's group with directed malice.

"Did you see any freshly baked pies wake up and walk out of this bakery?" The chomp asked.

Mo chuckled. Big-mon shuddered. Suddenly, there was an ebb in sound on their rooftop as the boy-band mochis stopped beatboxing, although it continued elsewhere. Everyone looked towards Mo expectantly, who cleared its throat.

"Now, that's a story worth telling", it began.