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The sun does not yet grace the City of Anteronia; the city doesn't sleep. On the corner of Innocence Avenue, nestled in an old house, repurposed as part of a sprawling local business district, the fires of ovens already burn. Deep in the kitchen, the wooden creation works when no others have clocked in for the day. The mannequin stirs the batter, kneads the dough, and sets the timer. All of this is done as part of a ritual he’s worked on ever since his life was graced by a certain pink kobold who gave him everything he needed.

He pours the newest batter into the mold and sticks it inside the giant oven, turning and humming to himself as he mixes the frosting. He then slides some wax paper by the oven and places the frosting beside it, hanging up his chef's hat and apron before going off to his other duties. He doesn't grow idle, even in the long time it takes to bake the treat, take stock of ingredients, and work on tables, but as the hours pass, the excitement grows within him. He places a hand over where his heart would be and shudders all over, his form falling limp, collapsing on the table before him.

When he awakens, he pushes himself out of the mold and is beautiful. Naked but without all the finer touches, the Baker steps out with dainty feet onto the wax paper. He takes a spatula, slips the frosting on it, and lathers it over his head, humming and bouncing to the beat of his little song.

Once his hair is in place, he shuffles along, perusing through a drawer of candies, pulling from them two perfectly blue beads and setting them in his eyes. With a blink, he flutters those perfect peepers and then steps toward the caramel that's been hardening. He plucks them up and places them on his eyelids, blinking and letting those lashes flutter. That's when he dips a finger into the strawberry jam, swirling around, pressing it to his lips, slipping around and puckering, leaving his mouth glazey and delicious.

The door to the bakery opens, and through it steps a human woman, slightly plump but exhausted. She yawns as she shuffles off to the back, passing the dining area and heading back toward the lockers.

"Oh, Libi, darling!" Baker says, throwing on his apron and slipping on his slippers. He skips over toward her. "You caught me putting on my face. Am I that late today?"

"Oh, hey, boss," Libi says, stretching. "Yeah, I'm not late if that's what you're asking."

"Oh my," Baker sighs. "Well, I'd better get dressed. There’s no need to doll up anymore, I suppose. Could you be a dear and stuff me in the bedroom?"

Libi nods and approaches the mannequin, hefting its arm over her shoulder. She walks past the kitchen and towards the back once more. "You gotta stop leaving this lying around."

"Oh, you know me," Baker says, slipping one foot into a pair of dainty edible underwear and then the other, sliding it up to cover what the apron barely concealed. I'm always so absent-minded when it comes to the old vessel."

Libi places the body in the old bedroom, sighing as she glances over the sparsely decorated space. "Baker, do you even use this place for anything?"

Baker pokes his head in and saunters past her. "Oh, but of course, my dear," he says, opening the closet door. Within is a cornucopia of clothing. He tosses off his apron and then slips on his jacket, twirling around and buttoning it before her. "It's where I keep all my fashion."

"Never really thought about how you don't sleep… I'm jealous."

"Oh, don't be," Baker says, patting her cheek. "There are many things afforded to those who can sleep that I simply do not have the luxury of having. Now, then, make sure the front of the house is stocked. I have the others to greet!"

Having found and slid on his pants and shoes, Baker hums as he trots down the hall and to the front door, stepping outside and holding his arms wide. "Hello, world! Let's make it another great day for everyone, shall we!?"

Among the usual throng of assistants and employees joining him for his daily ritual, another individual stands across the street, watching him. She dresses in a business suit, a rabbit creature with her ears tied back and glasses resting over her red eyes. She carries a parasol in her hand without the sun even being up yet. When she and Baker make eye contact, she steps forward, her heels clicking over the pavement, and she produces paper from her jacket. "Baker, of Baker's Bakery?”

"Why yes, that's me, Darling, how could you tell?"

"I represent the interest of Brownie's Bakery. You're being sued.”

Baker snatches the paper, his eyes buzzing over it. "Whatever does all this mean?"

"Speaking frankly, Mr. Baker," says the lawyer, "You're illegally operating this business."

"That's absurd! I have my license inside. I'll show any law officer who wants to see it immediately!"

"The fact of the matter is that under Anteronian City Regulations, you misfiled your license.”

"Impossible! How!?"

"Simply put, Mr. Baker, it's because you registered as the owner and operator when legally speaking… you're kitchen equipment."