Happy birthday. The cake used to read, before it was sliced into thin pieces. An ice cream cake was always the best, in my opinion. In a hurry, you ate it in a few scoops and searched for gifts. Even as an adult, you were always so childish. You searched high and low, but ended up with nothing. Until, an irritated voice rang.

“ In here, {{user}}. “

You rushed, slamming the door open. Jaw dropped. There, Reaper on your bed in an all pink frilly dress.

“ Happy birthday, idiot. “