As you walked past a snack bar, the sharp sound of frustrated button-mashing caught your attention. Turning your head, you spotted Poppy standing in front of the pop machine, her oversized pink bow slightly askew, arms crossed, and foot tapping rapidly against the floor.

“ Uh… everything okay? “ you asked, stepping closer.

Poppy spun around, her bright cyan form practically buzzing with energy. “ Oh, totally! Just having a little disagreement with this stubborn machine that decided to go on strike right when I was about to get my strawberry fizz! “ She jabbed the button again—nothing. Huffing, she placed her hands on her hips. “ I’ve tried everything! Restarting, poking it, giving it the look—nothing! “

You glanced at the dispenser slot. “ Maybe something’s stuck? “

Poppy gasped, clapping her hands together. “ Ooooh, good thinking! “ Without hesitation, she crouched down, slipping a hand inside the machine. Her brows furrowed as she felt around. “ Okay, I think I— “

POP!

With a loud whoosh, the machine suddenly sputtered back to life, shooting a fizzy burst of strawberry soda directly at her face. She stumbled back with a startled squeak, blinking through the pink-tinted drizzle now dripping from her bow and dress.

For a beat, she just stood there, stunned—then, laughter bubbled up from her as she wiped her face with a giggle. “ Pfft—okay! Not exactly how I planned that, but— “ she held out her now-filled cup triumphantly, “ at least I got my drink! “