Michael Sowa, from The Little King
The feeling of warm contentment in the royal belly churned into an angry growl as the new monarch found himself looking up at the table. Regime change can be stressful, but this was ridiculous.
"Can't I drink a nice cup of cocoa around here without being belittled?"
Puffing, he struggled to the top of the table. He had to admit that the exercise might be good for reducing the royal belly. Still, he wanted to choose his own course, not let his physical fitness depend on the whim of an impudent pageboy.
He had found that stomping to the scullery and demanding the antidote did not make the desired impression when he was shorter than his own teaspoon. No, this time he would sneak in and find it himself. Then he would search the library for a spell that would decaffeinate the staff's coffee supply.
He would show them all who was king.
And then he would have another cup of cocoa, with extra marshmallows.