The sun hung high over the vibrant world of Patch Land, casting playful shadows over the rolling fabric hills. The air was filled with the soft rustling of quilted leaves as a light breeze passed through, disturbing the otherwise peaceful day. However, tranquility was never guaranteed in a land where magic and mischief danced hand in hand.
Drawcia, a notorious sorceress known for her mastery of paint-based magic, was not in her usual composed state. Today, she was fuming. With her swirling, ever-moving paint-streaked form, she brandished a large wooden broom, its bristles stiff with energy. The target of her fury? None other than Bandee, the ever-enthusiastic, slightly clumsy Waddle Dee who had unknowingly triggered her wrath.
It all started that morning when Bandee, brimming with excitement, had been experimenting with his spear skills near Drawcia’s art studio. With a miscalculated twirl, his spear had slipped from his grasp and, in a cruel twist of fate, landed directly onto one of Drawcia’s most treasured canvases—a masterpiece depicting a dreamlike kingdom of swirling colors. The moment the spear made contact, it tore through the delicate paint strokes, creating a gash in the canvas.
Drawcia, having just stepped back to admire her work, was left in stunned silence for precisely three seconds before an ear-piercing shriek erupted from her. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” she bellowed, her voice crackling like a lightning strike.
Bandee, realizing his mistake, froze. His mind screamed at him to do something—anything—but his body refused to comply. The next thing he knew, Drawcia had summoned a broom from thin air, her magic pulsing through it as if it were an extension of herself.
“YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!” she roared, raising the broom high.
Bandee didn’t need to hear another word. His survival instincts kicked in, and he turned on his heel, dashing away as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. The chase was on.
Through the patchwork fields, past cotton trees and felt-made mushrooms, Bandee ran with all his might, the rapid thuds of his tiny feet barely making a sound against the soft ground. Drawcia was right behind him, her magical aura crackling with raw energy. She swung the broom wildly, sending gusts of wind strong enough to scatter dandelion-like tufts into the air.
“Get back here, you infuriating speck of chaos!” she screeched, hurling a ball of paint magic at him. The projectile splattered against a nearby fence, turning the wooden planks into a surreal swirl of purple and blue.
Bandee yelped, ducking under a low-hanging vine as he zigzagged through the landscape. He had been in tight spots before—King Dedede’s wild antics had prepared him for quite a few precarious situations—but this was different. Drawcia was truly out for revenge, and the idea of being smacked with a magically charged broom was not an experience he wanted to have.
He scurried through a winding path leading to the rolling yarn hills, hoping the terrain would slow his pursuer down. Unfortunately for him, Drawcia simply floated over the obstacles, her anger keeping her movements unnaturally swift.
“I swear, if I catch you, you’ll be turned into a paint stain on my next canvas!” she shrieked, waving her broom threateningly.
Bandee, still breathless, glanced back and squeaked in panic. “It was an accident! I swear, I didn’t mean to—”
“Accident?! That painting took me months to perfect!” Drawcia shot back, sending another swirl of magic his way. Bandee barely managed to dodge as the ground behind him transformed into a bright, abstract mess.
Desperate for an escape, Bandee spotted a cluster of Yarn Kirbys nearby, stacking woolly blocks for some unknown reason. An idea sparked in his mind. He made a sharp turn and leapt onto the pile of blocks, scrambling upward like his life depended on it—which, in this case, it probably did.
Drawcia growled as she followed, sweeping her broom in a massive arc. “You think you can escape?!”
Bandee, reaching the top of the yarn structure, made a split-second decision. He jumped.
With a panicked cry, he launched himself forward, flailing his arms wildly. At that moment, the wind carried him just enough to land—rather ungracefully—into a nearby haystack, causing a comical puff of fibers to explode into the air.
Drawcia stopped short, her broom raised high, eyes scanning the scene with suspicion. She hovered above the mess, glaring down.
A moment of silence.
Then, ever so subtly, the haystack twitched.
Drawcia’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, please. As if I wouldn’t notice.”
With an exaggerated sigh, she waved her hand, and the haystack lifted into the air, revealing a trembling Bandee curled into a tiny ball.
Bandee blinked up at her. “U-Uh… hi?”
Drawcia’s broom descended like a lightning bolt, stopping just inches from his forehead. “Do you have any idea how much you owe me for that painting?!”
“I-I could help fix it!” Bandee stammered, his eyes darting around for an escape route. “I’m great at holding paintbrushes! And spears! But mostly paintbrushes right now!”
Drawcia groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You… You’re hopeless.”
Bandee took that as a minor victory. “So… we’re good?”
Drawcia exhaled sharply, dropping the haystack. “You’re going to help me fix that painting. And if I ever see a spear near my artwork again, I will personally turn you into a permanent part of my next masterpiece.”
Bandee gulped and gave an enthusiastic nod. “Deal! Absolutely! No more spears near your art! Ever! I promise!”
Drawcia glared at him for another moment before sighing. She turned on her heel, floating back toward her ruined masterpiece, broom resting against her shoulder. “Come on, you disaster of a Waddle Dee. We’ve got work to do.”
Bandee scrambled after her, relieved beyond words that the chase had finally ended. As they walked, he hesitated before offering a tiny smile. “You know, I do like your paintings.”
Drawcia side-eyed him, her lips twitching as if she wanted to smile but refused to let herself. “You better.”
And just like that, peace was restored—at least until Bandee’s next accident.