The Kitchen Chronicles cast in the Starbucks Misadventures
…in which Benny earns his Fluffcup and discovers the sacred magic of A Treat Well Earned™.
Part 6
©ESR 2025

Part 1: The Fluff Cup
Part 2: Espresso Awakening
Part 3: Shattered Morning
Part 4: The Apology
Part 5: The Box of Mended Hearts

It began with a box.

But it wasn’t a box that arrived this time. It was one that was dragged—no, hauled—by one determined fluffball from the hall closet.

Benny, having made amends with trinkets and ceramic humility, had taken the next logical step: redemption by ritual.

He was going to earn his Fluffcup.

⸻

The box contained his harness.

The sacred harness.

Red. Adjustable. Padded for comfort and (allegedly) dignity. It had a name tag that read “Sir Benedict Fluffenstein, Esq.”

He had fought it. Oh, he had fought it many times. But today, with heroic solemnity, Benny sat on the mat and waited.

The Flame blinked.

Oro…mid-sip of coffee…raised one eyebrow, slowly.

“…You sure?” the Flame asked gently.

Benny meowed once. Short. Firm. Fluffcup-worthy.

⸻

And so it began.

The trio piled into the car, Benny secured in his harness and perched on his personal travel blanket, which had been thoroughly anointed with catnip and cedar oil.

The Flame drove. Oro rode shotgun.

And Benny? Benny sat in the center console. Like a sphinx. Like a soldier. Like a cat about to commit a very honorable crime involving whipped cream.

⸻

They pulled up to the Starbucks drive-thru. The familiar voice crackled through the speaker:

“Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for you?”

Before the Flame could speak, Benny meowed.

Loudly.

The speaker paused.

“…Did someone bring their cat to the drive-thru again?”

The Flame smiled.

“Yes. He’s here to earn his Fluffcup today. Redemption run.”

The voice at the speaker cackled. “We got you. Pull forward.”

⸻

As the car crept forward, Benny rose with slow precision. He placed one paw on Oro’s thigh. Another paw on the dashboard. And then, eyes gleaming, he stood.

Like a little lion.

Like a general awaiting battle.

And when the window opened, and the barista leaned out with a grin and two drinks already labeled “Storm” and “Flame,” Benny tilted his head…

…then gave a perfectly timed, polite meow.

The barista gasped. “He’s so GOOD today! Oh my GOD. You trained him?”

The Flame was about to answer, but Benny stole the moment: he gently leaned forward and booped the barista’s hand with his nose.

No claws.

No sass.

Just one little redemption boop.

The barista clutched her heart like it had exploded into glitter. “I’m giving him extra whipped cream. He earned it.”

⸻

And so the Fluffcup was placed with great ceremony into Benny’s travel bowl. He settled in the Flame’s lap, tail curled neatly, and began to lap with reverence.

One lick. Pause.

Another lick. Tail twitch.

Then, with all the sacred dignity he could muster…

PFFFFFT.

He sneezed whipped cream into Oro’s cup.

⸻

Silence.

Then Oro: “This is why we don’t serve you espresso.”

The Flame: laughing too hard to respond.

Benny? Benny resumed licking. Unapologetically. Whipped cream dripping from his whiskers.

⸻

And when they got home, Benny strutted inside. Head high. Chest out.

He passed the espresso machine.

Paused.

Patted it once.

And walked on.

The espresso machine, still recovering from the last incident, likely flinched.

⸻

End.