Mickey, a curious young boy with a vivid imagination, drifts off to sleep. In his dreams, he begins to fall, Being comfortably striped of his clothes, he tumbled through the night sky. The stars whiz past him like sparkling fireflies, and as he descends, he lands softly into a world made entirely of cake batter and creamy milk.

Mickey looks around in awe as three rotund bakers, with flour-dusted aprons and towering chef hats, bustle about. "What's cooking?" he asks, his voice echoing against the doughy walls. The chefs, speaking in unison, respond with mirthful grins, "We're baking the morning cake!"

Mickey, filled with delight, begins to play in the giant mixing bowl. "I want to help!" he exclaims, as he rolls and leaps into the soft, pliable dough. The chefs laugh heartily, their eyes twinkling with amusement as Mickey becomes part of their nightly routine.

As the dough rises, Mickey rises with it, feeling the gentle warmth envelop him. "I'm flying!" he giggles, stretching his arms wide as if to embrace the entire kitchen. The bakers nod approvingly, continuing their work with practiced ease.

Mickey stirs, his eyes fluttering open to find himself back in his own bed. The vivid dream lingers, and he can almost taste the sweetness of the night kitchen. "What a night," he murmurs, as the comforting aroma of pancakes wafts into his room. He smiles, knowing that the magic of the night kitchen will always be a part of his dreams.

Mickey sits up, a smile lingering on his lips. "I wonder if the bakers are making more cake," he thinks, his imagination already wandering back to that magical kitchen. He knows that every night brings new dreams and adventures, and he can't wait to see where his dreams will take him next.