The morning sun stretched lazily across the quiet town of Quahog. Birds chirped half-heartedly, a dog barked somewhere in the distance, and inside the Griffin household, chaos brewed as always.
Lois Griffin stood in the kitchen, her red hair tied neatly, her face the picture of a loving but exhausted mother. The smell of coffee and burnt toast filled the air. She had a mission today: Stewie's first birthday party.
"Peter, did you remember to order the cake?" she called, flipping pancakes while trying to spoon-feed Stewie at the same time.
Peter Griffin entered, still in his white shirt and green pants, scratching his belly like a bear just waking from hibernation. His voice carried that confident, clueless cheerfulness only Peter could master.
"Cake? Oh yeah, Lois, I got it all under control. The guy said it'll be ready for pick-up today. No problem!"
Lois looked suspicious. Peter saying "no problem" usually meant there would soon be a *big* problem. But she didn't press further. Instead, she handed Meg a small list.
"Meg, sweetie, can you go pick up a few things from the store for the party? Balloons, streamers, candles."
Meg took the list eagerly. "Sure, Mom!"
"Also," Lois added, "don't forget to practice your driving later. Your test is tomorrow."
Meg's face brightened. "Dad's teaching me. He said I'm a natural!"
Lois paused. "Peter… you didn't teach her any of your *weird* driving habits, did you?"
Peter laughed. "Weird? Lois, I taught her everything she needs to know about the open road! Confidence, dominance, and friendly competition!"
"Competition?" Lois frowned.
Peter nodded proudly. "Yeah, you see, if another car pulls up next to you at a red light, that means they're challenging you. You rev your engine twice, wait for the green light, and then floor it. Classic street etiquette."
Lois froze, spatula mid-air. "Peter… that's drag racing!"
Peter chuckled. "Not if you win."
Lois sighed. Somewhere deep inside, she wondered how she had ended up married to this man.
---
Meanwhile, at the table, baby Stewie sat in his highchair, glaring at the spoon of mashed carrots being waved near his mouth. His eyes, sharp and calculating, narrowed like a scheming villain's.
"Curse these simple-minded imbeciles," he muttered in a posh, sinister voice that only he could hear. "Day after day, they feed me mush as though I were a common rodent. But soon… soon my plans will ripen. My first birthday approaches… and with it, the end of their tyranny."
Brian, the family's talking dog, sat beside him, lazily reading the morning paper. "You plotting world domination again, kid?"
Stewie looked up sharply. "Silence, canine! Your ignorance is intolerable. Now fetch me my weaponry."
Brian smirked. "Sure, right after my coffee."
Stewie glared. "Typical."
---
Later that day, Meg stood nervously behind the wheel of the family car. Peter sat beside her, chewing on a bag of chips, looking far too relaxed.
"Alright, Meg," he said between crunches. "Remember what I told you. Rev twice. Then go."
Meg swallowed hard. The car next to them was a sleek black muscle car, its driver wearing sunglasses and a smirk.
"Dad, I don't think this is a good idea," she whispered.
"Nonsense! You got this. Just rev it twice to show respect."
Meg did as she was told. The engine made two weak growls. The driver in the next car raised an eyebrow, then revved back with a thunderous roar.
"See? He likes you!" Peter said proudly.
The light turned green.
"GO, MEG, GO!" Peter shouted.
Meg slammed the pedal, and the car lurched forward like a startled mule. Tires screeched. Her heart thundered. For the first time, she felt like a rebel—until she saw flashing blue lights behind her.
"Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!" she cried.
Peter winced. "Okay, new plan. Tell them I was driving."
Moments later, the police officer leaned into the window, expression stone cold.
"License and registration."
Meg's voice trembled. "I… I don't have my license yet."
The officer frowned. "And why were you racing?"
Peter leaned forward, trying to charm his way out. "Well, officer, she wasn't racing. She was… doing a quick performance test. Safety inspection, really. For science."
The officer's expression didn't change. "Step out of the vehicle."
That day, Meg's dreams of getting her driver's license died a swift, humiliating death. When she got home, she locked herself in her room, while Peter tried to console her with ice cream.
"Hey, at least you didn't crash. That's progress!" he said, grinning. Meg just groaned and buried her face in a pillow.
---
While that disaster unfolded, Lois was busy with party preparations. She had everything planned down to the last detail: cake, decorations, games, and a guest list filled with neighborhood parents and babies.
But when she called the bakery to confirm the order, the woman on the phone said, "Sorry, ma'am, your husband canceled the order this morning."
Lois froze. "He what?"
The woman repeated it clearly. "Canceled. Said he wanted the money for… uh… something else."
Lois' eye twitched. "Something else?" she repeated through gritted teeth.
"Yes, ma'am. A novelty pie-eating contest at the Clam."
Lois hung up and stormed into the living room. Peter was there, watching TV, crumbs all over his shirt.
"Peter Griffin!" she shouted. "Did you cancel Stewie's birthday cake?!"
Peter blinked. "Oh, uh… maybe? I thought we could just pick one up at the grocery store. Cheaper, and they have free samples!"
Lois took a deep breath, visibly restraining herself. "Peter, this is our baby's *first birthday*. You can't just replace a cake with free samples!"
Peter scratched his head. "Well, when you say it like that…"
Lois glared. "Go. Now. And don't come back without a cake!"
Peter sighed and trudged out, muttering something about "women and their fancy cake rules."
---
Meanwhile, baby Stewie sat in his playpen, quietly constructing what looked like a futuristic device out of toy parts, batteries, and spare wires.
"Let them have their cake," he muttered. "For soon, they will all kneel before me. My mind-control ray shall turn these buffoons into my slaves. And when the clock strikes one, I—"
Just then, Lois walked by, cooing. "Oh, who's my little birthday boy? Mommy's big man!"
Stewie froze. His device sparked and fizzled out.
"Blast it! Foiled again by maternal affection!"
---
Peter, on his quest for redemption, went from store to store, but every bakery was sold out. Time was running out. Then, he spotted a small, run-down shop with a sign that read "Heaven's Gate Party Supplies."
Inside, he met a smiling woman in white robes. "Welcome, brother," she said softly. "Are you ready for the Ascension?"
Peter blinked. "Ascension? Uh, sure, as long as you got cake."
The woman smiled wider. "Oh, we have all you need for the final journey."
Peter nodded dumbly. "Great, I'll take chocolate."
He left with a plain white cake, completely unaware that the woman was part of a creepy doomsday cult.
---
Later that evening, the Griffins' house filled with laughter and party hats. Lois lit candles, Meg sulked in a corner, and Brian hovered near the snack table.
Peter carried in the cake proudly. "See, Lois? Problem solved."
Lois looked relieved. "Thank you, Peter. That actually looks nice."
Stewie sat in his highchair, scowling at the candles. "One year old. They think this is a milestone. Fools. Each moment of my existence brings me closer to dominion."
Everyone gathered around as Lois said, "Okay, Stewie, blow out the candles!"
Stewie narrowed his eyes, leaned forward, and blew… but the flames didn't go out. Instead, his face got covered in frosting as Peter clapped too hard and the cake tipped forward.
"Happy birthday, little guy!" Peter laughed.
Stewie wiped the frosting from his face. "Oh yes… quite amusing. Enjoy your laughter while you can, imbeciles. For the day will come when I'll make you all pay."
Lois smiled warmly. "Aw, look at him. He's already thinking about his future."
Brian smirked. "Yeah, world domination."
Stewie just grinned darkly.
---
That night, as the house grew quiet and everyone slept, Stewie sat in his crib, staring out the window.
"Mark my words," he whispered. "The day will come when this family shall bow before me… starting with that fat man who canceled my cake."
He clutched his broken mind-control device and chuckled softly to himself.
The moonlight flickered through the curtains, and the baby's laughter echoed faintly through the house.