In the heart of Sparkle City, where buildings stretched up like giant Lego towers and cars zoomed through the sky with a whoosh!, lived a boy named Logan. His room smelled like fresh-baked cookies—because his robot nanny, Beep, always forgot to turn off the oven. Bzzzt! Ding! went the machines as they whirred to life every morning.

One day, a letter plopped onto Logan’s breakfast plate with a plop!. It was an invitation to the Sparkle City Storytelling Contest! "Tell a tale in front of three people," it read. Logan’s hands trembled like jelly. His knees wobbled like noodles. What if he forgot the words? What if he tripped on his own shoelaces? (Which, by the way, were untied—again.)

Beep whizzed over, its metal feet clinking like spoons in a drawer. "Fear not, tiny human!" it chirped. "Stories are like pizza—even if you drop a slice, it’s still yummy!" Logan giggled, but his stomach still felt like a washing machine on spin cycle. Swirl, swirl, swirl.

The day of the contest arrived. The stage was made of squishy foam that tickled Logan’s toes like a kitten’s whiskers. The three judges—Ms. Glimmer, Mr. Bumble, and a very sleepy robot named Zzz-7—sat in front of him. Ms. Glimmer’s perfume smelled like bubblegum, but Mr. Bumble’s mustache twitched like a caterpillar doing jumping jacks. Twitch-twitch!

Logan took a deep breath. "Once," he began, "there was a dragon who loved cupcakes more than treasure." His voice wobbled like a jellyfish in the ocean. But then—whoops!—he knocked over his water cup. Splash! The water spread like a sneaky puddle, and Zzz-7’s circuits fizzled. Pssst! Pop! The crowd gasped. Logan’s face turned as red as a tomato.

But then... something magical happened. The judges laughed! Ms. Glimmer clapped her hands. "Oh, that was the best part!" she said. Logan’s heart did a happy dance. He kept going, his words flowing like honey from a jar. The dragon’s cupcakes were as fluffy as clouds, the frosting as sweet as candy rain, and—gasp!—the dragon even shared one with a tiny, nervous knight. (Spoiler: The knight was Logan’s stuffed bear, Sir Fluffington.)

When he finished, the crowd cheered. Hooray! Clap-clap! Logan’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big. Ms. Glimmer handed him a golden star sticker that sparkled like fireworks. "You were brave," she said. "And brave stories are the best kind."

On the way home, Logan skipped through Sparkle City, his shoelaces still untied. The air smelled like rain and cotton candy, and his pockets jingled with the sound of his new sticker. Beep zoomed beside him, beeping proudly. Beep-beep! You did it!

And from that day on, whenever Logan felt his knees turn to noodles, he’d take a deep breath and remember: even the wobbliest stories can shine the brightest.