Sometimes I, as a Fat Kyrubey, have people over to my place; why, just the other day, my good friend Sheogorath came to my home. I prepared some wine and we sat in the quest room, he in an easy chair while I curled up in my credenza den. We sipped for a moment, and my good friend in madness asked the most curious of questions;

"Where's the bloody cheese?!"

Oh my, did my face ever turn pink! I had completely forgotten his fondness for cheese! Quickly, I skittered out to the kitchen, only to find the most shocking of woes; there was no cheese. As a Fat Kyubey, I had eaten it all the day prior! Sadly, I had to return to my dear friend and admit to my error. He, of course, was not too thrilled, but as a gentleman, he merely turned me into a sweet roll as he retired back to the Shivering Isles.

A curious sensation, that time was, to be something so sweet. I almost desired to eat myself, but alas; I had no mouth. I could not even scream if I so wished it, what with the lack of a mouth. I could only sit upon the cold, hard floor of the guest room, so far from my comfy and warm credenza with the shredded newspaper, feeling the sugary icing on my upper half slowly crack. I'm not sure how long I stayed in such a sorry state; it could have been minutes or hours; as a sweet roll, I had no real means to tell time. But even if I could, as a Fat Kyubey who lacks thumbs, I have no clocks in my home!

When I finally managed to create more coherent thoughts, I found myself no longer a sugary treat for children. However, hoping that some glazing residue remained, I groomed myself... and in return for my greed, only got a hair ball.

Ah... such is the fate of one who was once a sweet roll...