Simba was met with an equally, if not a little more so, look of frustration as Pumbaa had when he had his turn at poking him. Again, the neurotic meerkat instantly fixed the area fur his friend had brushed out of place and moved back a distance he hoped would keep him safe from further poking. Their words, however, were another story. They way they had begun double teaming on him like this just was not fair, especially when they both expected a meal out of him.

“Yeah, yeah!” he replied and waved his paws at them, as though to push their words away from him. “I’ll see what I can do. But don’t expect this to become a regular thing.” The meerkat then turned to Pumbaa, expecting him to follow him to the kitchen. It was there he paused, catching sight of the look in his friend’s eyes. His expression softened. “C’mon, pal.” He said warmly, gesturing for the warthog to follow. “We’ll put a ton of that whipped cream stuff you like on your waffles. Just make sure you don't eat it all before we can put it on the others.”