Super Happy Party Bears--Cruising for a Snoozing

by Marcie Colleen

  “TO PARTY PATCH!” cheered the bears.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “IT’S SUPER HAPPY SLUMBER TIME! SUPER HAPPY SLUMBER TIME!” chanted the bears as they paraded the AquaSloths on skateboards through the Woods. On wheels, the sloths were very speedy. Coach Ribbit sat on Ace’s back. Taz had drifted off to sleep again, so Big Puff tied the jump rope to the front of his skateboard and pulled the napping sloth along.

  “I HAVEN’T MET ANYONE AS INTO SLUMBERING AS YOU BEARS. ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE NOT PART SLOTH?” asked Coach Ribbit into his megaphone. He was yelling because it was important to keep the other sloths awake until they arrived at the Party Patch. The bears had only one jump rope.

  “Slumber parties are the best!” said Shades.

  “The pillow fights!” said Mops.

  “The games!” added Jigs.

  “The snacks!” said the littlest bear.

  “I liike snaa—” started Diesel. But before he could finish the sentence, he yawned and his eyelids drooped.

  “WE LOVE SNACKS!” cheered the bears, causing Diesel to open his eyes and keep crawling.

  Once everyone got to the Party Patch, Coach Ribbit excused himself. “While you are slumbering, I’ll go check out some good rehearsal spots. Looks like that other team wants to hog the river.” He hopped off.

  Ziggy cranked up his amplifier. “ARE YOU READY TO SLUMBER?”

  The bears and the sloths cheered.

  “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

  Everyone cheered again.

  Big Puff hit his drumsticks together. “ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!”

  The bears had the best slumber party they could.

  And so did the sloths.

  The party was a real snoozer.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Every night, all night, Mayor Quill had one dream and one dream only. He was sitting at a really big wooden desk polishing a very shiny nameplate that said PRESIDENT QUILL in gold. Humphrey, dressed like a court jester, brought him all his fan mail. The rest of the dream was Mayor Quill reading the adoring messages from his citizens. Often there would be blueprints for a sculpture of Mayor Quill’s face that was being added to Mount Rushmore.

  Mayor Quill loved this dream. But this morning the dream took a turn when he stood up from his presidential desk and adjusted his tutu. His tutu? Yes. His tutu.

  He began to dance as a voice shouted instructions at him.

  Mayor Quill woke from his dream-turned-ballet-nightmare and quickly checked to make sure he wasn’t wearing a tutu.

  He was relieved to find that he was wearing his official mayoral pajamas. He gave his teddy bear, Senator Fluffy, one last squeeze before getting out of bed.

  He stretched. Spring-cleaning sure was hard, and every quill on his body seemed to creak and crack from all the work the day before. What he needed was a dip in his private, members-only watering hole, of which he was the only member. He would ask Arlo Rabbit, kicker extraordinaire, to make the whirlpool exceptionally whirly today to soothe his aches and pains.

  He had just picked up his towel when he heard it again.

  “LEAP. LEAP. ROLL. SPLIT. TURN. SPIN.”

  The mayor gasped. It was the same ballet-yelling voice from his nightmare. And it was coming from his watering hole.

  “LEAP. LEAP. ROLL. SPLIT. TURN. SPIN. AGAIN!”

  Mayor Quill tiptoed toward the door, careful not to start dancing like he had done in his dream.

  He was about to put his ear to the door to listen when there was a knock on it.

  Knock, knocky, knock-knock.

  He knew that knock.

  The door opened a crack.

  “Mayor Quill, sir?” It was Humphrey.

  “What do you want?” the mayor barked. “I’m heading to the bath.”

  “I figured as much, sir,” said Humphrey through the crack in the door. “But there seems to be a little problem.”

  “As stated in Mayoral Decree number seven hundred and two point two, the mayor does not solve problems until after his morning bath,” said the mayor. He grabbed his rubber duck, Congressman Quackers, and barged past Humphrey.

  “What I mean, sir—”

  “WAK! WAK!” objected Congressman Quackers, over the mayor’s shoulder. That’s rubber duck language for “go away.”

  But just as Mayor Quill reached for the doorknob to his bath, the door swung open and out came the littlest bear. He was wearing swim goggles, floaties, and a bathing suit.

  “Good morning, Quilly!” the littlest bear said, his tiny paws splishing and sploshing as he walked away. “Making a doughnut run. Teamwork makes me hungry.”

  “LEAP. LEAP. ROLL. SPLIT. TURN. SPIN. AGAIN!”

  There in the mayor’s private, members-only watering hole, a synchronized swimming practice was going strong. Coach Ribbit, the Super Happy Party Bears, and the AquaSloths were all there. Arlo Rabbit was sitting in the corner reading a magazine. When he saw the mayor, he shrugged and went back to reading.

  While the AquaSloths practiced their routine with deep concentration, the Super Happy Party Bears played some sort of game with a beach ball. They were focused, too. But only on fun.

  “Pass to Quilly!” said Mops as he bumped the ball higher into the air and straight for the mayor. The ball landed on his prickly head with a POP! and a ffffssssshhhhhhh.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mayor Quill never got his bath. With the help of Arlo Rabbit’s large and powerful back feet, he successfully kicked every bear, sloth, and yelling frog out of his watering hole.

  But soon City Hall was swimming with complaints about too many sloths. It seemed the mayor wasn’t the only one to find himself caught up in the AquaSloths’ cross-training, napping, and practicing. They were everywhere!

  Mayor Quill called a town meeting.

  He stood behind his podium, clutching his towel with one paw and Congressman Quackers with the other. The deflated beach ball still hung loosely from his top quills. Since the mayor had no extra paw for banging his gavel to start the meeting, the rubber duck helped.

  “Wak! Wak! Wak!”

  “My library branch is ruined!” cried out Bernice.

  “Did you not hear Congressman Quackers?” asked the mayor. “This meeting is coming to order. You do not have the floor to speak.”

  But Bernice continued. “I was re-shelving some books when suddenly I was dripped on. My books are water-warped!”

  The mayor attempted once again to bring silence to the room. “Wak! Wak! Wak!”

  “Really, Bernice,” said Humphrey. “There are bigger issues here than wrinkly books. Issues like privacy.”

  “That’s not all,” Bernice continued. “The sloths were fast asleep, hanging in the tree above, drying themselves off like laundry!”

  “Order!” scolded Quill.

  “That’s enough, Bernice,” said Humphrey.

  “They did not have their swimsuits on,” explained Bernice.

  The group gasped. Dawn Fawn fainted.

  Frantic murmurs bubbled up from the gathered bunch.

  “No swimsuits?”

  “What were they wearing, then?”

  “It’s indecent.”

  “Please! Everybody! One at a time,” yelled Mayor Quill, repeatedly squeezing Congressman Quackers. “Wak! Wak! Wak!”

  “Well, you didn’t hear it from me,” said Squirrelly Sam, “but Sherry was run over by one of their skateboards.”

  Sure enough, Sheriff Sherry’s back end was bandaged. “I wrote them all sssspeeding ticketssss.”

  “It looks like they are going really slow,” explained Sam, “but then you freeze and you stare and before you know it, they smack right into you.”

  “And sssseveral of them have fallen assssleep on their wheelssss,” said Sherry. “It’ssss ssssuper dangeroussss.”

  “I’d rather have them sleep on their skateboards than in my bed!” shrieked Opal Owl from the back of the room. “I haven’t slept all day long. Not toOOOO mention, they snore!”

  �
�Clearly, we have a problem here,” said Mayor Quill. “And we need to solve this problem as we always do in the Grumpy Woods.”

  “Unwelcome them!” said Humphrey, proudly pulling a giant, dust-covered sign from a nearby closet. It was drippy and spiky and unwelcoming.

  “Haven’t we tried this before?” asked Bernice.

  Everyone grumbled about it, but no one had a better idea, so they trudged off to find those pesky sloths and get rid of them once and for all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The townscritters paraded behind Mayor Quill, who was holding the unwelcome sign. They searched every branch of every tree looking for napping or air-drying sloths. They checked Opal Owl’s house. They carefully looked both ways before crossing any path, for fear of SWNS (skateboarding while napping sloths). Just when they were ready to give up, a voice echoed through the trees.

  “INTRODUCING TEAM AQUASLOTHS! DIESEL, CRUZ, ZIP, ACE, DASH, O’MALLEY, WIZ, AND TAZ.”

  The sound of distant applause followed.

  “They are at the Grumpy River,” said Humphrey. “C’mon, let’s hurry. Single file.”

  The townscritters hopped and skittered across the grass, zigged and zagged between the trees, and passed the Grumpy Bramble. When they reached the riverbank, they stooped down to hide in the tall grasses.

  “A ssssneak attack issss besssst,” said Sherry.

  “We will wait for the perfect moment,” said Bernice.

  “We must move like a unified front,” said Humphrey. “All lined up side by side. We will look more intimidating then.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  Coach Ribbit made another announcement on his megaphone. “INTRODUCING TEAM SUPER HAPPY PARTY BEARS!”

  Again, applause followed.

  The bears lined up along the river, wearing matching swim costumes. And they did their Super Happy Party Dance.

  More applause erupted.

  “Can we unwelcome the bears once and for all, too?” asked Humphrey. “These shenanigans have been going on for way too many books now.”

  “Let’s go,” said Mayor Quill. “Remember, unified front.”

  “I BELIEVE WE DO HAVE ONE MORE TEAM TO INTRODUCE,” Coach Ribbit said into the megaphone. “BUT THEY DON’T SEEM TO BE HERE YET.”

  Just then, the townscritters walked out of the tall grasses, with arms linked and legs moving in perfect rhythm. They looked like they were about to do a kick-line. Mayor Quill stood in the middle, holding the unwelcome sign high above his head.

  “HERE THEY ARE!” announced the frog, making his eyes extra squinty to read the sign. “INTRODUCING TEAM UNWELCOME!” To himself he mumbled, “Sounds about right.”

  The townscritters lined up, as the Super Happy Party Bears had, along the riverbank.

  “We are here to unwelcome you,” said Mayor Quill.

  To the surprise of the critters, everyone applauded.

  “Guess these guys are less popular than we thought,” whispered Humphrey.

  “We are here to clean up,” added Dawn Fawn with a scowl.

  More applause.

  “ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT. LET’S SAVE IT FOR THE CONTEST, SHALL WE?” said Coach Ribbit. “NOW IF THE THREE TEAMS WILL PLEASE TAKE THEIR PLACES, WE CAN BEGIN.”

  “Wait a minute, what?” asked Mayor Quill. But Coach Ribbit did not hear him. So, Mayor Quill grabbed the megaphone. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THE CONTEST?”

  “It’s time for the swimming tournament,” explained Jacks.

  “I made costumes for you,” added Little Puff.

  “We are NOT participating in any tournament,” said Mayor Quill.

  “But we need three teams to make it official,” said the littlest bear. “The winner gets to move on to the next tournament down the river.”

  “The winner leaves?” asked Humphrey. “Follow me, Team Unwelcome. I think I have an idea.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Soon after, the three teams gathered beside the Grumpy River.

  “I feel ridiculous,” said Mayor Quill, pulling at his swimsuit. “This thing is too tight and my quills are poking through.”

  Only Sam seemed to enjoy being in costume. He kept twirling and rolling with excitement. “Gotta stay limber,” he said. “I want to win a medal.”

  “That is not part of the plan,” corrected Humphrey. “The sloths must win. Then they will go away. We are simply going to lose the tournament.”

  “But I’ve never won anything!” whined Sam. “I want a medal so badly I can taste it!”

  “Can I point out the obvious?” said Opal. “I don’t swim.”

  “No worries,” said Humphrey. “You are our aerial acrobat. Just fly overhead and dive down once in a while like you are picking up prey.”

  Sam and Opal made eye contact. “Now that’s a medal I can taste,” said Opal. She winked. Sam gulped.

  “FIRST UP IS TEAM SUPER HAPPY PARTY BEARS!” announced Coach Ribbit.

  Tunes hit PLAY on her boom box, and a surf remix of “If You’re Happy and You Know It” filled the air.

  The bears got in the water and formed a circle around Big Puff, who clapped out, “ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!” After that, it’s difficult to describe what happened. Some bears flapped their arms, wildly splashing water everywhere. Other bears posed like water fountains, spraying water into the air from their mouths. And some bears bounced up and down rowdily, causing big, giant waves. When the song stopped, the bears exited the water and bowed.

  Everyone politely applauded.

  “What in the tidal wave was that?” mumbled Mayor Quill.

  “THANK YOU, TEAM PARTY BEARS,” said Coach Ribbit. “NOT WHAT WE WOULD CALL SYNCHRONIZED, BUT VERY ABSTRACT AND CREATIVE. NEXT UP, TEAM AQUASLOTHS!”

  One by one, the AquaSloths slid into the river on their bellies, as the frog hit PLAY on the boom box. Ballet music filled the air, and the swimming sloths created elegant shapes with their long arms, bodies, and legs. Slowly and gently, they moved like the different colors in a kaleidoscope.

  The bears cheered and held up signs reading LIFE IN THE SLOTH LANE and GO AQUASLOTHS! The bears even did the wave.

  The AquaSloths swam in a circle with one leg raised straight up out of the water. Then they reversed and swam in the opposite direction with the other leg high above them. Then they disappeared into the water and reappeared on the surface in the shape of a Party Bear.

  The crowd went wild. Coach Ribbit made eye contact with Mayor Quill and winked. Mayor Quill did not like being teased.

  “WELL DONE, TEAM AQUASLOTHS,” said Coach Ribbit into the megaphone. “NOT SURE HOW TO BEAT THAT. BUT LET’S SEE WHAT TEAM UNWELCOME DOES.”

  If there is one other thing besides being teased that Mayor Quill does not like, it’s being challenged. And with Coach Ribbit’s boastful words, something in him snapped.

  “Come on, team,” he said, adjusting his swimsuit. “Game on.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Mayor Quill was actually an exceptional swimmer. His quills lay down flat as he cut through the water. He was determined to win. He gave it his all.

  But one determined teammate does not a winning team make. You see, Humphrey was still planning to lose, and so he spent the entire routine banging into other townscritters and getting water in their eyes. Opal swooped down several times and picked up Sam. His screams of “DON’T EAT ME” echoed off the trees. And the others, well, they were just plain confused as they splashed about.

  After the competition, the three teams anxiously awaited the results.

  “WhoOOOO won?” asked Opal.

  “You didn’t hear this from me,” said Sam, “but I don’t see any judges.” And he was right. In all the excitement, no one had bothered to judge the contest.

  “We’re all winners!” cheered the bears.

  “There has to be ONE winner!” insisted Mayor Quill.

  “We should vote,” said Humphrey. So they did.

  In the end, the AquaSloths won by a landslide with nineteen votes. The Super Happy
Party Bears received seven votes, and the townscritters only two—from the littlest bear and Mayor Quill. Taz didn’t vote, having fallen asleep.

  “WAY TO GO, TEAM AQUASLOTHS,” said Coach Ribbit. “OUR NEXT TOURNAMENT AWAITS.”

  “But first, we must celebrate,” cheered the bears.

  The Super Happy Party Band played some sleepy tunes perfect for napping and snuggling. The townscritters were so pleased that the sloths were going to leave that they even partied a bit themselves.

  The bears took turns being flown high above the river in Opal Owl’s talons and then doing belly flops into the water below.

  Sherry Snake made a perfect life preserver for the littlest bear to wear into the water.

  Mayor Quill demonstrated his swim moves for Coach Ribbit, as the frog took notes on his clipboard.

  It was a good time for all. But soon it was time to say good-bye and send the AquaSloths down the river to the next tournament.

  All the bears got one last sloth hug.

  Coach Ribbit shook Mayor Quill’s paw. “You know, you could have a future in synchronized swimming. Look me up if you ever need a coach.”

  “IT’S SUPER HAPPY QUILLY TIME! SUPER HAPPY QUILLY TIME!” cheered the bears, and they did their Super Happy Party Dance. And you know what?

  The townscritters danced, too.

  They were feeling just a little less grumpy. THE END.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR