The Angry Birds Movie 2

by Heather Nuhfer

  In the Eagle Island torture chamber, Glenn the chief engineer was encased in ice.

  “Hello? My limbs are beginning to go numb!”

  Back in the lair, Zeta smiled at the thought of Glenn. “Oh yeah. Forgot about that. Well, when he’s ready to finish my superweapon, I can finally have those warm tropical islands to myself,” Zeta plotted as she pointed to an icy wall that was covered in nefarious-looking plans and pictures of Bird and Piggy Islands. “And that’s when the good life will start.”

  “You deserve that and more!” Debbie assured her.

  Zeta agreed, “Yeah, I do. I deserve to feel hot sand squishing between my beautiful talons!”

  Zeta began to laugh an evil, diabolical laugh. She was on top of the world but didn’t know that a drone from Piggy Island was taking photos of her and her crystalline lair.

  Back on Bird Island, Red, Chuck, and Bomb made their landing outside a restaurant. A sign outside read: SPEED DATING TONIGHT! IT’S MATING SEASON!

  “Are you ready, Red? Love awaits!” Chuck asked.

  Red was appalled. “Speed dating? No. No way!”

  For a bird like Red, there was only one thing worse than being forced to socialize with other birds. And that was being forced to socialize with other birds with the added pressure of falling in love.

  Much to his displeasure, Red found himself inside the restaurant with Chuck and Bomb for the speed-dating event. The room was filled with nervous, giddy singles who were waiting to find their match.

  “All right, lovebirds,” the speed-dating hostess cooed, “you know how this works! When you hear this sound”—a small bird let out an enthusiastic CHIRP!—“it’s time to move on to the next table, where your soul mate just might be waiting!”

  Red had heard enough. “Yeah, I’m going home,” he said, starting to get up.

  “No! Absolutely not! Don’t worry, everyone’s gonna love ya!” Chuck added, “Also, I hid your house keys on some part of my body, and I’m not telling you where unless you stay.”

  CHIRP!

  Chuck and Bomb rushed off to meet their first matches, but Red held back and let out a big groan.

  Chuck sat down with his first date. He was ready to make a connection and was performing his usual trick of speaking a hundred words a minute.

  “Hi! Chuck’s my name, speed’s my game. Do you like games? I would say yes because you just entered the love lottery and guess what? You won, because here I am.”

  His date looked back in a bemused daze.

  Nearby, Bomb was having a different kind of one-sided conversation.

  “Hi,” Bomb said to his date.

  “Hi.”

  Bomb shifted in his seat uneasily. He wasn’t so good at this kind of thing.

  “I eat dirt,” he confessed. He then let out a laugh, and quite a bit of dirt came out of his mouth, too.

  Red was still avoiding the singles at all costs, so his first date had to approach him.

  “Hey, y’all! Who’s ready to par-tay?!” she squealed.

  “Oh no! Not me. I’m not here for the whole speed-dating horror show thing going on. Thanks, though.”

  “Uh-huh!” she insisted. “Shh! This mating dance is for you,” Red’s “date” purred. She began moving her body in a way that Red could only assume was dancing. Her movements were far more confusing than alluring.

  CHIRP! went the signal.

  Chuck was still talking a mile a minute, but it was time to move on to another date. He wasn’t going to stop on his search for a mate, though. He had brought his A game tonight.

  “So I’d love to hear a little bit about yourself. What’s your favorite sign? This one’s mine!” Chuck held up a sign that read: CAUTION: JAZZ HANDS.

  Bomb’s new date wasn’t having a much better time. An uncomfortable smile was plastered to her face as Bomb talked.

  “You know the flavor can vary greatly depending on the minerals in the dirt. I can tell which kind of worms have crawled through there, or what sort, like, roly-polies used to raise their families in . . .”

  CHIRP!

  Meanwhile, Red was with his newest date. She was very confused.

  “Are you mad?!” she asked.

  “No,” Red answered flatly.

  “Well, you look mad.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  “You know, maybe it’s your eyebrows?” she wondered.

  “My eyebrows are fine,” Red said. “This is just the way I look.”

  “It’s like you’ve got resting bird face.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, that’s not a thing.”

  CHIRP!

  Alone for a moment, Red leaned back in his chair. Speed dating had been as horrible as he had anticipated. Just as he was trying to work out an escape, an intriguing silver-colored bird carrying a notebook and pen happily plopped down in the seat across from Red.

  “Okay, worms, birdseed, or just garbage from a dumpster?” she quizzed.

  “What?” Red was taken completely off guard by this whirlwind of energy.

  “Favorite food, silly. Don’t think, just answer from your gut. Go!”

  “I, uh . . . toast?” Red answered, still dazed.

  The curious bird wrote something in her notebook. She had a list titled “Compatibility Test.”

  She had more questions for Red.

  “Favorite color?” she said before laughing at herself. “Stupid question, red, duh! If you could have one superpower, what would it be?”

  “To disappear. Like, ya know, right now,” Red said.

  “What do you do in your free time?” she continued, ignoring Red’s jibe.

  “You know, I mean, I don’t really have any free time. I kinda, you know, protect Bird Island from being attacked, and that’s a full-time gig, so, yeah—” Red stammered.

  “I thought I heard something about a truce.”

  Red was shaken up. This bird obviously was more clued in than she appeared. “No. A truce? No. That’s not gonna last—”

  “Well,” she said cheerfully, “you’re gonna have a lot more free time now that nobody needs you anymore, so—”

  “Okay, we are done here,” Red said as he got up and started walking away.

  “Are you afraid to talk about your feelings?” she asked.

  “Hey, you know, just because I don’t want to talk about them doesn’t mean I’m afraid.”

  She followed Red as she scribbled down notes. “Okay, so avoids personal questions, unusually angry . . . ,” she said to herself.

  “Talks to herself,” Red added.

  “Self-esteem issues,” she continued.

  “Uh, doesn’t answer her own questions. Left-handed. Probably a witch.”

  “Looks like we’re definitely incompatible.” She held up the piece of paper she had been writing on for Red to see. It read: Score: 23% INCOMPATIBLE. Next to the writing was a frowning face she had drawn.

  “And you needed a form to tell you that?” Red scoffed. “Okay, well, I hope you have better luck annoying the next guy.”

  “I don’t need luck. I have a formula.”

  “Okay. Have a nice life.”

  “Have fun being alone!”

  “Oh, I will!” Red grunted as he stormed out of the restaurant.

  “There he goes like a ship in the night: no rudder, no purpose, no crew,” the hostess said to Red on his way out. “Well, have a good night!”

  Red walked through downtown Bird Island alone. As he approached where the mural of himself usually was, he was shocked to see it had been changed. His face had been painted over with the word “TRUCE!”

  Red slumped at the sight of the mural, then trudged home. He was completely done with other birds for the day. Once inside he started popping popcorn on the stovetop, but not even warm, delicious popcorn could cheer him up. That silver bird had really hit him where it hurt. What if he really was of no use to the other birds now? He felt so sad that he sprawled himself under the stove, catching popcorn in his mouth as it popped out of th
e pan and flew toward the ground. He seasoned it by alternating between pouring butter and salt in his mouth. With a salty, greasy beak, Red looked at one of his walls. On it was a framed article about how he saved Bird Island. It was called, “Hero—Thanks to Brave Act Total Loser Now Loved.”

  Red’s moping was interrupted by a knock at the front door, but he didn’t care.

  BURP!

  Knock-knock-knock!

  Annoyed, but still too depressed to get up, Red slid himself across the floor and opened the door.

  “Hellooo . . . oh!”

  “Ah!” Red screamed as he scrambled to his feet and slammed the door. It was Leonard!

  What was the leader of the pigs doing on Bird Island? At Red’s home, no less?

  “Look, Red, I know we’ve had our differences . . . ,” Leonard began.

  “Oh, like when you tried to eat our young?!” Red slammed the door.

  “I come in peace!” Leonard insisted, his head now popping through an open window.

  Red didn’t want Leonard anywhere near his house, let alone inside it, so he did the only logical thing he could think of: Red smashed a mirror over Leonard’s head.

  “Look, I don’t want to see your face any more than you want to see mine!” Leonard yelled as the two grappled. “We’re all in danger!”

  “Yeah, from you!”

  “No, we have a truce. Didn’t you get my note? It was on a balloon.”

  Red settled down a little bit. “Oh yeah, that’s right. You wanted to talk. . . .”

  Moments later, Red had Leonard trussed up in rope like a Christmas ham, facedown on the floor. For added protection, Red stood on Leonard’s back.

  “This is not how a truce works,” Leonard informed him.

  “Just say what you gotta say, then get out,” Red said.

  “Red, we’ve discovered that there’s a third island and they are plotting to destroy us all!”

  “A third island? Give me one good reason why I should believe you.”

  “Haven’t you noticed any strange objects falling from the sky? Giant balls of ice?”

  Red paused. For a brief moment, all he could think of was when he, Chuck, and Bomb rode a tandem bicycle along the beach.

  Was there a splash? Was there a giant chunk of ice crashing into a nearby ocean? He thought there might have been, but all he could remember was the look of adoration in Chuck’s eyes as they sang together, “‘But you’ll look sweet upon the seat of my bicycle built for two!’”

  Red shrugged at Leonard. “Nope. Nothing. Haven’t seen anything.”

  “Well, I have, and I’ll show you the proof!” Leonard called out, “Squeal Team Six!”

  Squeal Team 6 was a highly trained squadron of special ops pigs that Leonard had trained for the ongoing battle between the birds and pigs. Although the two sides had a truce at this point, Squeal Team 6 was the last thing Red wanted to see on his home patch. They burst through every door, window, and potted plant in Red’s house within seconds.

  “What the— Whoa! Easy! Hey!” Red objected.

  A member of Squeal Team 6 handed Red an impressive stack of photos. As quickly as they had arrived, they were gone. Red began looking at the photos. Leonard wasn’t lying; Red saw icy vista after icy vista and a whole lot of eagles flying around.

  “That image in your hand is Eagle Island,” Leonard said. “And those are the eagles.”

  “Eagles?” Red wondered. “How did you get these?”

  “From a drone.”

  “Oh, and do you spy on us with that?”

  “Yes.”

  “So have you seen me . . . ?” Red asked.

  “Yes, and it’s disgusting,” Leonard confirmed. “But this is bigger than pranks. We need to put aside our differences and work together . . .”

  Red thought about it before answering. “. . . to save our whole world from being destroyed.” Again, he looked at his framed article on the wall, remembering when he saved Bird Island. “What we really need . . . is a hero. I’m in.”

  “Wonderful! We’ll have to get a team together.”

  “Yes, we will. But, hey, I’m in charge,” Red informed him. In fact, he was: the hero.

  “Actually, that position has been filled! Booyah!” Leonard boasted.

  “Uh, yeah, by me,” Red muttered under his breath. He could already tell that joining forces with Leonard was going to be hard work, however necessary it seemed.

  The next day, Leonard and Red were walking down Main Street together. Red was eager to introduce his team to Leonard—starting with Bomb.

  “Oh, man. You’re gonna love this guy. Not the smartest bird in the tree, but what he lacks in smarts, he makes up for in firepower.”

  The only slightly awkward thing—Bomb was in jail. Earlier in the day Bomb was getting some lunch in a restaurant. The waiter was kindly grinding some fresh pepper onto Bomb’s meal when a little bit went up Bomb’s nose, causing him to sneeze. Which caused him to explode. Even a simple child’s birthday horn could set Bomb ablaze. Terror could strike even when Bomb was at his most vulnerable. If that cop hadn’t knocked on the port-o-potty door, Bomb never would have ended up in jail, charged with disorderly explosions.

  Bomb was so bored in his jail cell. It felt like he had been bouncing the ball off the cell wall for ages.

  “We’re busting you out!” a voice shouted at Bomb.

  Surprised to see Red and Leonard, Bomb couldn’t help it; he exploded. The cell wall fell down, revealing that Bomb’s role in the birds’ and pigs’ united team was: the explosives expert.

  The three of them went to Chuck’s house.

  “This guy’s so fast he can beat time itself in a footrace,” Red told Leonard.

  Red began pressing Chuck’s doorbell and called out, “Hey, Chuck! We’re putting together a team!”

  “And I think we’re on it!” Bomb added.

  Inside the house, Chuck woke up at the sound of Red starting to push the doorbell. He went into super-speed mode! Lightning-quick, Chuck sprang out of bed, made coffee, made some toast and a PB&J, milked a cow, drank the milk, taught a high-powered spin class, and finally, curled his eyelashes.

  Just as Red removed his finger from the doorbell, he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Chuck, standing behind him in full military gear.

  “I’m in!” Chuck declared, a huge smile plastered to his face. Chuck was now part of the team as the speed demon.

  “Ha ha! Great!” Red said. The heist team was coming along nicely!

  The group then went to Mighty Eagle’s mountain to add another team member.

  “Now this guy is kind of a ding-dong, but he’s the only eagle we know,” Red explained to Leonard.

  Mighty Eagle was something of a legend around Bird Island—many a myth had been spun about his heroism. But Red knew that myths were exactly what they were: his firsthand experience of Mighty Eagle was that he wasn’t quite so brave as he would have others believe. Nor was he that mighty. They found the aging raptor relaxing in one of his Lakes of Wisdom. After explaining to him that they needed his help, Mighty Eagle was intrigued.

  “You’ve come to the right eagle. Tell me more,” he instructed grandly.

  Chuck handed Mighty Eagle a file labeled “Top Secret.” Chuck began, “It’s a really exciting mission to a place called Eagle—”

  “Eagle Island?!” Mighty Eagle interrupted him, his eyes practically bulging out his sockets.

  “Yeah! So, you’ve—” Chuck started to reply, but before he could get through the sentence, Mighty Eagle was gone. “—heard of it.”

  The group watched as Mighty Eagle ran away as fast as he could. He was terrified.

  Red laughed nervously. “That’s our, uh, fearless warrior.”

  Leonard did not look convinced.

  Unflustered, Red did his best to focus the rest of the group by taking them into Mighty Eagle’s cave and showing them a file labeled “The Mission.”

  “Okay, so we just need to figure out how this vo
lcanic superweapon works. We’re gonna need some kind of engineering wizard brainiac,” Red explained.

  “Oh! Oh! Ooh!” Chuck was so excited, he started to sing, “OooooooOOOooOOO!”

  “Chuck, you obviously have something you want to say. Or sing.”

  “I’ve got just the guy! It’s a girl,” Chuck said excitedly, “It’s my sister, Silver! She goes to the Avian Academy! Top of her class. She would be perfect.”

  And so off they went to the Avian Academy. The Avian Academy was the closest Bird Island had to an Ivy League university, where students were living the typical student life. Red, Chuck, Bomb, and Leonard walked through the campus, where they saw students playing Frisbee, studying, noodling on an acoustic guitar, and rushing to class.

  “I mean, we just thought she was weird, y’know? But before I knew it, she skipped four grades, won a Junior Engineer of the Year Award, and then got a scholarship here at the Avian Academy,” Chuck said proudly.

  “Perfect! That’s exactly what we’re looking for,” Red said.

  “You are absolutely going to love her . . . ,” Chuck said, before adding in a threatening tone, “but don’t love her too much. That’s my sister, Red.” His tone became demonic. “Or I’ll crush every bone in your body.”

  Chuck then zipped off, leaving the others to share a look that said: “That was very weird.”

  Inside the engineering lab at the Aviary Academy, Silver was giving a presentation to her fellow students about a contraption she had built. She flipped the switch on the machine, and it whirred to life.

  “With a combination of over thirty silk, wire, and cotton-based threads spun together, I now present to you: Super String!” Silver proudly declared as she held up her creation. As she looked around, expecting thunderous applause, Silver was surprised to see her classmates were either asleep or supremely bored.

  “More like Stupid String,” one of them heckled.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Mike,” Silver continued undeterred. “You’re like, ‘What’s so super about it?’ Great question!”

  Silver started to demonstrate her Super String. The string was wrapped around a giant bolder. On Silver’s command, the boulder was easily lifted by the string! It was very impressive.