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Super Happy Party Bears--Staying a Hive

Page 2

by Marcie Colleen


  Stan sniffled and nodded.

  “What do you propose we do? In your expert opinion, of course,” she asked.

  This was Stan’s big moment. He cleared his throat and pulled out some statistics and charts he had drawn up to show the hive’s growing business and future potential.

  “Well, Your Majesty, I suppose we should expand the hive, ramp up pollen collection and production, and perhaps install some conveyor belts.”

  Queen Beetrice nodded. And then she frowned.

  “I appreciate your thoughts, but I’ll tell you what I propose. We need to expand the hive, ramp up pollen collection and production, and install some conveyor belts,” the queen proclaimed.

  Stan was silent. Queen Beetrice glared at Stan. It was evident she was waiting for applause, so Stan clapped as loudly as he could.

  “Can I count on you, Achoo, to see my plan through?”

  “Most definitely, Your Majesty,” said Stan.

  “Well then, show me the honey!” she cheered, and gestured for Stan to leave the office.

  He bowed and turned to go, happy that he had kept one idea to himself so that no one else could take credit for it.

  He was going to design squeezy bottles shaped like the hive’s best customers—the Super Happy Party Bears.

  CHAPTER SIX

  City Hall was all abuzz, too. In the crankiest sort of way. It seemed that Mayor Quill, Humphrey, and Sam were not the only townscritters who had already met the bees, and everyone came to City Hall to complain.

  “My sooOOOOthing lavender eye mask is to help me sleep, not attract hooOOOOdlums!” screeched Opal Owl, who had awoken covered from beak to talon in bees.

  “Ssssticky honey dropssss are making it impossssible to patrol the Grumpy Wall,” hissed Sherry, her skin covered in grass and dirt from slithering in and out of the honey.

  “I can’t read with all this buzzing!” said Bernice Bunny.

  “Buzz, buzz, swat, swat, swat!” sang Dawn Fawn. While she was busy feather-dusting, she had stirred up bees who were collecting pollen in some dandelions. They thought they were under attack and called in the SWAT team, who took the shape of a broom. Normally, Dawn would have been thrilled to see such a large cleaning tool, as she was a fan of a clean sweep, but she wasn’t used to being the one who was swept away.

  Humphrey pouted. “They tried to sting me.”

  “Enough!” said Mayor Quill. His quills shuddered. “These bees are not only a nuisance; they are a threat to the very life we have here in the Grumpy Woods. They are dangerous and destructive. We need to let them know that they—and their honey—are not welcome here. By Mayoral Decree one-two-three-six—”

  “HONEY FOR EVERYONE!” cheered Sam, finally entering the meeting. In his paw was a golden squeezy bottle. The bottle was shaped like a cheery—or, should we say, super happy—bear.

  Mayor Quill stomped his foot. He shook from head to toe. Humphrey rolled into a defensive ball. Quills shot out everywhere. One narrowly missed Sherry, who was unable to move her sticky self fast enough to get out of the way. Another soared straight toward Sam and speared the tummy of the bear bottle. When the storm had passed, Humphrey peeked out.

  “Well done, honey,” he said. “I mean, sir.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The townscritters marched straight to the Grumpy Wall. They were wearing makeshift beekeeper masks and suits made out of woven grasses and carefully placed pinecones—no one wanted to risk being stung. Mayor Quill led the way, gripping the mangled and twisted bear bottle in his paw. The others carried protest signs.

  “Remember,” said Humphrey, “the chant is ‘Take Your Honey and Stick It!’”

  “But why can’t we eat the honey?” asked Sam.

  “Eating the honey will only encourage them to stay,” explained Humphrey. “When they realize there is no business here, they are sure to move along.”

  When they reached the wall, Mayor Quill pulled out his megaphone and boomed, “By Mayoral Decree one-two-three-six—”

  “HONEY FOR EVERYONE!” declared Stan as he popped his head out of the hive.

  “YAY!” cheered the bears. “HONEY FOR EVERYONE!”

  “That’s the best Mayoral Decree ever!” said Jacks. And the bears did their Super Happy Party Dance.

  “You can Waggle Dance?” asked Stan.

  Immediately, a squadron formed the shape of a compass.

  “It’s our Super Happy Party Dance,” explained Mops. “We do it whenever we are happy.”

  “Which is most of the time!” Little Puff giggled.

  “Do it again,” said B-1.

  “B-5, interpret the coordinates,” ordered B-1 as another bee left the formation and did his own version of the dance.

  “Forty-three degrees north, seventy-six degrees west, sir,” reported B-5.

  “Buzz on,” commanded B-1, and the entire swarm flew off on a mission.

  “What was that?” asked Humphrey.

  “THE WAGGLE DANCE. It’s how honeybees communicate where the best pollen can be found,” answered Stan.

  “But they are bears. Rainbow-colored bears,” stated Sam.

  “WE MUST BE HONEY BEARS!” cheered the bears, and they started to do the dance again but were quickly stopped.

  “I’ve had enough of this!” said Mayor Quill. “By Mayoral Decree one-two-three-six—”

  “Actually, one-two-three-seven, sir. Mayoral Decree one-two-three-six is ‘Honey for everyone,’” corrected Humphrey.

  “By Mayoral Decree number one thousand two hundred thirty-SIX, there are to be NO WAGGLE DANCING and NO HONEY and NO BEES in the Grumpy Woods!” And with that declaration, Mayor Quill stomped his foot. He shook from head to toe. He tightened his grip on the honey bottle. Humphrey rolled into a defensive ball. Honey squirted everywhere.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sure enough, the swarm returned from forty-three degrees north, seventy-six degrees west with plenty of pollen. So much so that the production of the hive was soon beyond capacity. New, smaller hives popped up everywhere along the wall.

  Other squadrons, who’d heard of Queen Beetrice’s success, flew in from nearby. Everyone wanted to be a part of the honey empire.

  As the bees produced more and more honey, the bears were having trouble keeping up. A bear can only guzzle so much honey, or so they learned. And with the recent boycott placed on honey, no one except the bears was permitted to eat it.

  Stan organized a team of door-to-door salesbees, who attempted to sell to the townscritters but were met with slamming door after slamming door.

  The bees quickly ran out of squeezy bear bottles and began filling every jar, bucket, and satchel the bears could get their paws on. Those ran out quickly, too. Soon honey dripped, pooled, and oozed over every inch of the woods.

  Mayor Quill held a meeting in the trees above City Hall. The hall itself was a tad too sticky at the moment. The townscritters came with their complaints. Some even held signs protesting the misspoken Mayoral Decree 1,236.

  “WhooOOO can sleep with all of yooOOOu roaming through my tree all day long?” screeched Opal Owl.

  “We explained that, Opal,” said Humphrey. “The only safe way to navigate the Grumpy Woods at the present time is through the treetops. We’re just lucky that most of us can climb.” And then he quickly added, “Sorry, Dawn,” to Dawn Fawn, who was grounded. For a neat freak such as Dawn, that was pure torture.

  “Icky sticky! Icky sticky! Icky sticky!” Dawn sang on repeat.

  Then Dawn caught a glimpse of Bernice in one of the lower branches and shrieked, “I NEED MY DUST BUNNY!” Before Bernice could react, Dawn hopped up and snatched the bunny in her mouth. Then she tried to use Bernice’s fuzzy tush to sop up a river of honey flowing down the tree trunk. Unfortunately, this only resulted in Bernice becoming stuck to the tree.

  “You didn’t hear this from me, but maybe we need to lift the boycott on honey,” suggested Sam. He really wanted to try eating nuts and honey together. Sam was a sucker
for salty-sweet snacks.

  “Absolutely not!” said Mayor Quill. “If we start eating the honey, what message does that send? That the bees have a home here in the woods?”

  “However,” said Humphrey, “a dozen bears can only eat so much honey. Too bad we don’t have more Super Happy Party Bears.”

  Everyone just stared at Humphrey.

  “Preposterous!” yelled Mayor Quill.

  The awkward silence continued until it was broken by Sam, who had scurried away unnoticed and was now scurrying back.

  “You are never going to believe what I just saw!” said Sam. He had a dollop of honey on his furry cheek and was licking something off his claws. It was no secret what he had been up to. He had eaten some honey! “Come quick!”

  Sam led the group. Opal flew above the tree line. Dawn, having finally pried Bernice from the tree trunk, traveled below with the bunny in her mouth. Sherry rode on Dawn’s back. Mayor Quill and Humphrey followed slowly behind Sam over branches and in between twisted limbs. And of course there was bickering.

  “Stop pushing!”

  “Don’t bounce so much!”

  “Get off my tail!”

  When they arrived at the Grumpy Wall, the townscritters were shocked at what they found. Amid all the honey-flavored chaos was a big, furry pile of Super Happy Sleeping Bears.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The townscritters never thought the Super Happy Party Bears could be so still or so quiet, but there they were. The only movement came from their rising and falling bellies. The only sound was a faint snoring that vaguely seemed to mimic “If You’re Happy and You Know It.”

  “Welcome!” a voice rang out from the wall. It was Stan. “New customers!”

  “What happened to them?” asked Mayor Quill, pointing to the snoozing bears.

  “Um, one second they were guzzling honey, and the next second they were sound asleep. Personally, I think it is just a good ol’-fashioned sugar crash. But they called it hibernation.”

  “Hibernation?!” shrieked Sam, his face now incredibly sticky with the honey he’d secretly been eating. “Is it winter? I need to store more nuts. I feel a chill. Is that a snowflake?” Sam ran in circles, panicking. Then all the sugar from the honey overwhelmed him, and he crashed right into the heap of bears.

  “Cute little fella,” said Stan, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. “Now, what can I get you fine folks? A honey chew? Toast with honey? Or our original Super Happy Party Bear honey-glazed doughnut? It’s a collaborative effort we’re quite proud of here at Beetrice’s Honey Hive.”

  “We do not want honey,” said Mayor Quill. “What we want is for you and your hive to pack up and get out of the Grumpy Woods. Your sticky stuff is not welcome here.”

  “Well said, sir.” Humphrey applauded the mayor. And then to Stan, “We don’t want you sticking around!”

  “And clean up this messss,” added Sherry.

  “I understand you have concerns,” said Stan. “Here is the number for our customer service department, where you can file a complaint.”

  “File a complaint?” said Mayor Quill. “Why can’t I just talk to you?”

  “We outsourced our customer service. Queen Beetrice figured it would help us focus on production and distribution. Please allow two to three weeks for a response,” explained Stan, and with that, he flew away.

  The townscritters were baffled. If the bees kept making honey, someone needed to eat it all up before it flooded the whole forest. There was only one thing to do.

  “I think we need to eat the honey,” said Bernice.

  “Now, wait a minute, Honey Bunny! There is an official boycott by decree of the mayor,” Humphrey reminded them.

  “But if we can’t eat the honey, who will?” asked Bernice.

  “I have a plan,” said Humphrey. “You see, bears hibernate when the temperature drops and winter arrives. They wake up only in spring, when it gets warmer.”

  “But it’s spring right now,” said Opal. “I hardly see how that is helpful information.”

  “Let’ssss raisssse the temperature,” said Sherry.

  The townscritters got to work doing just that. They covered the bears with quilts. They built a bonfire. It was really cozy. The bears still snoozed.

  “I don’t believe this,” said Mayor Quill. “I always wished the bears would have a slumber party and be quiet for once, and now that they are slumbering, all I want to do is wake them up!”

  “We need to have an un-slumber party,” suggested Humphrey.

  Everyone grumbled about it, but no one had a better idea, so they got to work. First stop: the Party Patch, for the necessary party supplies.

  The townscritters soon returned to the Grumpy Wall with party in hand.

  “This had better work,” mumbled Mayor Quill.

  Dawn grabbed Ziggy’s guitar and fronted the Super Grumpy Party Band, with Bernice on the pots-and-pans drums and Opal on xylophone. Humphrey got to work making doughnuts. Sherry had a hidden talent for creating the perfect doughnut hole. Meanwhile, Mayor Quill reluctantly took to the dance floor.

  “Was it hop to the right; slide to the left; shimmy, shake, shake; strike a pose? Or slide to the left; shake to the right; hoppy, shimmy, shake; strike a pose?” As Mayor Quill struggled to find his party rhythm, there was a stirring in the sleepy heap.

  The littlest bear lifted his head and yawned. “Quilly is dancing!” And with that, hibernation ended and the bears woke up.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “IT’S SUPER HAPPY PARTY TIME! SUPER HAPPY PARTY TIME!” cheered the bears as they woke up to join Mayor Quill on the dance floor and swiftly placed a glass of honey in his paw.

  “I know a party game we can play,” said Mayor Quill loudly over the music. “Who can eat the most honey in the next five minutes?!”

  “WE LOVE HONEY!” cheered the bears. They were playing right into Mayor Quill’s plan to clean up the Grumpy Woods.

  “On your mark, get set, GO!” said Mayor Quill.

  The bears tore through the woods. They licked the tree trunks. They slurped up the puddles. Soon there wasn’t a drop left. Everything was sparkly clean.

  “That was fun!” squealed the bears. “MORE HONEY! MORE HONEY!”

  The littlest bear knocked on the tiny hive door, but there was no answer. The hive was quiet. Not a bee in sight.

  Just then Queen Beetrice appeared, followed by a worker bee carrying suitcases. Suddenly, a whole swarm of bees surrounded her. Some bees even had a camera and a notepad.

  “Your Majesty, I’m Wax Stinger from Buzzworthy News. Care to make a statement?” said one reporter bee with a microphone.

  “This market is just too unpredictable. One minute we’re the bee’s knees. The next moment no one’s buying. We’re moving shop.”

  “Where will you go?” asked another reporter.

  “Somewhere a little less unstable,” said Queen Beetrice while glaring at the townscritters. “B-1! Let’s buzz off!” And at that command, the swarm formed the shape of a helicopter. As Queen Beetrice turned to leave, she waved one last time to her adoring crowd before the hum of the bee propellers carried her away.

  “We didn’t get to say good-bye to Stan,” said the littlest bear.

  “How sad,” said Mops.

  “I’m going to miss him,” said Jigs.

  “And our doughnut collaboration,” added Jacks.

  “Did someone say ‘doughnuts’?” asked Stan.

  “STAN!!!” cheered the bears. “We thought you left.”

  “Yes. We thought you left,” said Humphrey sternly. “You’d better hurry up and leave.”

  “I decided to stay,” said Stan. “But don’t worry. There won’t be any more mess or pesky squadrons. I set up a Getsy shop online. So we’ll just get a few deliveries every now and then. All the messy work is done elsewhere.”

  “SUPER HAPPY HONEY TIME!” the bears cheered.

  And they did their Super Happy Party Dance. Slide to the right. Hop to t
he left. Shimmy, shimmy, shake. Strike a pose.

  Stan passed out honey-glazed doughnuts with an extra squeeze of honey.

  The townscritters ate some honey, too. Mayor Quill decided to look the other way.

  They were feeling just a little less grumpy.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  In previous chapters, Marcie Colleen has been a teacher, an actress, and a nanny, but now she spends her days writing children’s books! She lives in her very own Party Patch, Headquarters of Fun, with her husband and their mischievous sock monkey in San Diego, California. Occasionally, there are even doughnuts. This is her first chapter book series. You can sign up for author updates here.

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

 

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