by Paul Livingston
PSS!
Price Stern Sloan
An Imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PRICE STERN SLOAN
Published by the Penguin Group
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HAPPY FEET TWO and all related characters and elements are trademarks of and © 2011 Warner Bros. Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. Published by Price Stern Sloan, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. PSS! is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Printed in the U.S.A.
ISBN 978-0-8431-9819-5 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
On the southern side of Earth lies Antarctica, an ice- and snow-covered continent. One day, a massive iceberg snapped off the edge of the frozen landmass and plunged into the ocean. Creeeech! Thwarrrrrk! Crrrrack! Phwhooompah! But this iceberg was no ordinary floating mountain of ice. It was the Doomberg, and the Doomberg was on the move.
Meanwhile, a party was under way in Emperor Land—the home of a colony of Emperor penguins in Antarctica. Emperor penguins are known for braving dangerous conditions like blizzards and icy winds. But these Emperor penguins are also known for their happy, dancing feet and their singing.
Over a hundred gray-bellied, fluffy penguin chicks danced around Gloria, a beautiful, female Emperor penguin. She sang at the top of her lungs.
All the penguins in Emperor Land were dancing to the beat of thousands of happy feet. Among them stood Mumble, the famous tap dancing penguin who thrilled the crowd with his tippity-tip-tap feet. Even Noah the Elder, the leader of the Emperor penguins, stood high on his icy tower, moving his aging feet to the beat.
Below the tower, Ramon joined the celebration. Ramon was not a local; he was an Adelie penguin. You could tell by the patch of orange fur on his head and also by his height. Although he wasn’t a kid, he was barely taller than the young Emperor penguins around him and only half the size of his best friend, Mumble.
Ramon was determined to impress every single female in Emperor Land. But even with his endearing Spanish twang, he had a hard time getting the attention of the ladies. The female penguins around him were busy dancing to the beat of one of Emperor Land’s finest elementary teachers, Miss Viola, as she yodeled loudly.
Miss Viola’s daughter Bo (short for Boadicea) joined in, yodeling just like her mother.
“Yodelay, yodelayee,” sang Bo, much to her mother’s delight.
Nearby, big Seymour turned to his plump son Atticus and began his big daddy rap.
“Lift your head up, ’cause you’re a star! Be strong, boy, you know who you are!”
Atticus rapped in response as he charged his way through a crowd of fluffy chicks.
The Emperor nation was alive with song and dance. Everyone was having a great time. Everyone except Erik … the tiniest, fluffiest penguin in all of Emperor Land.
Watching the celebration from behind a mound of ice, Erik peeped out at his friends, Atticus and Bo. They were shaking their little bellies while Erik’s mother, Gloria, sang out to his father, Mumble. The beauty of Gloria’s singing was matched only by the razzle-dazzle of Mumble’s dancing feet. Erik’s parents were the centers of attention, the golden stars of Emperor Land.
Suddenly, the party swung in Erik’s direction. Erik huddled into the ice, trying to make himself even smaller. But there was nowhere to hide. Before he knew it, a wave of young, dancing penguins swept him into the center of the icy dance floor.
All eyes were on Erik, but he didn’t budge. He didn’t dance. He just stood still. If penguins could blush, Erik would have turned bright red.
When Mumble and Gloria spotted their little boy frozen in fear, they stopped dancing.
“Aw, my little munchkin,” Gloria said. “I’ll go talk to him.”
“Let me try,” Mumble offered, walking toward Erik.
“Hey, little guy. You okay? You’re not joining in?” asked Mumble.
Erik stared at the ice and shook his head.
“Can you say why?” coaxed Mumble.
“Why?” said Erik.
“No, no,” Mumble corrected. “What I mean is …”
“Uncle Mumble?” Boadicea interrupted. “I think he’s asking why dance?”
“Like, he needs a solid reason,” Atticus put in. “Don’t ya, Erik?”
Erik nodded.
“But there are plenty of reasons to dance!” Mumble told him.
“What’s mine, Pa?” Erik asked.
“Well, the only way to know is to try it,” offered Mumble, tapping out a move with his feet. “C’mon, son. It’s just one big ol’ foot after the other. All you’ve got to do is feel the beat! Hop onto my feet!”
Mumble scooped Erik up onto his dancing feet. All the other young penguins joined in.
“Now you try,” encouraged Mumble, putting Erik back on the ice.
Erik just stood there.
“If you can’t say it, you can sing it, and if you can’t sing it, you can dance it!” urged Mumble.
Erik took a deep breath. To Mumble’s delight, he took a few steps.
But Erik’s moves were really goofy! So goofy, in fact, that Mumble couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Before long, the whole crowd—toddlers and adult penguins—started to giggle.
Erik was painfully aware that the laughter was directed at him. He soon lost his balance, his feet and flippers flailing as he frantically attempted to remain upright.
 
; Thwack! Erik fell flat on his beak. He skidded on the ice, slid through a mushy puddle, and went down a steep incline. Swoosh! He flipped high into the air, flapping his fins in a desperate attempt to fly. But, as everyone knows, penguins can’t fly.
Splat! Erik landed headfirst in a hole full of icy water, his little legs wiggling wildly in the air. Penguins from the crowd laughed even more.
Gloria rushed to her son’s aid. As Erik lay on his back, a tiny fountain of pee squirted into the air. Again, more laughter could be heard. Mumble was mortified.
Bo and Atticus quickly came to Erik’s defense.
“It’s not funny,” Bo told the crowd.
“Can you wizz on cue and finish with a headstand? I don’t think so,” Atticus added.
Gloria helped her son onto his feet.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked, giving him a hug.
Erik stepped back.
“Oh gosh, Erik, that was, kind of, wow …,” Mumble said, searching for a compliment.
Erik looked up at his father, his face full of hurt. He turned, ran toward a small ice crevice, and jumped in. The other little penguins gathered around, trying to take a peek at Erik in his hidey-hole.
“Erik, I’m really sorry. We all get off on the wrong foot sometimes,” Mumble said, trying to coax his son out of the crevice.
But Erik was not about to be humiliated again. He stayed put.
“C’mon, champ,” Mumble continued. “It wasn’t that bad. When I was your age, I got laughed at a lot. They thought I was weird, too … I mean, different, you know … in a cool way, I was totally uncool. Really uncool.”
Mumble was trying to help. He really was. But the only thing that Mumble was doing was making things worse!
While Mumble was busy with his son, Ramon was busy with the female penguins.
“I would never have an egg with him,” said one female in disgust.
“Give me one good reason!” demanded Ramon.
“You’re too short … and gross!” she hissed. But Ramon never knew when to quit.
“Not if you close your eyes,” he said, puckering his beak. Ramon cracked one eye open and saw the female walking off with a tall, handsome Emperor penguin.
“Is that guy bothering you?” the Emperor penguin said, nodding at Ramon.
“No, he’s nobody,” she replied.
Ramon’s pucker turned to a quiver. He shuffled off slowly with a heavy, broken heart. He walked straight past Mumble and Gloria and hopped into the crevice with Erik.
“So you were mocked and misunderstood, too?” Ramon said.
Erik nodded.
“They don’t deserve us,” Ramon said.
“Ramon!” cried Mumble.
“What?” said the defeated Ramon.
“This is between Erik and me!” hinted Mumble.
Ramon popped his head out of the icy hole.
“Don’t worry. I can fix it,” he confided. “What’s a best friend for if he can’t bring a daddy and his boy together?”
Mumble was far from convinced. “Thanks, but not now …”
Ramon wasn’t listening. He turned to Erik.
“You know, little fluffito? The truth is, for wild maverick outcasts like us who can’t be tamed … this place sucks!”
“Ramon, you’re being ridiculous!” called Mumble from above.
“Not anymore!” Ramon shot back. “I’m going home to Adelie Land!”
He lifted himself out of the crevice and started walking away. Erik raised his head out of the hole and watched as Ramon headed off.
“Adelie Land! Adelie Land! Be who you want to be! A haven for heroes, just like you and me. Thrills and adventure, that’s our guarantee!” Ramon sang as he walked.
Erik liked the sound of that. His face lit up.
Mumble leaned forward into the crevice.
“Erik? Are you okay?”
Erik didn’t respond.
“Honey, I think he needs to be alone right now,” said Gloria.
“We can’t leave him all by himself!” said Mumble.
“We’ve got his back, sir!” cried little Bo as she backflipped into the hole. Hot on her heels was Atticus. He tried the same trick, but got stuck for a second before slipping in.
“So much for my daddy skills,” moaned Mumble.
Mumble walked away and saw Ramon standing at the entrance of Emperor Land.
Ramon stood as tall as an Adelie penguin could and shouted, “Adios, all you Emperor ladies! This is one fabulous penguin you’ll never laugh at again!” Then Ramon turned and marched toward a white, icy horizon stretching out to the open sea.
Somewhere in the great ocean, the massive Doomberg was still in motion. Suddenly, it lurched and tilted, breaking into pieces and sending enormous chunks of ice into the water.
Kak-ak-ak-fushooshh! A huge, rolling wave formed, moving closer and closer to … who knows where?
Some time later, Mumble, Gloria, Seymour, and Miss Viola returned to the crevice to check on their children. Seymour carried a large fish in his beak, a treat for his boy.
“Hey, Atticus!” Seymour called. “Snack time!”
There was no sound from the crevice. Miss Viola thought the kids must have fallen asleep. But when Mumble bent over and peeked in, there was no sign of Atticus, Bo, or Erik. The little penguins were gone!
Frantically, the adult penguins began to search for their children. First they looked through ice caves in the area and then on higher ground, across huge mounds of ice.
Mumble felt guilty about Erik’s disappearance.
“Mumble, c’mon. He’s an independent little guy, trying to find his own feet. You were exactly the same,” Gloria told him.
Mumble listened, but his mind was elsewhere. He stood staring at the entrance of Emperor Land, wondering if the kids could have run off. He asked Gloria, but she thought that was ridiculous. The little penguins … by themselves? Never!
“Maybe they followed Ramon,” said Mumble.
“Mumble, relax,” said Gloria. “We will find them here, and when we do, you’ll find a way to put things right. You’re a good dad.”
Mumble hoped Gloria was right, but he had doubts.
“I really ought to check it out,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” And with that, he headed out of Emperor Land.
Not far away, a huge wave caused by the Doomberg rolled on and on across the ocean. Deep below, a swarm of tiny, pink, shrimplike creatures called krill was tossed by the powerful wave. In the center of the huge swarm, two translucent krill named Bill and Will paddled frantically, just to keep steady.
“Whoa! That was a big ’un!” yelped Bill.
“I hate it when that happens,” squeaked Will.
“Hey, Will? Is that you?”
“Of course it’s me, can’t you tell?”
“Not if we all look the same.”
“I don’t look the same,” Will protested.
“Will, we are krill. We are meant to look the same.”
“Not me, Bill. There is only one of me in the whole world. I’m one in a krillion,” Will insisted. He pivoted around and swam against the tide of the swarm.
“Will, where are you going?”
“I’m leaving. I want to be free, Bill.”
“There is no such thing as free, Will!” said Bill in a panic. “Come back. Less thinking, more swarming.”
“I’m sick of swarming, Bill. We’ve been swarming all our lives.”
Bill struggled to swim against the swarm and keep up with Will.
“Sometimes, Will, it’s like you’ve got a mind of your own.”
Will zipped in and out of the oncoming krill, enjoying the thrill.
“Tell me, Bill, what do you think lies beyond the swarm?”
“More swarm, I would imagine.”
“And then what?”
“Some more swarm?”
“And then?” Will persisted.
“Will! There is nothing but swarm,” said Bill. “We
are swarm without end.”
“Everything’s got an end, Bill. It stands to reason, if I swim against the swarm, I must eventually reach the end of the world.”
As the krill were swimming, Ramon stood on an icy ledge and peered into the ocean. He was trying to talk himself into diving in to find some food—fish, or maybe a krill or two.
Ramon counted to three and then hurled himself toward the edge. But he dug in his heels at the last second. He was too scared. He tried to reason with himself.
“I can do this.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes, I can do this.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Who’s talking to me?”
“You.”
“Who are you?”
“Me.”
“Who said that?”
“I did.”
As Ramon bickered with himself, a huge wave broke over the ice and washed him farther away from the shoreline. When he lifted his head, he was surprised to see three small penguins: Atticus, Bo, and Erik, all sliding on their bellies toward him.
“We’re coming to Adelie Land!” chirped Bo with glee.
“Oh, no, you aren’t,” warned Ramon. “You’re out here without your parents. I’ll be arrested for chick-napping! Now go. Shoo! Shoo!”
Bo explained they were fugitives on the run.
“No happy feets,” chimed in Erik.
“Rebels seeking thrills and adventure,” added Bo.
“And tasty snacks!” said Atticus.
The mention of food got Ramon’s interest. He liked the idea of someone else fishing for him.
“Okay, I want a big fish, three little ones, and some of those teeny-weeny krill. Off you go!” said Ramon, pointing a flipper toward the ocean.
“But we can’t swim,” said Bo. “We’re too fluffy!”
“Fluffy don’t float,” said Erik.
The three kids looked at Ramon. After all, Ramon was the adult, so he should be the one to do the fishing!
“But it’s too far down! I’m a leapophobic,” said Ramon, shivering in fear.
Atticus was starving. So starving, in fact, that he started gnawing on his own flipper!
“Okay, okay.” Ramon stepped in before Atticus could do any damage. “Here’s what we do. We count to three. Push me on two, but don’t tell me, okay?”
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