Super Happy Party Bears--Cruising for a Snoozing

by Marcie Colleen

  SUPER

  HAPPY

  PARTY

  BEARS

  CRUISING

  FOR A

  SNOOZING

  MARCIE COLLEEN

  Begin Reading

  Table of Contents

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

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  TO ERIN,

  THE ORIGINAL PARTY BEAR.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Welcome to the Grumpy Woods!

  Now make like a dust bunny and hop on out of here. And while you’re at it, take a few bags of trash to the dump.

  That’s right. It’s springtime and the Grumpy Woods is a disaster.

  You might remember that several months ago the townscritters had a rollicking Hibernation Eve celebration with the Super Happy Party Bears. Well, it’s all fun and games until someone wakes up and faces the mess.

  As the very first robin sang his “winter’s-over-CHEERio,” the townscritters popped their heads out from their homes to find mountains of soggy wrapping paper, fruitcake crumbs, and smashed gift boxes. Empty honey jars and unraveled ugly sweaters dangled throughout the newly budding tree branches. It was enough to make everyone extra cranky.

  At first, Mayor Quill simply declared Mayoral Decree number 3,456: Clean up the Woods. But while this new decree was hung on the tallest tree in the center of the Woods, it was ignored. No one looked at it. The critters pretended they didn’t see. Bernice Bunny—the Woods’s resident bookworm—kept her nose down in her book as she walked past. Even Dawn Fawn, who loved to clean, refused to sweep. Therefore, the Woods remained trashed.

  Finally, Mayor Quill held a very official meeting at City Hall, which is that upturned log over there. Everyone—from Squirrelly Sam to Sheriff Sherry Snake—attended. Except for the Super Happy Party Bears. They were not invited, because when the townscritters are extra super cranky, it’s usually due to the bears.

  At this particular meeting, it was decided that new measures were needed to clean up the Woods.

  There was a lot of “Why are you looking at me?” and “I didn’t do it!”

  Mayor Quill banged his gavel. “Spring is a time of beginnings. Therefore, I decree we all turn over a new leaf of tidiness.”

  “I am not turning over anything!” said Sam. “It was the Super Happy Party Bears’ idea to throw the party. The mess is their fault.”

  “That’s true,” murmured the crowd.

  “We should make them doOOOO the cleanup!” added Opal Owl.

  “As party punishment!” said Bernice.

  “Mayor Quill isn’t suggesting that we do the cleaning,” explained Humphrey Hedgehog, the assistant deputy to Mayor Quill. “Just that we use our superior brainpower to come up with how to clean the Woods. Then Mayor Quill will insist the bears do the cleaning.”

  Sherry Snake suggested using the trash to stop up the holes in the crumbling Grumpy Wall.

  “If it sssstinkssss, no one will even think to crossss over the wall.”

  That idea was quickly thrown out.

  Humphrey presented a prototype of his Tremendous Slurp-tastic Vacuum-izer. One flip of the switch, however, and Mayor Quill’s podium, all of Sam, and several of Opal’s feathers were swallowed up. Perhaps the Vacuum-izer was a little too powerful.

  The townscritters thought and thought. Finally, Dawn Fawn cleared her throat and stepped forward, clutching her copy of The Magic of Cleaning Up, which was usually tucked into her apron pocket next to her can of cleaner. The townscritters scoffed whenever she pulled out this book. But no one could ignore the fact that they had a big mess, and Dawn Fawn was born to clean.

  She handed the book to Mayor Quill without saying a word.

  “If it doesn’t bring you joy,” read the mayor, flipping through the pages, “it must be thrown out.”

  A murmur rippled through the crowd. “Joy? What’s joy?”

  “That’s not important,” said Mayor Quill. “Just throw everything out.”

  “That makes sense,” murmured the crowd.

  The townscritters marched to Party Patch, the Headquarters of Fun, to give the news to the Super Happy Party Bears. “Throw out everything that doesn’t bring you joy!” they told the bears.

  But, as you might have guessed, the bears found joy in everything—even cupcake wrappers and crumpled paper plates. Therefore, nothing changed. It seemed that the townscritters would have to take matters into their own hands—with rubber gloves on, of course.

  And so, each morning, everyone in the Grumpy Woods woke up at the crack of dawn, grabbed their feather dusters, and ordered up some breakfast—a tall stack of “spick-and-span-cakes” with a heaping dollop of ACHOOO!

  That is, everyone except for the Super Happy Party Bears.

  Follow the carefully placed sticks, laid out in the shape of arrows, up the flower-lined path until you see a welcome sign. That’s Party Patch, the Headquarters of Fun. Life there is very different. Life is super. Life is happy. Life is full of parties! And, of course, parties make messes.

  In fact, springtime means one thing and one thing only to the Super Happy Party Bears, and it isn’t cleaning. It means parties of the picnic variety.

  As Bubs, the voice of party wisdom, always says, “No one needs to worry about cleaning up after the party if the party never ends.”

  And so, every morning, the Super Happy Party Bears wake up and order some breakfast—a slice of ultra-crumbly crumb cake and a filled-to-the-brim bowl of jumpin’ jelly beans!

  Nothing annoys the critters of the Grumpy Woods more.

  Except when the bears have a party.

  And they are always having a party.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ever since spring-cleaning began, Only one basket per picnic was the law. Mayor Quill figured it would cut down on the amount of litter. The Super Happy Party Bears were more than happy to follow the rule. They just used a bigger basket.

  The cheerful bear-shaped door to the Party Patch was just big enough for the bears to squeeze through with their enormous picnic basket on wheels. The twelve bears gave a “Heave ho!” and the basket burst out the door and down the flower-lined path.

  “Did we remember the watermelon?” asked Jigs over the rumble of the basket.

  “Yes. What about the hammocks?” asked Mops.

  “We have the hammocks,” said Shades.

  “I hope we have our umbrellas,” said the littlest bear. “It’s going to storm.”

  “Storm? No way!” said Shades, looking over his star-shaped glasses.

  “It is,” insisted the littlest bear. “A funderstorm!”

  Everyone burst into giggles.

  “Sunny with a one hundred percent chance of a funderstorm!” cheered Jacks.

  The bears paraded alongside the basket as it bumped and rolled across the grass, zigged and zagged between trees, and passed the Grumpy Bramble.

  Once they arrived on the banks of the Grumpy River, all the bears got busy setting u
p the picnic.

  From out of the basket they pulled a heap of colorful blankets. They laid them out like a patchwork quilt. On top of the blankets, they set out all their favorite picnic foods: fruit punch, sandwiches, watermelon, potato chips, pickles, cupcakes, and everything else good for a party picnic. Little Puff carefully displayed her very special “picnic doughnuts,” which were iced to look like a checkered picnic blanket. Each one had a candy picnicking townscritter on top. The townscritters never joined the bears on their picnics, but Little Puff expressed her hope in sugar.

  The littlest bear tied a jump rope around his waist and was lowered into the basket by the others to get the last few items: lawn chairs, a barbecue grill, and band equipment—because what’s a picnic without music? Before long, the banks of the Grumpy River looked like the Party Patch—if it were shot out of a circus cannon!

  Finally, it was time to get the outdoor celebration under way. The Super Happy Party Band grabbed their instruments.

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

  But before the song started, a large wave erupted from the river, splashing the bears.

  “This funderstorm tastes like river water,” giggled the littlest bear, catching drops on his tongue.

  Jigs held one of her maracas up to her ear to inspect it. “How did we do that?”

  “We didn’t,” said Ziggy. “They did.” He pointed his guitar at a group of eight sloths floating on their backs in the Grumpy River.

  “NO! NO! NO!” yelled a frog into a megaphone. He was hopping back and forth on the shore. “I SAID GRACEFUL! THERE IS NO SPLASH IN GRACEFUL! TRY IT AGAIN!”

  The bears dropped everything and rushed down to get a closer look.

  The frog hit the PLAY button on a boom box. It played a soft and soothing tune as the sloths moved gracefully together through the water. It was like a slow version of the Super Happy Party Dance.

  The bears burst into applause when the sloths stopped.

  “TAKE FIVE,” shouted the frog to the sloths. He hopped over to the bears. He was squinty-eyed and talked from the side of his mouth. He looked the bears up and down and, noticing how wet they were, handed them towels. “APOLOGIES FOR THE SPLASH. WHEN THEY GET TIRED, THEY GET SLOPPY,” he explained, still using the megaphone, even though the bears were standing right in front of him.

  “I’M COACH RIBBIT AND THESE ARE THE AQUASLOTHS,” he continued.

  Using a megaphone, Coach Ribbit introduced the sloths. As he announced each name, the sloth popped high out of the water and spun before disappearing once more beneath the surface.

  “DIESEL, CRUZ, ZIP, ACE, DASH, O’MALLEY, WIZ, AND TAZ.”

  O’Malley did not pop high out of the water like the others. Instead, he removed his swim cap and bounced and bobbled, doing a “get all the water out of my ears” dance.

  The frog shook his head and sighed, then turned to the bears. “MIND TELLING ME WHERE WE ARE?”

  “You’re in the Grumpy Woods,” said Mops.

  “INTO THE MEGAPHONE PLEASE!” said the frog, who then turned his megaphone around and held it up to his ear.

  Mops leaned in and repeated into the megaphone, as if it were a microphone, “THE GRUMPY WOODS.”

  Coach Ribbit looked at the map on his clipboard. He turned the megaphone back to his mouth. “FINALLY. WE’VE BEEN TRAVELING FOR MILES. SOME NICE BEAVERS POINTED US IN THIS DIRECTION. THEY SAID THERE IS A BIG SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING TOURNAMENT HAPPENING HERE TOMORROW AFTERNOON.”

  “Ooh, I love swimming!” said the littlest bear.

  “IT’S SUPER HAPPY SWIMMING TIME!” the bears chanted, and they did their Super Happy Party Dance as if they were swimming in the water.

  “YOU BEARS ARE GOOD,” marveled the frog. “OF COURSE, YOU MUST BE A TEAM.”

  “Absolutely,” said Jacks.

  “We’re the Super Happy Party Bears,” cheered the bears.

  “Teamwork makes the dream work,” said Bubs.

  “LOOKS LIKE THOSE BEAVERS WEREN’T JUST TRYING TO GET RID OF US, AFTER ALL,” said the frog over his shoulder to the sloths. To the bears, he said, “WE’RE GOING TO NEED TO REST UP BEFORE WE TRAIN TOMORROW MORNING. ANY IDEA WHEN THE OTHER TEAMS ARE ARRIVING?”

  Just then, as if on cue, the townscritters appeared, marching in a straight line. They were feverish with spring-cleaning.

  Dawn was leading the pack with her own megaphone in hand, shouting directions. “Sweep to the right. Dust to the left. Spray, spray, scrub. Repeat.”

  They moved like a well-oiled machine. Or like a synchronized swim team.

  CHAPTER THREE

  To the AquaSloths and Coach Ribbit, it looked like a very determined dance team was marching through the Woods.

  When the townscritters saw the picnic mess all over the banks of the Grumpy River, they froze. The AquaSloths and Coach Ribbit thought the townscritters were holding for applause. So, they applauded, and the bears joined in.

  “Quilly!” cheered the bears.

  “What in the Windex is going on?” barked Mayor Quill.

  “We have new friends!” said the littlest bear.

  “They’re a team!” said Little Puff.

  “Just like us,” added Jacks.

  “You didn’t hear this from me,” whispered Squirrelly Sam to Mayor Quill, “but T-E-A-M stands for ‘Together Everyone Achieves Mess.’”

  “MESSY! MESSY! MESSY!” sang Dawn Fawn, dropping her megaphone and rocking back and forth.

  “Wow,” whispered Coach Ribbit, “I didn’t even think to add singing to our routine.” And then into his megaphone, “IMPRESSIVE MOVES. ALLOW ME TO—”

  “Allow you to skedaddle,” interrupted Mayor Quill. “My team and I have a lot of cleaning up to do.”

  “WHAT’S THAT YOU SAY?” said the frog.

  “MY TEAM IS GOING TO CLEAN UP.”

  “CLEAN UP AT THE COMPETITION. HA! WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT!” said the coach.

  “You have broken several mayoral decrees,” said Humphrey Hedgehog, flipping through the papers on his clipboard so he would look extra official.

  “WHAT’S THAT YOU SAY?” said the frog, turning the megaphone around to hear better.

  “Unbelievable,” harrumphed Humphrey. “YOU BROKE SEVERAL MAYORAL DECREES!”

  “YOU WANT TO TAKE TO THE SEAS?” asked Coach Ribbit. “OH, SAY NO MORE. THE RIVER IS ALL YOURS. WE’LL GET OUT OF YOUR WAY.”

  “You have precissssely thirty ssssecondssss to SSSSCRAM!” added Sherry.

  The sloths crawled out of the water as everyone watched. One by one. Slowly. Imagine the speed of a tortoise and then slow it down. A lot.

  “Thissss issss hardly sssscramming,” said Sherry.

  The frog chuckled. “GOOD LUCK GETTING SLOTHS TO SCRAM. THEY MIGHT BE GRACEFUL AND SWIFT IN THE WATER, BUT ON LAND, FORGET ABOUT IT!”

  The quills on the mayor’s back began to quiver, forecasting a quill storm. He turned the megaphone around and yelled into it. “NOISE POLLUTION IS STILL POLLUTION! STOP YELLING!” He stuffed the megaphone with garbage before handing it back to the frog.

  “I do apologize,” said the frog in a normal voice. “I’ve lost my hearing over the years because of all the yelling. But when working with sloths, yelling is essential.”

  Just then, O’Malley let out a yawn that seemed to start at the tips of his back three toes and move little by little through his hairy body. Soon the AquaSloths were all yawning. And then they started speaking very slowly.

  “Cooaach,” said Wiz. “I aam sleeeepy.”

  “Soo aam I,” said Ace.

  “Mee, toooo,” said Diesel and Cruz.

  “Muust snooooze,” added Zip, Dash, and Taz.

  O’Malley was already sound asleep.

  “What are they doing?” Humphrey panicked.

  “I told you yelling was essential. This happens whenever I don’t use the megaphone,” said Coach Ribbit. “Don’t mind us. We’ll just slumber here. Shouldn’t be longer than a few hours.”
r />   “Slumber?!” said the bears. “We LOVE slumber parties!”

  “The more the merrier. These guys love to snuggle,” said the frog. He turned to the townscritters. “Feel free to carry on with your rehearsal.”

  “FLOPSY MOPSY! FLOPSY MOPSY! I NEED MY MOP,” sang Dawn Fawn, noticing the puddles and clumps of hair left behind as the sloths crawled into a sleeping pile.

  “You cannot sleep here,” said Bernice Bunny, before she scurried to hide behind the mayor. She disliked being used as Dawn Fawn’s mop.

  “The tournament’s tomorrow,” said Coach Ribbit. “After that, we, and our hair, will be out of your hair.”

  Mayor Quill couldn’t take it anymore. He stomped his foot. He shook from head to toe. Just before the mayor exploded, Humphrey rolled into a defensive ball. The rest of the townscritters ducked behind the enormous picnic basket.

  Quills exploded everywhere. Several shot into the Grumpy River. One zoomed straight into Coach Ribbit’s megaphone and popped the garbage out in a kind of litter explosion.

  “Wow,” whispered the frog. “Maybe we shouldn’t have cut the confetti cannon from the routine.”

  Squirrelly Sam pushed his glasses up on his nose and stuck his face into Dawn’s megaphone. “YOU’D BETTER LEAVE!” The sloths stirred from their slumber, but they were moving very slowly.

  “I have an idea,” said Jacks. He dashed to Party Patch and returned with eight skateboards. “The AquaSloths can use these for quicker crawling.”

  The sloths lay on their bellies on the skateboards and pushed themselves along. It was really quite genius.