by Paul Cooper
Big Momma shook her head. ‘We ate the porridge, too, and we’re OK.’
‘Yes, but Babe was the only one who ate porridge with the honey Tammy put in it!’ cried Curly. ‘Maybe it was the honey!’
Big Momma pulled a face.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Tammy. ‘Don’t you like honey?’
Big Momma leaned forward. ‘Do you know that bees throw it up? It’s ACTUALLY bee vomit!’
Tammy started to get a feeling that they were on to something. ‘What about the rest of the gang?’
Big Momma flexed her paws. ‘My word is law to the Gruesome Grizzlies. And in this gang the rule is, no honey.’ Several of the biker bears nodded in a way that made it clear they didn’t like this rule very much.
Curly turned to Barney. ‘What about you?’ he asked the cub. ‘Do you like honey?’
‘Can’t eat honey!’ Barney shouted, even though he was less than a metre away. ‘My mum says I’m allergic to it! She says it makes me …’ He tried to remember the big word. ‘… uncontrollable.’
Curly turned to Tammy. ‘Can you remember anything about the jar?’
The mechanic nodded slowly. ‘Yes … it was from Bear Bottom Farm.’
‘That’s where Pete and Brian went!’
Tammy was already trying to call the other two on the radio, but there was no answer. ‘We have to go there FAST!’ she cried.
Big Momma got to her feet as quickly as she could, given the amount of food she had put away.
‘Listen up, Gruesome Grizzlies!’ she roared. ‘Let’s ride!’
Pete knew he’d never get past Bruno to reach the OFF switch.
He looked across the factory floor towards Brian. In a few seconds, the sleeping pig would reach the machine’s blade. Could Pete get to his friend before Brian became nothing more than a pile of thinly sliced ham?
He had to try.
Sensing that the grizzly was hot on his trotters, Pete charged towards the two gigantic vats of honey that lay between him and Brian.
The one on the left was closest to the conveyor belt, but Pete ignored it and went for the vat on the right. He swan-dived into the honey with a great sticky SPLOOSH! and began to swim. Pete was a good piggy-paddler, but this was like swimming in slow motion.
Behind him, Bruno charged towards the vats, too.
‘Come here, pig!’
He leapt into the honey, too, but he chose the other vat. As the grizzly landed – SPLUSH! – a tidal wave of honey slopped out over the sides. Bruno knew he could make it across with two strokes of his enormous arms.
But then he began to slow down. He let out a massive yawn and rolled around in the honey so that his back was resting against the side of the vat. Within a couple of seconds, Bruno was fast asleep.
‘Ha! Wrong vat, pal!’ said Pete, clambering out of the honey.
He glanced over at the conveyor belt – the top of Brian’s head was just centimetres from the chopping blade …
With honey oozing and dripping off him in great sticky pools, Pete waddled towards the belt. He hopped up and knelt over the PiPs medic.
‘Brian, wake up!’
The medic’s eyes didn’t open, but he began to murmur, ‘Not stupid! I’m not stupid!’
Pete glanced up – they had almost reached the chopper. He could see its blade glinting, hear it swishing through the air. Pete wasn’t sure how a noise could sound sharp, but this one managed it quite nicely.
‘Sorry, Bri,’ he said. He grabbed the medic’s shoulders and then rolled off the conveyor belt on to the floor. The landing didn’t hurt too much, mainly because he landed on top of Brian.
‘OW!’ groaned the medic. His eyes fluttered open. What was going on? Why was he lying on the floor? Why was Pete staring down at him? And why did the captain look so very sticky?
He felt as if he still had one trotter in the awful world of his nightmare. ‘I don’t want to be cool and I don’t want to be stupid,’ he mumbled. He blinked and forced himself to focus on the captain’s honey-covered face. ‘I’m not stupid.’
‘I know that.’ Pete smiled. ‘And I’ve got news, Bri … You’re not cool either.’
He helped Brian to his trotters.
‘So what happened to you?’ the medic asked, pointing at the honey still dripping from Pete.
‘Let’s just say, I got into a bit of a sticky situation,’ the captain replied with a grin. ‘Get it? Sticky? Like honey?’ His grin shrank. ‘Don’t you get it, Bri?’
‘No,’ said Brian, rubbing his eyes.
Pete pointed to the sleeping grizzly draped over the side of the vat. Bruno’s nose was twitching and he was growling in his sleep.
‘At least I was smart enough not to jump in the honey they’ve treated with special sleepy formula,’ Pete said. ‘The way I tricked him was sweet … You know, sweet … like honey? Tell me you get that one, Brian.’
‘I get that one,’ said Brian.
‘Really?’
Brian shook his head. ‘No, not really.’
Pete was about to have another go at explaining the joke but then he stopped. He was more a pig of action than a deep thinker, but a thought was tugging at him.
‘Something’s wrong here, Brian,’ he said uncertainly.
‘You’ve got that right,’ boomed an angry voice from the other side of the factory floor. ‘And as far as I can tell, you pigs are the cause of it.’
The PiPs turned to face a bear in an expensive suit striding angrily towards them.
Pete smiled. ‘Hi, Sweetie.’
CHAPTER 13:
Killer Instinct
The Gruesome Grizzlies roared along the empty streets of Ursalona.
Big Momma led the way, and Tammy rode beside her. She had traded in her scooter for something with a bit more oomph – Babe’s huge motorbike. Curly rode behind her, while Little Barney rode with Big Momma.
Curly had to admit, it was pretty exciting zooming along with his pink ears flapping in the wind and dozens of motorbikes roaring behind him.
‘We’re near Bear Bottom Honey Farm,’ Big Momma cried over her shoulder.
Up ahead they could see a metal gate with a padlock on it. Tammy twisted the throttle faster.
‘What are you doing?’ cried Curly.
‘It’s like that song of yours,’ yelled Tammy. ‘Can’t go round it!’
‘Can’t go under it!’ added Big Momma, speeding up, too.
‘Got to go THROUGH it!’ they cried, and they both pulled the huge motorbikes up into wheelies. The front tyres hit the gate together, blasting it clean off its hinges.
Now nothing lay between them and the honey production plant.
* * *
Sweetie was striding furiously towards Pete and Brian. With one paw he reached for his ultra-thin mobile.
‘Wait, Sweetie!’ cried Pete. ‘Before you make that call, I think you should know something.’
The businessbear ignored him and started punching in numbers.
‘It might save you a lot of money.’
Sweetie hesitated. His eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve got ten seconds to explain,’ he grunted.
‘Ten seconds?’ spluttered Brian. ‘I’m not sure that’s long enough really …’
‘Six seconds, five … four …’
Pete jumped in: ‘You think all the trucks are full of honey with Oswald’s New Formula, right? The one that just makes people drowsy? Well, think again. Those trucks are full of something much more powerful – Oswald’s secret NIGHTMARE Formula!’
‘Prove it,’ Sweetie snarled.
‘Oswald gave me some of his Nightmare Formula. It knocked me out and gave me the worst dream ever.’ Pete pointed at Brian. ‘But the same thing happened to my friend here … You had terrible dreams, too, didn’t you, Brian?’
‘Dreadful,’ said Brian, not meeting Pete’s eye.
‘The thing is, Brian wasn’t given any special Nightmare Formula in the lab. The only honey he tasted was from right here.’
In
side the vat, Bruno was growling in his sleep and frowning as he tossed his huge head from side to side.
‘And just look at him!’ continued Pete. ‘He fell asleep as soon as he tasted the honey in there.’
‘No, Mummy,’ the sleeping bear mumbled. ‘I want to be a cage fighter, I don’t want to be a ballet teacher.’
‘That sounds like a nightmare to me,’ said Pete. ‘You have to believe me – Oswald tricked you. He’s put the Nightmare Formula into the main supply of honey!’
Sweetie was thinking hard. If his New Improved Honey gave animals everywhere terrible nightmares, that would be really bad. Not bad as in wicked … bad as in bad for business! Sweetie Foods would lose a lot of money; HE would lose lots of lovely money.
He jabbed a different number on his phone. ‘Is that you, Oswald?’ he growled. ‘Get to the factory floor now. I’ve got some questions for you.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ replied Oswald’s voice on the speakerphone. ‘I haven’t got time.’
‘TIME? Time is money!’ roared Mr Sweetie. ‘MY money!’
‘There are more important things in the world than money,’ replied Oswald. ‘For example, there is sweet, sweet revenge, and that is what I intend to have.’
Sweetie’s eyes bulged. ‘You’re fired, Oswald!’ he roared. ‘Do you hear me? FIRED!’
But the line was already dead; Oswald had hung up.
Sweetie was frantically dialling a different number. ‘Security?’ he growled. ‘Find Oswald and bring him to me.’
‘Doctor Oswald has gone to the hangar to wait in your private jet,’ replied the security guard. ‘He said he was following your orders.’
‘Do NOT let him near my plane!’ screamed Sweetie into the phone. ‘Go and get him NOW!’
‘Um, I’m … not sure we can, sir,’ replied the guard nervously. ‘We’ve got a bit of a situation here, sir. A gang of bikers have broken through the outer fence and are heading this way. Here they are now, I –’
The rest of his words were drowned out by the roar of motorbike engines.
Sweetie clicked the phone off. He wasted three whole seconds staring in furious silence at the two pigs. Somehow this was scarier than all of his angry shouting. ‘I’m a self-made bear,’ he said at last, struggling to keep calm. ‘I’ve succeeded in the business world because of my killer instinct. But a killer instinct isn’t only good for business!’
‘It probably also helps in competitive sports,’ said Brian helpfully.
‘And ripping my enemies to shreds!’ howled the bear. He tore off his silk tie, and charged wildly at the two pigs.
CHAPTER 14:
Everybody do the Brian (Again)!
The giant motorbikes of the Gruesome Grizzlies – plus one Hog on a Hog – roared towards the honey factory. Before they got too close, the lead bikes pulled up near a row of beehives. Big Momma lifted Barney gently to the ground.
‘Curly, can you stay here and look after the cub?’ asked Tammy.
The trainee PiP didn’t really want to be a babysitter – he wanted to be in the action – but he knew that the action was no place for a young cub.
He watched glumly as the bikers zoomed off. Barney didn’t seem all that happy to be left out either. To cheer the young bear up, Curly said, ‘Do you want to play a game of something?’
The cub scrunched up his snout in thought. ‘We could play Poohsticks.’
Curly remembered that game from his childhood. ‘But don’t we need a stream and a couple of sticks to race?’ he asked.
‘Not the way I play,’ said Barney. ‘You find some poo, then you throw it at things and see if it sticks.’
‘Ah,’ said Curly. ‘Perhaps we’ll just wait here quietly.’
Meanwhile, the Gruesome Grizzlies had reached the loading area next to the factory. They found several bears in Sweetie Food uniforms loading crates of honey jars into the back of waiting trucks. Half the biker bears took off to stop the trucks that had already left; the rest stayed behind to make sure that none of the other trucks could leave.
The Sweetie Foods bears put their paws nervously into the air.
‘We won’t give you any trouble,’ said the foreman.
‘Really?’ Big Momma sounded disappointed. ‘Not even just a little bit?’
* * *
Over on the other side of the factory, Brian and Pete burst out of the exit, pursued by a bear in a business suit. Pete – much slower than usual in his honey-soaked flightsuit – hopped to one side and crouched behind a low wall. Meanwhile, Brian charged straight ahead towards the beehives. Not seeing the PiPs captain, Sweetie gave chase to Brian.
Pete just watched them go, knowing he was unable to catch up and help. He stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. He knew that Oswald was trying to escape in Sweetie’s private jet, but didn’t have a clue how to stop the mad little koala. He could hear the sound of motorbikes, but had no idea who the riders were or what they were doing. And then the sound of one engine grew louder, and a huge motorbike roared around the corner. It was Tammy! When she saw him, the PiPs mechanic skidded to a stop with a squeal of rubber on concrete.
She took one look at all the honey still taking its own sweet time to drip down from the captain. ‘Looks like you’ve been in a sticky situation,’ she said.
‘I’ve already done that one,’ Pete answered with dignity.
‘Oh,’ said Tammy. She revved the bike. ‘Fancy a lift then, honey?’
Brian ran through the beehives as fast as his little trotters could carry him, but it was no good: Sweetie was gaining on him. He could hear the bear’s growl getting closer and closer.
Brian realized that he couldn’t outrun Sweetie, and he certainly couldn’t beat him in a fight. What options did that leave?
Suddenly an idea buzzed into his head. He whirled around and began to do an odd little dance, moving his body in tight little circles followed by zig-zag diagonal steps.
Sweetie slowed down. ‘Doing a stupid little dance isn’t going to save you,’ he growled.
Brian continued to do his odd moves. ‘This “stupid little dance” is actually a re-creation of the dance bees do to tell the rest of their hive where nectar is,’ he said. The noise of buzzing grew louder all around them.
‘What I’m currently saying,’ continued Brian, ‘is that there is an excellent source of nectar nearby … YOU!’
Sweetie just scoffed, but then the first of the bees shot towards him.
He swatted it away with one paw. ‘Get off!’
Soon another bee was flying at him, then another. ‘I said, go AWAY!’ cried Sweetie, a note of panic in his voice now.
The bees gathered together into a low-flying black cloud and swarmed at the businessbear. Sweetie turned and fled.
‘You’re FIRED!’ he roared over his shoulder. But not appearing to understand that they were employees of Sweetie Foods, the bees flew on.
CHAPTER 15:
King Bee
In another section of the beehives, Curly just stood and wondered what exactly was going on. He had seen several of the Gruesome Grizzly bikers zooming after some trucks and he had heard what sounded like a jet engine firing up. Meanwhile, here he was, stuck babysitting a bear cub.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said for the umpteenth time. ‘It’ll all be OK.’
There was no answer from Barney.
‘Did you hear me, Barney?’
Still no answer.
Curly looked around. ‘Barney!’
The annoying little cub had wandered off! Once again he had dropped his battered old teddy bear on the ground and scarpered.
Curly grabbed it and ran among the hives to find the runaway cub before he got himself into trouble.
Meanwhile Dr Oswald had made his way to the hangar and was sitting in the cockpit of Sweetie’s private jet, engines idling and all systems go. As soon as he reached the runway, he would blast away from here.
The radio on the console crackled into life.
‘Why did you do it, Oswald?’ cried the voice of Peter Porker.
Oswald picked up the microphone. ‘How else could I have my revenge?’
‘Revenge on WHO?’
‘On everyone who is able to get a good night’s sleep!’ cried the koala, still taxiing the plane out of the hangar. ‘Can you imagine how it is for those of us who can’t sleep? Sitting wide awake while all around drift off to blissful bye-byes? Listening to them snore, all tucked up in bed in their stupid pyjamas and nightgowns? Watching them drool, while I myself am unable to get a wink of sleep?’
The plane had reached the start of the runway now. Oswald fired up the engines for take-off. The jet began to race forward.
As he picked up speed, he became aware of something else up ahead. Off to one side, there was a motorbike, and it was zooming towards the runway. It looked as if a pig was riding it, and on the back sat a strange honey-coloured creature. It appeared to be holding a radio transmitter.
Of course, this was Peter Porker! Sitting in front of him, Tammy pulled her trotter back on the throttle and gave it all she’d got – the motorbike shot forward like a two-wheeled rocket.
Tammy had spotted something next to the runway – a small construction site where Sweetie Foods had laid the foundations for a new building. There was a plank of wood leaning up against a mound of sand. It was the perfect motorbike jump ramp! Tammy gunned the motorbike. Its engine screamed. The sound of that engine mingled with the roar of the jet.
Tammy timed it perfectly, hitting the ramp just as the jet reached this part of the runway. The bike whizzed up and then soared into the air.
At first it looked like they would smack right into the nose of the plane, but the bike had enough speed and lift to carry it right over the top of it. At the highest point, Pete realized what he had to do. He rolled to one side and dropped off the motorbike seat.
He landed right on the front window of the speeding plane, where his coating of honey helped him stick with a squelch.