The Berenstain Bears Chapter Book: Go Hollywood

by Stan

  Contents

  1. The Three-Camera Stranger

  2. Cut Me In

  3. You Ought to Be in Pictures

  4. Hotline to Hollywood

  5. Lights . . . Camera . . . Action!

  6. You’re the Greatest!

  7. Not So Easy Rider

  8. Surrender? Never!

  9. Stood Up

  10. Acting Lesson

  11. Ready When You Are, C.B.!

  12. Lost with the Wind

  13. Back on the Breeze

  Excerpt from The Berenstain Bears at Camp Crush

  Chapter 1 - Bullhorn Baits His Hook

  About the Authors

  Back Ad

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  The Three-Camera Stranger

  By Bear Country standards, Big Bear City was a metropolis. It had four motels and two big hotels—and that was just within the city limits. It had lots of office buildings, dozens of eating places, three newspapers, a big-time TV station, and a large population. It was the sort of place where strangers were hardly noticed.

  But Beartown was a very different sort of place. It had only one motel and a single office building. There were a number of businesses (at least half of which were owned by multimillionaire Squire Grizzly), but only one newspaper and a small population, even when you counted the folks who lived outside the town limits. Beartown was the sort of place where a stranger stuck out like a thumb with a big bandage on it.

  And that’s exactly how the stranger who checked into the Grizzly Arms Motel one day stuck out. He would have aroused curiosity even if he hadn’t taken three cameras wherever he went—a big one that hung from a shoulder strap and two smaller ones that hung from his neck. He would have been noticed even if he hadn’t gone around taking pictures of just about everything in sight. There didn’t seem to be much of a pattern to what he snapped. He snapped everything from the statue of General Bearegard in the town square to the historic courthouse where Judge Gavel presided.

  Judge Gavel was too busy studying court papers to look out his office window long enough to notice the stranger. But he found out about him as soon as Burt McBurt, the court reporter, knocked on his office door and peeked in.

  “Sorry to bother you, Your Honor,” said Burt. “It’s important.”

  “Well, don’t just stand there with your head pokin’ through the door,” said Judge Gavel.

  Burt stepped into the room and gestured at the window. “There’s a stranger out there takin’ pictures of the courthouse.”

  “And?”

  “Well, what d’ya suppose he’s up to, Judge?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” said Judge Gavel. “If you’re so curious, why don’t you ask him?”

  “I tried that,” said Burt. “But when I went up to him on the courthouse steps, he turned around and took a picture of me! Can he do that, Judge? Isn’t that an invasion of privacy or something?”

  Judge Gavel sighed. “You have no right to privacy on the courthouse steps, Burt,” he said. “It’s a public place.”

  “There oughta be a law,” Burt complained.

  “Well, there isn’t,” said the judge. “Now will you please get out of here so I can take my nap?”

  Burt left, and Judge Gavel went to the window to pull down the shade. Sure enough, there was the stranger out in the town square. He was taking a picture of Old Shag, the historic shagbark hickory in whose shade Generals Stonewall Grizzly and Ulysses S. Bear signed the treaty to end the Great Bear War.

  “Hmm,” said the judge to himself. “Probably a tourist.” Then he stretched out on the office couch and within seconds was sound asleep.

  Quite a few Beartown folks who noticed the stranger had the same thought as Judge Gavel about what the fellow was doing in Beartown. But there were other ideas, too. Earlier that day, right after the stranger had checked into the Grizzly Arms Motel, the desk clerk had turned to the maid cleaning the office and said, “He’s obviously a sites guy.”

  “What’s a sites guy?” asked the maid.

  “A guy sent somewhere by a company to find a good place to build a factory or warehouse.”

  Later that day, too, more guesses were made when the stranger ventured beyond the city limits. At one point, Sister Bear saw him and said to Papa, “There’s a guy outside taking pictures of our house.”

  Papa went to the window. “Hmm,” he said. “Wonder what he’s up to.”

  “Oh, my!” said Mama, joining Papa. “I’ll bet he’s from Tree House Beautiful and he’s going to put our house in the magazine!”

  “That’d be cool,” said Brother.

  “I’d better go find out,” said Papa. “Oh, sir!” he called from the front steps. “Are you from Tree House Beautiful?”

  The stranger looked up and said, “What? Oh, yes, indeed—your tree house certainly is beautiful.” Then he did what he usually did when someone asked him what he was up to. He took Papa’s picture. And hopped into his rental car and drove off.

  Chapter 2

  Cut Me In

  The next morning, Ralph Ripoff was having breakfast at the Red Berry when he saw the stranger out on the sidewalk, taking a snapshot of the restaurant. Ralph was Beartown’s resident small-time swindler and conbear, and he was very protective of his turf. Whenever he saw a stranger who appeared to be checking Beartown out, he automatically assumed it was another crook up to some sort of mischief. His first instinct was usually to chase the intruder away. But in this case he had a different reaction.

  Hmm, thought Ralph. That young fellow is willing to risk being noticed walking around and snapping pictures in broad daylight. He must be playing for pretty high stakes . . .

  Just then, the stranger turned to snap a picture of Great Grizzly National Bank across the street.

  Aha! thought Ralph. So that’s his game! Casing the bank. Maybe I can get in on this . . .

  Ralph threw some bills down on the table and hurried outside. “Hi there, stranger!” he said. “Ripoff’s the name, swindling’s the game. And I know exactly what you’re up to.”

  The stranger, who had been about to take Ralph’s picture, lowered his camera and frowned. “You do?” he said.

  “Sure,” said Ralph. “It’s as plain as the nose on your face. And if you want me to keep quiet about it, you’re gonna have to cut me in.”

  “Cut you in?” said the stranger. “Oh, I see.” He sighed. “Well, I would like to keep it a secret for another day or two—”

  “Ah, so the job’s gonna be soon, is it?” said Ralph.

  “Huh?” said the stranger.

  “Let’s walk while we talk,” said Ralph. “In our business, it helps to keep moving.”

  As they strolled off down the street, Ralph continued, “I’ll tell you what, my friend. For five hundred dollars, I’ll keep quiet. But for a thousand, I’ll lend you a helping hand. What’ll it be?”

  “Actually,” said the stranger, “I could use some help identifying the Beartown folks whose pictures I’ve taken.”

  “My goodness!” said Ralph. “You boys sure know how to prepare for a job! Identifying potential witnesses before the crime so you can threaten them later—very impressive!”

  “Witnesses?” said the stranger. “Crime? What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t have to be coy with me, young fella,” Ralph chuckled. “Like I said: I already know you’re planning to rob Great Grizzly National Bank.”

  The stranger stopped in his tracks. He looked shocked. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

  “Stop that!” snapped Ralph.
“You’re attracting attention!”

  “But you’ve got me all wrong, Mr. Ripoff,” said the stranger. He offered his hand. “Name’s Jake. I work for Bearamount Pictures in Hollywood. I’ve been sent out here by the great movie director Cecil Bear DeMille to scout a location for his upcoming epic movie of the best-selling novel Lost with the Wind.”

  Ralph’s eyes grew wide. “Bearamount Pictures?” he said. “Cecil Bear DeMille? Lost with the Wind? Are you putting me on, son?”

  “No,” said Jake. “After all, Lost with the Wind is about the Great Bear War. And in those days, Beartown was right in the middle of the action. The Battle of Beartown was the final battle of the war, the one that led the Grizzly clan to surrender to the Bear clan. Where better to shoot the movie than Beartown?”

  “Agreed,” said Ralph. “But why take pictures of modern buildings like the bank and the restaurant? You can’t use those in a historical movie.”

  “Sure we can,” said Jake. “Our set designer needs pictures of them so he’ll know how to fix them up to look old-fashioned.”

  “But why do you need pictures of Beartown folks?” asked Ralph.

  “For casting purposes,” said Jake. He glanced quickly around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “You see, C.B.—that’s Mr. DeMille—likes to cast locals in his movies whenever he’s on location. In Lost with the Wind, only the main characters will be played by real actors. All the other roles will be filled by ordinary Beartown citizens.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Ralph. “That’s why you want to keep it a secret for a while.”

  “At least until we’re all set up for auditions,” said Jake. “If word got out too soon, I’d be mobbed by Beartown folks who wanted to get their faces onto the silver screen. Now, let’s get these pictures identified.”

  “I’ve got the perfect place for working unobserved,” said Ralph. “Ralph’s Place, my secluded houseboat on the lovely banks of Old Grizzly River.”

  “Lead the way,” said Jake.

  And off they went.

  Chapter 3

  You Ought to Be in Pictures

  A couple of days later, Bearamount Pictures informed the Beartown media of its plan to shoot Lost with the Wind in and around Beartown. Instantly, TV and radio were full of the news. BEARTOWN GOES HOLLYWOOD!! screamed the Beartown Gazette’s lead headline. AUDITIONS FOR LOST WITH THE WIND START TODAY!

  With Bear Country School closed for the summer, Bearamount Pictures and town officials had agreed to hold auditions in the school auditorium. Some Beartown folks—the ones who looked right for particular roles—were actually invited to audition. Tops on this list was Ralph Ripoff, who seemed perfect for the role of Sam Sleaze, a double spy who worked for both sides in the war between the blue-uniformed Bear clan and the gray-uniformed Grizzly clan. With his old-fashioned straw hat, spats, and walking stick, Ralph wouldn’t even need a costume! Next on the list was Squire Grizzly, Beartown’s multimillionaire businessbear. Ralph had told Jake that the squire was a direct descendant of General Stonewall Grizzly, who led the Gray troops into the fateful Battle of Beartown. Cecil Bear DeMille decided it would be a great gimmick to have the small part of Stonewall Grizzly played by a direct descendant of the great general. Ditto with Papa Q. Bear, a direct descendant of General Ulysses S. Bear, who defeated Stonewall Grizzly at the Battle of Beartown.

  Ralph, Papa, and the squire all read well in their auditions, so they got the parts. That left Mayor Horace J. Honeypot the part of mayor of Beartown during the Great Bear War. The only trouble was his reading. To say it wasn’t very good would be an understatement. And to say it was a disaster wouldn’t be an exaggeration. The mayor was famous for mixing up his words, and when he was asked to read the line “We must put a stop to this terrible war!” he read it as “We must soot a pop to this wurrible tore!” They gave him a second chance, but “On the graves of my ancestors, I vow never to give up!” came out as “On the ants of my gravecestors, I now leave her to give up!” Finally, the casting crew decided to give the mayor the part anyway but dub his lines with a real actor’s voice.

  After the invitees, the general public auditioned. The crush of folks in the schoolyard lessened as a few bears at a time were led into the auditorium and put through their paces. Of course, folks knew that the parts they’d be cast in were small—mostly nonspeaking parts that weren’t much to speak of, so to speak. The famous actor Clark Grizzle had been cast as the male lead, Rett Cutler, and the famous actress Vivian Brie had been cast opposite him as Scarlett O’Beara. All the other major roles as well had been filled by professional actors and actresses. Except, that is, for the role of Scarlett’s younger sister, Rose. Bearamount was still haggling with the well-known cub actress Shirley Bruin over the terms of a contract for that role.

  Casting for the small parts went at a rapid pace. Biff Bruin, owner of Biff Bruin’s Pharmacy, was cast as the proprietor of the Beartown General Store, and Chief Bruno, Beartown’s police chief, was cast as—you guessed it—Beartown’s police chief. Teacher Bob filled the role of the town doctor, and Dr. Gert Grizzly, after much grumbling, accepted the role of his nurse. Other adult roles were filled by Bear Country School staff: Teacher Jane, Principal Honeycomb, Mr. Grizzmeyer, and Miss Glitch.

  Then things hit a snag. The casting crew wanted to put Farmer Ben in the role of General Stonewall Grizzly’s personal attendant and Two-Ton Grizzly in the role of General Ulysses S. Bear’s personal attendant. But Farmer Ben refused. He said the Bens were members of the Bear clan and it wouldn’t be right for a member of his clan to play the personal attendant of the enemy’s general.

  “Likewise,” said Two-Ton Grizzly. “I’m a Grizzly—always have been and always will be. And I ain’t gonna play no attendant to that Ulysses S. Bear!”

  The astonished casting director looked from one ornery bear to the other and scratched his head. “But, fellas,” he said, “the Blue and Gray aren’t enemies anymore. They made war over a hundred years ago. And then they made peace.”

  “Don’t matter,” insisted Farmer Ben. “That’s just the way I feel.”

  Two-Ton didn’t even have to say anything. From the way he folded his powerful arms across his massive chest and frowned at the casting director, it was pretty clear he felt the same way Farmer Ben did.

  “Well, why don’t we just switch your roles?” suggested the casting director. “Farmer Ben, you play General Bear’s attendant. And, Two-Ton, you play General Grizzly’s. How’s that?”

  Farmer Ben’s face broke into a broad smile. “Why, I’d be honored,” he said.

  Two-Ton grinned from ear to ear. “It’d be a privilege,” he said.

  And that settled that. At least, for the time being.

  Competition for cub roles was intense. That’s because there were only two of them: a drummer boy for the Blue army, and a girlfriend of Rose O’Beara’s. Brother Bear had started drum lessons earlier in the summer, and he hoped his drumming skill would land him the first role. His best friend, Bonnie Brown, was the odds-on favorite to get the role of Rose’s girlfriend, since she had done some professional acting in TV commercials.

  For his audition, Brother was ordered to march across the stage while pretending to play a snare drum. It was a cinch. He was told right then and there that he had the part, and he strutted out to the schoolyard to bask in the admiration of his friends and wait for Bonnie to finish her audition. As he waited, he thought fondly of what lay ahead. Wouldn’t it be great to be on a big Hollywood movie set with Bonnie? Neither of them would have much to do, so they could pass the time just hangin’ out as the whole glamorous Hollywood thing unfolded right before their eyes!

  “I’ll bet Bonnie gets that part,” said Babs Bruno.

  “Of course she’ll get it,” said Brother. “Who else?”

  “I might remind you,” said Ferdy Factual, “that Queenie McBear is also auditioning for that role.”

  “Oh, please!” scoffed Brother. “Queenie? I’ll admit she’s been oka
y in school plays, but against Bonnie she doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “Shh!” said Sister Bear. “Here comes Bonnie.”

  Bonnie strolled up to the group. She was smiling.

  “So,” said Brother, “who got the role of Rose O’Beara’s friend? As if I didn’t know.”

  “Queenie,” said Bonnie matter-of-factly. “At least, I assume she’ll get it. Because I didn’t.”

  The group let out a gasp. “You didn’t?” said Brother. “Are you pulling my leg?”

  “I’m not even touching you,” said Bonnie, still smiling.

  “But if you didn’t get the part,” said Brother, “why are you smiling?”

  “Because I’ve got good news about another part,” said Bonnie. “Bearamount Pictures has withdrawn its offer to Shirley Bruin. She won’t be playing the part of Rose O’Beara after all.”

  “That hardly sounds like good news,” said Ferdy. “It sounds more like a major setback. It could hold up shooting for a long time.”

  “Not so,” said Bonnie. “Because they’ve already found someone else to play Rose O’Beara.”

  “They have?” said Brother. “Who?”

  Bonnie’s smile broadened into a dreamy grin. “You’re lookin’ at her,” she said.

  Chapter 4

  Hotline to Hollywood

  It took a few seconds for what Bonnie had just told her friends to sink in. Then there were cries of “Wow!”, “Cool!”, and “Awesome!”

  “That’s fantastic!” said Brother. “How did it happen?”

  “Well,” said Bonnie, “I brought my own material for the audition: the balcony speech from Shakesbear’s Romeo and Juliet. You know—‘Romeo, oh, Romeo . . . wherefore art thou Romeo?’ Anyway, they ate it up. Then the casting director recognized me from one of my TV commercials. And he called C.B. in Hollywood to get his okay to cast me as Rose O’Beara.”