Fibles (4 page)

"Fraidy, since you gave a Hoot to this inquiry, you are hereby cleared of all the cat burglary charges," announced the camp counselor.

Fraidy was greeted by all the kids, who now accepted him as their new friend. They asked him why he didn't know who done it.

"It's not who you know; it's Hoot you know," said the not-so Fraidy the cat.

Ellie the elephant enjoyed humming and beating to her favorite tunes while riding her small bicycle during her daily exercise routine. Suddenly, the batteries in her small music player went dead.

Ellie pulled her bicycle over and lifted up her big ears to take out her small listening pieces. Then she heard the live big-band sounds of horns blaring, drums banging, and cymbals crashing.

Ellie followed the big-band sounds with her big ears over to her school's practice field, where she saw her small chum Chummie the humming­bird standing on the sideline among a group of musicians.

"What's happening?" asked Ellie.

"They're conducting tryouts for musicians who want to be in the school marching band," said Chummie.

"Are you going to try out for the band?" asked Ellie.

"I'm not a musician, because I can't hum a tune or keep a beat," said Chummie, pointing to his tin ears.

Before the marching band tryouts began, Ellie noticed all the musicians practicing their marching moves by high-stepping their legs, pivoting their feet, and spinning instruments in their hands.

Right on cue, the marching band director, Brahmie the bull, climbed up on his pedestal, which towered over everyone on the sideline, and made his first announcement to the group. "All those wishing to try out for the brass section, please raise your hand!" blared Brahmie the bull through his bull­horn.

Ellie the elephant didn't have to raise her hand very high, because she was the biggest kid. She towered over everyone on the sideline and was chosen by Brahmie to be the first one to try out.

"I didn't know you were a brass player," said her small chum Chummie.

"Let's just say I have a lot of practice humming a tune," replied Ellie.

As Ellie stepped on the practice field, her big ears heard Cam the bighorn ram whisper, "They always make the biggest kid play the big tuba."

"Please pick up the big tuba and hum us a tune," directed Brahmie.

"I told you so!" yammered Cam the bighorn ram from the sideline.

Ellie looked at the director and pronounced, "I'm going to play all the small brass instruments."

Ellie began her tryout by trumpeting the horn, and then sliding the trombone, and finally fingering the flute, all right on key. Ellie finished her tryout performance by tossing the flute high into the air and catching it, just in time to hit the last note.

"Who would have thought the biggest kid could play all the small brass instruments?" said her totally amazed chum Chummie.

After all the try-outs for the brass section were over, the marching band director Brahmie made his second announcement to the group.

"All those wishing to try out for the percussion section, please raise your hand!" blared Brahmie the bull through his bullhorn.

This time Ellie realized she was the biggest kid on the sideline and only had to raise her trunk slightly higher than everyone else's hand, and once again was chosen by Brahmie to be the first one to try out.

"I didn't know you were a percussion player," said her small chum Chummie.

"Let's just say I have a lot of practice keeping a beat," replied Ellie.

As Ellie stepped on the practice field, her big ears heard Shep the hepcat whisper, "They always make the biggest kid play the big bass drum."

"Please pick up the big bass drum and keep a beat," directed Brahmie.

"I told you so!" Shep the hepcat said from the sideline.

Ellie looked at the director and pronounced, "I'm going to play all the small percussion instru­ments."

Ellie began her tryout by rolling the tom-toms, cracking the snare drum, and finally crashing the cymbals, all right on beat. Ellie finished her tryout performance by twirling the cymbals high over her head and crashing them, just in time to hit the last beat.

"Who would have thought the biggest kid could play all the small percussion instruments?" said her totally astonished small chum Chummie.

After all the try-outs for the percussion section were over, the marching band director, Brahmie the bull, got on his bullhorn and made one last announce­ment to the group.

"All those in favor of adding Ellie the elephant to the school's marching band, please raise your hands!" blared Brahmie the bull through his bull­horn.

"It's a unanimous decision!" cheered her chum Chummie. "I always thought you were just a music listener, because I always see you with your small music player and ear pieces. I never would have imagined you were a fantastic big-time player."

"Tell us how you can play so many different small instruments," said the group.

"Not only do I have an ear for music, but I also have the biggest ears," said the virtuoso Ellie, the fantastic elephant.

McKoo the cuckoo bird didn't think twice about keeping up with cleaning his clock, because the only thing on his mind was playing in the upcoming miniature golf tournament.

A knock came on the cuckoo clock door the morning of the tournament. It was McKoo's best friend and awful miniature golfer, Bobo the bobo­link, who excitedly shouted, "Let's hit the links and putt some awesome miniature golf!"

"I am so ready to putt in the miniature tourna­ment!" exclaimed McKoo.

Just as McKoo and Bobo were hopping out the cuckoo clock door with their favorite putters to go to the tournament, McKoo's wing-held device began chiming.

"Oh, no!" said McKoo. "I just got a tweet from Mom Cuckoo!"

"What does it say?" asked a concerned Bobo.

"It says you are to clean your clock before you do anything else today, because it's dusty and there are twig's all over the place," read McKoo.

"I'll ask my sister Betty Lou the cuckoo bird to clean my clock for me, and that way I'll be able to play in the tournament," thought McKoo.

"Sorry, McKoo, but I have a Hen Scout meeting today and besides, if you don't clean your clock, Mom Cuckoo will clip your wings," replied Betty Lou.

"Sorry, Bobo, but I won't be able to play in the tournament today, because I have to clean my clock," McKoo said sadly.

"Don't get your feathers all in a ruffle. I know how you can get two birds with one stone," stated Bobo.

"And how's that?" asked McKoo.

"Just tweet the Swift Brothers Cleaning Service, and they'll come over with their swifter's to dust and clean your clock," said Bobo.

McKoo tweeted the Swift Brothers Cleaning Service and gave them the address to the cuckoo clock on Oak Tree Lane, where he lived in the city park.

"The tweet is in, and we're good to go, Bobo," said a relieved McKoo.

The birds of a feather then grabbed their putters and together flew the coop to go enter the miniature golf tournament. After signing up for the tournament, McKoo and Bobo went over to the bulletin board to look at the pairing sheets to see against whom they would be playing.

"McKoo, who are you paired with?" asked Bobo.

"Oh, no!" chirped McKoo. "I'm paired with Baldwin the eagle, who happens to be the best minia­ture golfer on the tournament circuit."

"Whew!" chirped the relieved Bobo. "I'm paired with Parmore the partridge, who's just par for the course."

The tournament began with a birdcall of "Fore" by the awful Bobo, who knocked over the windmill on the first hole because his style of miniature golf was hooking, slicing, and hacking every hole. At the end of the round, Bobo was trounced by Parmore the partridge's style of parring every hole.

McKoo's style of birdieing every hole was no match for Baldwin the eagle's style of eagling every hole, with putting like clockwork. Scores at the end of the round showed that Baldwin had cleaned McKoo's clock by eighteen shots.

At the awards ceremony, Baldwin the eagle once again was crowned the miniature golf cham­pion. As he raised the trophy over his head with his wings, all the birds graciously flapped their wings. Another tournament had come to a successful end, and all the birds flew back to their coops.

McKoo was just about to land at his cuckoo clock when he noticed Mom Cuckoo pacing back and forth on the perch outside of the clock door. Her wings were folded, and this signaled something was not right on the clock front.

"Oh, no!" said a concerned McKoo. "I'd better tweet the Swift Brothers Cleaning Service to make sure they cleaned my clock."

The Swift brothers replied, "We stopped by, but there was nothing to clean."

"What do you mean, there was nothing to clean?" tweeted back McKoo.

"We're chimney swifts, and since your clock didn't have a chimney, we had nothing to clean!" stated the Swift brothers.

"I'm definitely a birdbrain for listening to Bobo's know-how!" said McKoo ruefully.

Bobo tweeted McKoo later that evening and asked, "How did you shoot in the tournament, and how did the Swift brothers do in cleaning your clock?"

"Needless to tweet, I got my clock cleaned on all accounts," tweeted the clipped-winged McKoo the cuckoo bird.

Pikasso the pika wasn't the most talented kid in arts and crafts class because of the mess he always made. When the class was asked to form a circle with their desks, he made a mess by screeching and squealing his all over the floor.

Once everyone gathered around Miss Gnu, the art teacher, she told the class that the theme for the Show-and-Tell on parent's night would be, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

All the kids in the arts and crafts class started dreaming and imagining about who they were going to be when they grew up. Some of the kids began blurting out their visions of the future without asking to be called upon.

"I want to be a firefighter!" Ty the firefly shouted as his rear end lit up.

"I want to be a model," Pink the piglet giggled as her tail curled up.

"I want to be an artist," Pikasso the pika bris­tled as his hair stood up.

"Listen up, everyone, because what's going to be new this year is that all of you will be required to bring in props, so you can show what your career choice would look like as you tell it," added Miss Gnu. "Are there any new questions?"

"Will my beret and smock be good enough to count as props?" inquired Pikasso.

"No, you will have to bring in some new artwork for props," answered Miss Gnu.

"I've seen your artwork, and you can't even color inside the lines," chided Vinnie Van Goat.

All the kids began berating his beret and mocking his smock, which made Pikasso's spirits sink to a new low.

After the arts and crafts class was over, Pikasso raced home and decided to lift his spirits by practicing on some new artwork. There was a note on the refrigerator door, reminding him to clean the barbecue grill.

No one could have imagined what the Pika family would see that day after they pulled the car into the garage and went into the house.