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Animal FriendsFloating Orange Cubes
Written by Rob Towner
Illustrated by the students at
St Dominics Centre for Hearing Impaired Children
Edited by Andrew Towner
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Copyright 2013 Rob Towner
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-0-9923-161-0-5
robt.info
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Special Thanks:
Katrina McKelvey, Cynthia Hyde, Zoe Disher, Kaz
Delaney, Jess Black, Leila Rudge, Deborah Kelly,Kirrili Lonergan and Helen Ryan.
MJ Editing, CBCA, SCBWI, The Hunter Writers
Centre, Books In Homes Australia.
All the students and teachers atSt Dominics Centre for Hearing Impaired Children.
MacLeans Bookstore in Hamilton - just for being a
nice place to hang out and read.
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2016
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Why dont insectshave any decencyabout them? Why is
it that when youre watchingyour favourite cartoons on aSaturday morning they always
seem to pop up unannouncedand uninvited and just waltzall over your television screenlike theyre lord bloody muck?
Stupid Insects
Is it because they dont haveany manners? Are their brainstoo small to contemplate theslightest amount of commoncourtesy? Or are they actual-
ly trying to tell us something?Something that is so importantthat they will risk getting yelledat, swiped at and sprayed at
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whilst screaming through their
tiny little insect mouths at us?
Abby was only six years old andas far as she was concerned,the Flies that were now walk-
ing over the television screenduring her precious cartoontime should prepare to die.
Get out of the way Flies! I am
trying to watch telly!
Now standing on her favour-ite leather couch, she slammedthe remote control down on
one of the cushions so hard thatit bounced right back and hither square in the forehead. Agiant red lump swelled underher straight blonde hair.
Ooowwwwww!
Abbys miniature howl spat outthe Fly screen door of the two
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story town house, sending ner-
vous animals in the backyardscurrying back to their hidingspaces.
She stormed into her parents
kitchen, creating a crashingnoise of pots and pans. Fiveseconds later she returned,armed with a heavy duty can ofFly spray and a pink plastic Fly
swatter that looked like it couldsquash a Cat.
Abigaaaaaaaaaaaail.
Uh-oh. When Abbys Dad sangher name with a deep voiceit always made her freezein her tracks. This alwaysmeant trouble, but this time it
denitely wasnt fair.
Daaaaad.
Abby engaged whiney-voice
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mode one of her better
defence strategies.
Its not faaair. The stupidinsects keep buzzing around theTV screeeeen and Im trying to
watch cartooooons!
Steve was sitting at the kitch-en table, buried so deep in theweekend newspaper that Abby
hadnt noticed him earlier whenshe got the spray. But he hadalways had a sixth sense whenit came to Abbys movements.
Abigail. Steve repeated.
Okay. Fair or not, her name hadbeen called twice. This meantthat if she didnt walk back into
that kitchen and start a conver-sation, the Fly swatter she wasso eager to use would henceforth be known as an AbbySwatter. She slumped back with
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her shoulders hung low, listen-
ing to those pesky Flies stillbuzzing around the TV screen.And now, because of them,instead of watching cartoons,she was in trouble. GREAT!
Aabbyy.
His voice sounded much calm-er, now that she was in thesame room as him. Maybe shewouldnt be getting punishedafter all. Had whiney-voicemode succeeded yet again?
She lifted her head.
You are not to be using anysuch Fly spray on any such in-sects. Do you understand me?
WHAT? But Daaaaad! Its notfair! Why cant I just kill themand get it over with? Whatsthe point of keeping so much
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Fly spray in the house if we
cant use it?
This was a valid point. AbbysDad stockpiled Fly spray likeit was going out of fashion.Why couldnt she use any?
The buzzing noise from thelounge room was growinglouder and louder in Abbysears, as though she was beingmocked.
Steve didnt answer her
onslaught of questions. Heneatly put the morning paperto one side and pulled a wood-en chair out next to him as a
peace offering.
Take a seat sweet pea... Itsstory time.
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Even though they yell and
scream sometimes, makeyou miss cartoons andare terrible at cooking dinner,dads tell the best stories ever.And theres no better time for
your dad to drop a story on youthan just after youve gotten into trouble.
Daddy
This was probably Abbys fa-
vourite part about listening toher dad tell stories. She lovedthe crazy characters that wouldbabble on about nonsense, andthose ingenious plot twists that
seemed to wind on forever. Butmainly, she loved the fact thatthirty seconds into telling oneof his weird and wonderful
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stories, Steve would completely
forget that his daughter was sup-posed to be getting punished.
Abbys mother Julie regretfullydid not share the same level of
forgetfulness when it came topunishments. In fact, her mumwould often openly reminisceabout punishments she used todish out just to try and scare
her in to being good. It usuallyworked too, which meant Abbykept well clear of mischief out-side of business hours.
Steve was more like a big cud-dly teddy bear. He was hairy allover (except for on the top of hishead), he had big strong armsand always smelt like seafood.
Plus, he was still wearing hisstriped blue pyjamas and brownslippers. Abby rarely felt threat-ened by her dad, no matter how
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naughty she had been.
He chomped one last bite of hisOyster and peanut butter toastand washed it down with a biggulp of mandarin juice. And
just before he started telling thestory (before he started everystory), he cracked his knuck-les, collected his thoughts andwhispered gently into Abbysear...
Abby, the story I am about totell you was told to me by my
father when I was your age andI think you are now old enoughto hear it too. It is a very im-
portant story. It is a true story.And you need to make sure
you are paying the utmostattention, okay?
She knew the drill. It was story
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time. Way better than cartoons.
Killing Flies instantly droppedoff the to-do-list and the buzz-ing noise in her ears switchedoff like a light. Abby noddedwith delicate precision, cautious
to ensure with one hundred percent certainty that she wanted tohear this story. Every last wordof it.
Sitting up straight on thepolished wooden chair, Abbycould just rest her arms on thekitchen table. Her blonde hairshook like a Foxs tail against
the back of her pink dress whilsther little legs dangled over theedge, revealing cute little frillysocks.
How could anyone possibly pun-ish such an innocent creature? Itwas impossible to imagine thatonly moments earlier the samelittle girl had had the look of
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utter destruction in her eyes.
Steve leant back in his chairand grabbed a giant brown bookfrom the shelf behind him. He
placed it on the table in front
of him, blew dust off the coverand started ipping through the
pages with his chubby ngers.
Ah, here it is.
He reached into his pyjamachest pocket to grab his specta-cles to make sure he could readthe tiny little words properly.
This is the story of Patrick theCicada, the bravest little in-sect who ever lived. And guesswhat... this story took place in
our very own backyard. Are youready, Abby?
Abby nodded again, faster thana jackhammer.
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1956
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Abbys backyard looked
exactly the same allthose years ago, com-plete with lush green grass, aeucalyptus tree down the backand a rusty old trampoline
barely standing in the middle.A tin shed sat in the corner,hidden by overgrown weedsand an unusually large ower
Wayne TheRhinoceros
Beetle & Patrick
The Cicada
ACT 1
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pot lingered right near the steps,
which led down from the townhouse balcony. But what madethis backyard special was all theanimals living together in theone place.
You could see Spiders xingtheir webs before the next stormcame to wreck it again. Youcould see Snails hanging out
their wet shells on their littleSnail clotheslines. Birds circledin the sky over a nest in the treeand you could see a SausageDog holding hands with a
Penguin, both staring over thefence at the setting sun.
But you wouldnt see a Cica-da out at this time of year. Not
in Spring. Well, at least, youshouldnt. Did you know theyspend years living underground
before coming up? Its true. They
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arent allowed up here
until their mum and dad say so.Nevertheless, on this fatefulevening in the Spring of 1956,you could in fact see a youngCicada, playing with a Rhi-noceros Beetle on the trampo-line, without permission fromhis parents.
Wait, Patrick! You are doingit wrong! First you jump, thenI jump and then just before Imabout to land, you jump. Notthe other way around. Were
just going to have to keep prac-ticing until you get this right.
Sorry, its just that I... I...
I what? Less talking morejumping. Hoooah.
Wayne kicked his strong littleRhinoceros Beetle legs into
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a huge bounce, launching high
into the air. Patrick didntnotice though. He was too busynervously monitoring the holethat led down to his home nearthe fence.
...I should probably go homenow. Its getting dark and youknow my parents havent givenme permission to come to the
surface yet. If Im not back soonmums going to ip! You knowwhat shes... Wayne?
JUMP YOU IDIOT!
Wayne came crashing backdown head rst, landing righton Patricks head. The two ofthem ended up bouncing up
and down together in a tumbledball of bruises. Eventually, theyrolled to a halt near the springsat the edge.
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Oowwwwwwwwwwwch.
Great. Now Patrick had a bigred lump on his forehead andhis wings were all bent out ofshape. How was he going to
explain this one to his parents?
I dont feel so well. HeyWayne, since when do you havetwo heads?
Haha! I only have one headdummy. Youre seeing double.And I must say, you are theworst double-bouncer I have
ever met in my life.
Yeah, well... You are the worstdouble-bounce teacher ever!
It wasnt common practice forPatrick to throw insults. He rm-ly believed that anyone who didso only made themselves look
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stupid. But insults between
friends were only fun and games.
No way!
Yes way! Wooah...
Patrick paused. His pupils wereswimming in his eyes likeGoldsh in a bowl.
...Are you feeling dizzyWayne?
As Patrick attempted to returnto his feet, his head felt like it
was going through a tumbledryer. Waynes did too but heseemed to be enjoying the wholeexperience.
Yeahhh... Hey this is coool.
They were in no state to contin-ue bouncing. Trampoline time
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was well and truly over. The two
insects rolled over the edge, fellon the soft long grass below andstarted carefully walking backhome in a zig-zag line.
Same time tomorrow, Patrick?Or should I say... Pootrick?Hehe.
No way! I dont want to risk it
again. If my parents ever foundout I was playing above groundId be in so much trouble.
It must be terrible having par-
ents. Im glad I never met mine.You want to know who takescare of me? Me, thats who.Im my own boss. I play when Iwant to play and do what I want
to do.
That sure sounds nice. Id keepplaying if I didnt have parents,
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but I do so I have to go now.
Wayne didnt want play timewith his friend to be over. Asmuch as he gloated about hisfreedom, being alone always
reminded him of the fact thathis parents had abandoned himwhen he was little. He success-fully stole a few more minutesof Patricks time.
Hey, is that Pengita thePenguin and Colonel Mustardthe Sausage Dog? Lets go seewhat theyre up to.
Ok. But after that I denitelyhave to go home.
The two friends continued on
stumbling through the grass tosay hello to the Penguin and theSausage Dog.
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This Opening Cere-
mony party is go-ing to be a hoot and
a holler Musty! Just look atall that long green grass, per-fect for throwing up a fancymarquee and having an oldfashioned dance-a-roo. We canhang the fairy lights from thetree to the trampoline and greetour guests at the gate. And didI tell you Sally the Snail has ar-ranged one of those televisionthingies to be here? Ive stored
Colonel MustardThe Sausage Dog
& Pengita The
Penguin
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it in the shed. Well be able
to actually watch the Olym-pic Ceremony as it hap-pens! Oh how the... Mustard?MUSTARD! Are you even lis-tening to a word I am saying?
Yes my dear. Apologies, Iam just so overwhelmed withexcitement that I can hardlycontain my ears.
Poor old Colonel Mustard. Hiswife Pengita spent so muchtime talking that he barely usedhis ears at all anymore.
Poddlecock! You have thebiggest ears in all of Parksville,Musty. I know you were ignor-ing me. Why, Ill be damned if
you couldnt hear Ants fartingin Egypt. All my work friendsare going to be here so I needyou to be paying the utmostattention. Are we clear?
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Yes maam.
Excellent, now... whats therst rule?
His shoulders hung low as a
sigh escaped his lungs.
Dont talk unless someonespeaks to me.
Very good Musty. And thesecond rule?
Never, under any circum-stances, should I ever share my
opinion on a matter. Mere-ly nod and agree to everythingeveryone says.
Brilliant. As long as you can
remember those two rules, thiswill be one of the greatest Olym-
pic parties this backyard hasever seen! Have you arranged
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the caterer?
Yes maam. I have doneeverything you asked.
Splendid. And stop callingme maam, Musty. I am yourwife for heavens sake. Youcan call me Pengita like every-one else.
Yes Pengita.
Pengita the Penguin andColonel Mustard the Sausage
Dog continued surveying thelandscape of the backyard forthe party as the sun was goingdown.
Out of nowhere a sharp painstabbed Pengita right in herbum bum.
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Oooowwwwwwwwwwww!!
What was thaaaaat!?
She jumped so high that shecould see the cobbled alleyover the back fence. Her head
bumped a few branches of theeucalyptus tree and she camecrashing back to the ground. Agiant red lump swelled on herfurry head.
Wayne you bumbling littleBeetle, I should have known.Why dont you watch whereyoure going? That pointy end
of yours nearly damn well killedme. And what in the devil areyou doing with that Cicada? Dohis parents know hes up here?
Colonel Mustard couldnt helpbut chuckle ever so slightly.Luckily for him Pengita didntnotice.
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S-s-sorry Pengita. Patrick
and I have been playing onthe trampoline and were bothreally dizzy. Im taking himhome right now. We just cameover to say hello. Pleeeeasedont tell on us.
A small egg dropped out ofthe sky and landed right inPatricks hands.
Another fell and landed in apatch of weeds and anotherlanded on the trampoline.
What Colonel Mustard didnext was based on pure instinctalone. If the Birds those eggs
belonged to saw Patrick right
now, they would eat him up ina heartbeat.
Hop on my back son, Ill need
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to get you out of here.
He icked Patrick on to hisback with his big saggy earsand began running around the
backyard faster than a Cheetah.
Wheres your hole? Youbetter pray no one sees you.
ITS OVER THERE NEARTHE FENCE!
Patrick had to scream to makesure Colonel Mustard could
hear his voice through thewind. They were going light-ning speed. He kept a rmgrasp of the egg, careful not to
break it.
Colonel Mustard skiddedto a halt, sending Patrickying down one of the many
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Cicada holes scattered around
the backyard. He exploded outof the replace in his parentsliving room where all hisfamily were huddled togeth-er. The egg remained unbro-ken in his safe Cicada hands.
His parents and other siblingsall jumped up out of theircomfortable couches.
Patrick! What the devil isgoing on here?
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As she fell off her feet,Beatrice looked to hereggs that were now
bopping around like popcorn.
Leslie & BeatriceThe Parakeets
My babies!
She ew down to her nestfaster than a whipper snipper,
desperately trying to salvageany more from falling out. Herhusband Leslie heard her high
pitched squealing and swoopeddown.
Angel! Whats wrong?
Beatrice the Parakeet was
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crying hysterically and couldnt
even talk. All she could do waspoint her colourful wing in thegeneral direction of where theeggs had fallen. Leslies eyesscanned the backyard andzeroed in on the source ofBeatrices woes just seconds
before the Cicada managed tojump off the Sausage Dogsback carrying his egg.
His eyebrows dropped intohis nose and his pupils turneda ery red. He gave a whistle
to his green feathered broth-ers circling above the tree andused his wings to point to theCicada hole.
Wait Leslie! Dont let any-thing happen to that egg!
Leslie was absolutely furious
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and there wasnt much
Beatrice could have said ordone to calm him down. Hewould get his egg back nomatter how many animals gothurt in the process.
Theyve stolen our egg lads!Lets get it back.
Leslie and all the other Para-keet friends swooped downlike bullets on Patrickshidey hole and slammed in tothe dirt, beaks rst, all at the
same time. They ew back up,and slammed down again. Flewback up, and slammed downagain, beating the ground likea drum. They were relentless.
Its down there boys! Keeppounding!
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Fractures started splitting
down their yellow beaks butthat didnt stop them. Thelush green backyard nowlooked more like the ruggedGrand Canyon. The Birdsnally broke through the dirtroof of Patricks living roomand pecked the egg out of hisshaking hands.
Ill be taking my egg backnow you little thief.
As the Birds ew home to take
their fallen eggs back to thenest, all the other Cicadas inthe backyard were staring atPatrick the Cicada. Becauseof him, instead of getting
ready for bed, they were nowall homeless and standing onpiles of dirt. For many of themit was also the rst time theyhad seen the sky.
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Well done Patrick.
Who gave you permission toleave the underground?
You should be banned fromever going to the surface again.
Pengita the Penguin ran up thestairs that led to her bedroom,screaming at the top of herlungs.
My party! Youve ruined myOlympic party!
Colonel Mustard looked upsettoo but he was just pretendingto avoid being yelled at.
The crowds jeers hurt, butwhat hurt the most was that hisparents didnt say anything.
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They just stood there looking
at him with disappointment intheir eyes.
In the far distance, Patrickcould see Wayne the Rhinoc-eros Beetle peering out from
behind a bunch of weeds.They made eye contact for a
brief moment but neither saida word.
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Thats the last ofthem.
Henry &
Gertrude The
Cicadas
ACT 2
Colonel Mustard wiped thesweat off his forehead as he de-livered the nal load of Cicadasto their temporary new home
in the backyard shed. It wasnight time now, which meanttheir move went unnoticed tomost of the other animals in
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the backyard. There were
hundreds of Cicadas squattingin the shed, and even thoughtheir underground home had
been completely ruined, theywere all in high spirits. Youcould hear them singing sillysongs and erupting in laughter.
Doing a poo
Is what we do
It tastes like cheese
And smells like you
Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Patricks mum Gertrude wasstanding beside the rusted sheddoor, watching Colonel Mus-tard make his nal delivery.
She pulled him aside.
Thanks for your help Mus-tard. If only our son Patrick had
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more friends like you and less
friends like that ruddy Rhinoc-eros Beetle.
Actually, Patrick and I onlyjust met. He seems like a goodkid though. I hope you dontgo too hard on him. Besides,its good for kids to be ableto make their own mistakessometimes. Only way theylllearn.
Yes, well. He should haveknown better than to carry a
Parakeet egg into our home.He should have known thekind of trouble it was going to
bring. Henry and I sacrice alot to protect him, but he al-
ways manages to nd newways of getting into dangeroussituations.
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You and Henry sound like
really good parents. Where isHenry?
Hes over there, searching theshed for any potential threats.He doesnt stop.
Henry was in the back cornerof the shed by himself, pull-ing the sheet off a large square
box to make sure there werentany Mouse traps or sharpobjects hiding underneath it.
I wonder what the devil thisthing is?
He pulled and pulled untilnally, the dusty covered
sheet fell right off. A greenglow radiated out of the box,shining a bright light acrossthe shed walls and on tothe hundreds of Cica-
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das that were crammed inside.
The curious crowd all turnedtheir heads at the same time.
What is it?
Its beautiful.
Colonel Mustard answeredtheir questions, unaware thatthey had all just beenhypnotised.
Oh, thats just the televisionPengitas Snail friend was go-
ing to have at our party. Prettyneat, huh? Theyre becomingquite popular apparently. But Iguess we wont be needing itanymore. Stupid Birds. They
can be so mean sometimes.
The Cicadas werent listening.Their eyes had all turned
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green, reecting the light of
the glowing box. They all start-ed slowly walking towards it,mesmerised by its hypnoticshine.
The very rst televisionswerent the same as the oneswe have today. This one in
particular had a screen madeof a watery goo-like sub-stance you could sink yourhands into. All the Cicadaswalked straight through it.Instantly, they snapped back to
their senses on the other side,only to nd they were fallingfrom the sky at a rapid rate.
Hundreds of Cicadas tumbled
back to earth without a clue asto what had just happened tothem. Gertrude could think ofnothing other than nding herfamily as she fell in a tail spin.
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Henryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
Her screams were easy to dis-tinguish. All the other Cicadaswere laughing and enjoyingthe free fall.
Gertruuuuuuuuuuuuuude!
Whhheeerreees Patriiiick?
Im over heeeeeeere Mum!
They managed to grab eachothers hands and prepared
their wings for a bumpy ride.Patrick was probably the mostconfused of them all.
Where are we? What just
happened?
We just fell through a clouddoor, son. Look! Theres our
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backyard. Get your wings
ready. Steady as she goes.
Cicadas had great night vision.They all banded together insmall groups, threw their wingsout and glided back down like
professional hang gliders. Pat-rick spotted Colonel Mustardwagging his tail below themand broke away from his
parents.
Ill see you guys back at theshed. Im going to go and chat
with my new friend and seeif he can tell me exactly whathappened.
Colonel Mustard had watched
the whole thing unfold beforehis eyes.
Patrick! That was crazy! Firstyou were all like walking into
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the television screen, the next
I start hearing these screamscome from the sky. I look upand I just see you all fallingthrough Cloud James.
Cloud James?
Patrick really didnt knowmuch about the world aboveground. Hed only ever beenup once or twice to play withWayne and thats it. Before to-day he didnt know what CloudJames was, what a trampoline
was and he certainly had nev-er heard of a television before.Colonel Mustard had beenaround the block plenty oftimes and decided to enlighten
his new friend.
Well, yeah. Thats his name.He is a really nice cloud
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and he doesnt say much.
Youve never met him beforePatrick? Look up. Hes smil-ing down on us right now.Anyways, that was so cool.The television must be someweird portal or something. I
put the cover back over it soyou wouldnt go all goo gooeyes on me again.
Thanks Mustard. It was somuch fun free falling throughthe sky. We should do it againand you should come too. You
could use your ears as wings.Wayne the Rhinoceros Bee-tle walked up behind ColonelMustard and Patrick and threw
his arms over their shoulders.Hed also seen what hadhappened and was jitteringwith excitement.
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Guys, I have the perfect idea.
You know what we should do?We should use that weird
portal thingy to pull a prank onthose Parakeets. Thatd showem for ruining your homes.
His excitement clearly hadntrubbed off on the others asquickly as hed expected, so hetried selling it.
Just think, Mustard. If Pengitasees you stand up to those bul-lies, she will have a lot more
respect for you. She mighteven stop bossing you aroundall the time. And Patrick, thismay be your one chance toget out of all the Cicadas bad
books. You would be a hero!
Patrick and Colonel Mustardlooked at each other and smiled.
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Patrick then looked to Wayne.
Were in. But what kind ofprank do you have in mind?
Colonel Mustard pulled thetwo little insects in closer withhis big oppy ears.
You guys leave the thinkingto me. I have the perfect plan.
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Y
oure listening toCarter and Riley onAF Radio Classic
Hits, the only animal friendsradio station broadcasting outof a ower pot. Were bring-ing you the hottest music from
across the entire backyard.Coming up next youll be lis-tening to a live performanceof Lance and the Lady Bee-tles. But rst, a word from our
sponsors.
Carter TheSpider & Riley
The Snail
Colonel Mustard the SausageDog burst through the radiostations ower pot doors with
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Patrick on his back. The two
radio presenters recognisedMustard immediately. Carterthe Spider was the rst toacknowledge their presence.He took his red uffy ear
phones off with two hands,gently placed his tea cup downon the desk with two handsand gave Colonel Mustards
big oppy left ear a high vewith another hand.
Musty! How you been oldboy? Still in the navy?
The navy? Hah! Those daysare long behind me. Nah, thesedays I just kind of hang out inthe backyard listening to your
show.
Excellent, Musty, excellent.And Pengita? She still ridingyour chain? Hehe.
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Colonel Mustard shot a
nervous look to Patrick.
Hehe. Pengita is ne thankyou, Carter. Listen. Me and myfriend here really need yourhelp. Have you heard aboutall this mess with the Cicadaslosing their homes because ofthose damn bully Parakeetstearing up the joint?
Riley the Snail nally decidedto chime in, twirling a glass of
pink lemonade in his hand (The
colour of which also matchedhis scarf and beret).
Yehhhh, we had a fewcalls about that this morning
actually. I heard the Cicadasare living in the shed now. Isthat true? That place gives methe creepy crawlies.
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It is true, and weve got a
great idea to get back at thoseBirds and teach them a lesson.
Nothing crazy, we just want torufe their feathers a little bit.
Carters eight eyes all lit up atonce.
I like it, I like it. So, where dowe come into this?
Colonel Mustard paused tochoose his words carefully.
We need to speak to yourlisteners.
Carter and Riley leaned backin their chairs. Carter twid-
dled all his thumbs togetherwhile Riley swirled his pinklemonade. Patrick sensed theirhesitation and threw his twocents in.
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Excuse me kind sirs, my name
is Patrick.
The two radio presenters leanedforward again, swooned by theCicadas humble disposition.
Well, hello there little fella.
I know you dont know me,but I am the reason those Birdsattacked our home yesterday.You see, if I hadnt gone aboveground without permissionI...
You-went-above-groundwithout-permission!?
Yes sirs. It was a stupid thing to
do I know. But if your listenerscan help us teach these Birdsa lesson, us Cicadas might beable to live without fear of be-ing threatened by them again.
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Wed be able to stop hiding in
the scary shed.
Patrick opped his head downon his chest, looking sad anddefeated (brilliant move). Atear drop started rolling downCarters cheek.
Oh... Why not? Besides, ourboss loves it when we dolittle pranks on the air. Are youready to roll, Mustard?
Colonel Mustard shot the pair
a wink. The on-air light wentred and Carter grabbed themicrophone with one of hismany spare arms.
Alrighty folks, we have agreat performance by Lanceand the Lady Beetles comingstraight to you but before we go
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there, my good friend Colonel
Mustard the Sausage Dog hasan important announcement tomake.
Mustard grabbed the micro-phone with one of his ears likea natural.
Thhaaats right folks I havesome great news. If you haventalready heard, those mean oldParakeets that ruined the yardyesterday also left hundredsof Cicadas without a place to
call home. Im here to tell youthat we will be standing up tothose bullies right now to sayenough is enough.
Carter and Riley gave eachother a high ve in excitement.Nothing like a little on-airjustice to boost the ratings.Mustard continued.
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But we need your help. Please
come to the backyard shed inve minutes. Because we aregoing to jump through a tele-vision screen, fall out the skyand poo all over those meanBirds.
Carter and Rileys jawsdropped to the oor (alongwith the drinks they were bothholding) and their phone linesstarted ringing out of control.
I dont even... What? How is
that going to? Where did I...
Patrick and Mustard ran out ofthe ower pot doors as fast asthey had come in.
No time to explain guys.Weve got to roll. If you wantto join us, you have to comenow.
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Carter and Riley both looked
at each other again. Their littleprank had denitely gone toofar this time. Now they werein some serious trouble. Therewas nothing else for it but tograb their coats and y off theirswivel chairs.
Wait for us!
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It was a turnout of animalsthe likes of which the back-yard had never seen before.
Melbourne Zoo was empty
and the backyard was packedto the brim. A parade of ani-mals were on hand and readyto deliver their own little poo
package to those bully Birds.
The Great PooAttack
Every species you could imag-ine came armed with a bel-ly full of poo ready to shoot.The ones that couldnt y had
shown up with parachutes for asafe landing. There were Lions,Bears, Rabbits, Horses, Zebras,Turtles, Spiders, Kangaroos,
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Platypuses, Apes, Giraffes and
enough Flies to ll a house.You name it, they were allthere.
There was even a Dinosaurthere ready to drop a big pooon those mean old Birds. AStegosaurus I think it was.Apparently he had survivedthe whole extinction thing andwas living in some town housenear Carlton. When it came toanimals, those Cicadas surehad a lot of friends on their
side. It turns out, when animalsnd out someone is a bully,they will go to extreme lengthsto poo all over them.
Patrick pushed his way throughthe crowd. He stepped on to thecovered box in the shed and
proudly faced all the animals.
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He had never led an army
before, but imagined this iswhat it would feel like.
Alright guys. Firstly, I justwant to thank you all for com-ing on such short notice. I hopeyouve all had plenty to eat.Hehe.
The animals roared with laugh-ter and farts. Patrick gentlyapped his back wings downto get a bit of silence.
Secondly, please rememberthis is a poo attack. NOT a weeattack.
Patrick deliberately looked
down at his friend Wayne theRhinoceros Beetle whose facewas going red with embarrass-ment.
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Must you always bring that
time up? It was an honestmistake!
Patrick kept his serious hat onand continued addressing hisarmy.
Poo is funny. Wee is just plainrude. Lets keep it poo onlyfriends. So if anyone doesntneed to go Number Twos, then
please remain here. And lastlyI...
One of the Elephants in theback interrupted.
Dont worry guys. My poowill be big enough to ood the
Murray River!
The animals erupted in laugh-ter once again. All except an
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embarrassed lady Elephant
standing next to him whosecheeks were now also shining
bright red.
There was no need for Patrickto continue rambling. His newfound friends were ready to
party. It was poo time.
FOLLOW ME EVERY-ONE!
Patrick jumped up as ColonelMustard pulled the sheet off
the box. All the animals walkedthrough the television screenin a single le, falling out ofthe sky on the other side.Patrick ushered them all
through with the wave of hiswings. Some of the fatteranimals had to squeeze through
but they all made it.
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One by one they shot through
Cloud James and started fall-ing back to Earth. At the righttime they all pulled down their
pants, grabbed their toilet pa-per rolls from their back packsand started pooing all over theParakeets that were sitting inthe tree below them.
It was raining poo like youwouldnt believe. All differentkinds of poo hit those Birdsright in their faces. There were
big poos, little poos, wet slop-
py poos, hard poos, brownpoos, black poos, red poos,green poos and even rainbowcoloured poos. And they allsmelt horrible... except for the
Lady Beetle poos... they smeltlike strawberries.
The Birds were covered in so
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much poo that they couldnt
move. Patrick had been thelast to jump through the tele-vision and oated past the treetop holding on to a special pooumbrella. He spotted Leslie,the Bird that had ruined hishome, and laughed a victorylaugh.
That was for ruining my homeyou lthy animal. From nowon you leave us Cicadas alone,or well have another little poo
party and youll be the guests
of honour.
The Parakeets were so madbut they couldnt even moveor speak, they were covered
from head to toe in all differentkinds of poo. Patrick continuedoating back to the backyard
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like a feather with a big old grin
on his face. His parents wouldbe so proud of him... surely.
A nice thought occurred toPatrick as he landed. All theCicadas could live in the euca-lyptus tree with the Parakeets.They were even now, right?Who knows? Maybe theCicadas and the Parakeetscould even one day be friends.
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Im sure you all under-stand why I called thismeeting today. As you
all know, our humble little Par-akeet town was ambushed by a
full scale poo attack a few daysago. Many of you, myself in-cluded, have spent the last fewdays showering from beak toclaws trying to get the hideous
smell out of your feathers.
Payback ForPaying Them
Back For That
Payback
The boardroom inside the eu-calyptus tree trunk was full of
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angry, smelly Parakeets all
screaming for vengeance. Les-lie sat at the head of the tableand continued to address hisfollowers.
We did nothing to deservebeing poo attacked the waywe were. Weve sat by andwatched as those damn insectsmoved into our tree, took overour homes, and for what?Because we were trying to
protect our eggs? Ha!
Some of the Parakeets sittingat the boardroom table startedspeaking up.
We want payback, Leslie!
We cant let them get awaywith this!
This is our home, not theirs.
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Leslie spread his wings and
gently apped them down,bringing everyone to silence.
We cant just attack them againlike last time. They have toomany powerful animal friends.I want to get those Cicadas outof here more than anyone, butit must be done with extremecaution. Do any of you wantanother Elephant poo hittingyou square between the eyesagain? Do you want to spendanother couple of days scrub-
bing Tiger poo out of your earsor ossing Hippopotamus pooout of your teeth? I didnt thinkso.
You could have heard a pindrop other than Leslie speak-ing.
We may not have as many an-
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imal friends as those Cicadas,
but we are friends with themost powerful species on this
planet... Humans. Over the lastfew days I have been secretlyworking with Humans to bringthe most evil biological weap-on the world has ever seen rightinto our very own backyard.
Leslie reached into his pocket,pulled out a silver can and lift-ed it high into the air for all tosee.
Humans call it... Fly spray.When Humans spray this stuff,it kills any insect instantly.
Beatrice stormed out of the
room crying.
Ill have no part in this, Les-lie. You have gone too far thistime.
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All the other Parakeets sat back
in their chairs scratching theirheads.
But... we cant spray thatstuff. We dont have opposablethumbs.
Yes I know that ding brain.The Humans will spray it.
How are we going to getHumans to spray the insectswith this stuff?
Leslies eyes widened and asmile nally crept onto hisbeak.
Ah, my good friend. Im glad
you asked. We are going to beatthose little insects at their owngame. You see, we are also go-ing to use the television. Right
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now as we speak, every home
in Australia is installing a tele-vision so they can watch theOlympics. We will be broad-casting an advertisement, con-vincing everyone to go and
buy this stuff and spray it allover the place.
Leslies words washed overtheir vengeance-hungry soulsthe same way that rst sip oflemonade tickles the back ofyour throat on a hot Summerday.
Youre a genius Leslie!
Finally those insects will payfor their poo attack.
Leslie wasnt done yet though.He lowered his voice to a dullwhisper just so those in theroom could hear him.
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And heres the sweet part...
He paused and swept his eyesacross every Parakeet stillsitting in the boardroom.
Every time Humans spraythis stuff it creates a oatingorange cube invisible to theHuman eye. With each spray,these oating orange cubesget bigger and bigger. Even-tually these oating orangecubes will be so big that theywill block Cloud James cloud
door, which means...
Leslie didnt even need tonish. His brothers werenally on the same page.
Animals wont be able totravel through the televisionscreens anymore!
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Exactly.
From her bedroom window,Beatrice could hear the euca-lyptus tree boardroom eruptwith cheers and excitement.
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After a few days had
passed, the Cicadaswere starting to feelright at home in their new treehouse. It was much nicer thanthe cold, scary shed and had
much better views of the back-yard too. They also had enoughnew animal friends to not feelthreatened by the grumpy Par-akeets they were living with.
Foiled
They would play endlessgames of Who Farted?, wasteall the Birds water by havingextra long showers and hang
their smelly socks all over theplace. What really grinded theParakeets gears though werethe songs they would constant-
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ly sing about their poo attack
victory.
We all did a poo on them
And now those Birds are grumpy
Is it because our poos tasted like phlegm?
Or because they were extra lumpy?
Ah hahahahaha hahahaha
It was all in good fun and theCicadas only meant their slyjeers as friendly banter, but theParakeets werent laughing.Leslie and all the other Para-keets had actually been quitecareful not to retaliate. Theywere waiting for the mostopportune time.
Early on a Saturday morning,that time came... much soonerthan the Parakeets had origi-nally expected too.
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Leslie and his gang tippy
toed into Patricks room justbefore the sun had shown itsface (Somehow Patrick had aroom in the tree all to himself.
Not sure how he managed thatone. All the other Cicadas hadto share.). They circled his bed,forming a Parakeet ring with-out waking him. Leslie leanedforward and softly whisperedinto his ears.
Paaaaatrick.
Whaaat? Its Saturday morn-ing! Go away!
Paaaaaaaaaaaaaatrick.
GO AWAY! Ill speak to youlater. You dont want me tocall my animal friends on youagain do you?
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Ohhhh Paaaaaaaaaaaaatrick.
Patrick nally opened his blod-shot eyes.
WHAT!? THIS BETTER BEIMPORTANT!
All the Parakeets had Patricksurrounded. They ipped outtheir little Parakeet doodlesand started weeing all overhim.
Ahh! Wee attack! Gross!
Patrick threw off his doonacover, jumped out of his queensized bed and ran into themain hall. The Parakeets just
laughed as he ran away. Whenhe reached the main sleepingarea, Patrick saw that all theother Cicadas were sound
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asleep. The Parakeets hadnt
weed on anyone else but him.
Everyone! Wake up! The Par-akeets just weed on me! Weredoing another poo attack! Theyobviously havent learnt theirlesson. Everyone, get ready!We are going now!
Patrick marched through aislesof makeshift beds in the greathall of the tree, slapping Cica-das on the bum with his wings.
But Patrick, its Saturdaymorning. Cant we...
No! Ive just been weed on.Everyone follow me!
Henry and Gertrude were al-ready awake in their beds whenPatrick came past them. Henry
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reached out his hand and
grabbed Patrick by one of hislittle legs.
Those Parakeets are onlytrying to get a rise out of you,Patrick.
Patrick kicked the hand offhis leg and continued rallyingtroops, with beads of urine stillrunning down his wings.
Not all the Cicadas followedPatrick this time (Cicadas love
sleeping in on Saturdays), buta lot of them did. There werestill enough to carry out a seri-ous poo attack. They scurrieddown the tree trunk and when
they reached its base, Patrickran over and jumped onColonel Mustards back whilehe was sleeping.
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Mustard! We need to go see
your radio friends again! Weneed to arrange another pooattack.
Colonel Mustards eyelidsbarely even lifted a fraction ofa fraction.
Wha?? Its Saturday morning,Patrick! Why cant I.... Eeew-wwwww. What is that smell?
The Parakeets! They peed allover me.
Colonel Mustard let out a littlechuckle.
ITS NOT FUNNY MUS-
TARD!
Hehe, okay, okay. Hop onboard. Ill help you.
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Patrick climbed on his back and
motioned with his wings forthe other Cicadas to go to theshed. Colonel Mustard casual-ly waddled over to the ower
pot radio station and walkedthrough the front doors withPatrick kicking his heels intohis sides. When they arrived,Patrick just started talkingwithout any introductions.
Carter! Riley! Man, am I gladto see you guys! We need yourhelp again! Those...
Hey beat it kid. We arenthelping you again.
Carter the Spider didnt even
bother taking off his headphones, nor did Riley the Snail.The two radio presenters con-tinued monitoring the different
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buttons at their work stations.
They werent interested inlistening to anything Patrickhad to say and only spoke tohim to get rid of him.
Yeah, we got in big troublefor your little surprise pooattack last week. We almostlost our jobs. Just leave usalone, kid.
Patrick left the station a lotslower than hed arrived. Therewouldnt be a poo attack as big
as the last one. There couldntbe. There was no way to get incontact with all the other ani-mals (This was 1956 remem-
ber. They didnt have Face-
book or twitter back then). Thefoul stench of Parakeet weestill lled Patricks nostrils andhe was determined to get backat those Birds.
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Mustard! Will you and Pengi-
ta help me with one more pooattack?
Colonel Mustard could smellthe wee on Patrick too. Poorlittle guy.
Ill help you. I dont knowabout Pengita though. Wellhave to go and ask her.
Colonel Mustard waddled upthe stairs to Pengitas bed-room with Patrick the Cicada
on his back. Pengita lived ina very fancy outdoor laundryand slept inside a cosy tumbledryer that was lled with bed-sheets. Colonel Mustard and
Pengita hadnt spoken to eachother since the rst Parakeetattack so he was a little shaky.
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P-Pengita, we need your
help! C-Can you please comeand jump through the televi-sion screen with us and poo onsome Birds?
Pengitas high pitched voicesailed across the entire back-yard.
Absolutely not, Mustard. Idid not go with you last timeand I will not go with you thistime. It is rude, mean and nota nice thing to do, especially
for a lady. How dare you wakeme from my beautiful dream?Youre both in enough troubleas it is for ruining my OlympicOpening Ceremony party.
Patrick climbed off Mustardsback and knelt before Pengita.
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Pengita, you have every right
to still be mad at me for whatI did. I am extremely sorry forthat. But look at me. I am soak-ing in Parakeet urine. Those
bully Birds need to be taught alesson.
Im sorry, Patrick, but Im notin the business of standing upto bullies. You will have to gowithout me.
Pengita turned her back to theCicada and the Sausage Dog.
She was utterly offended thatthose two nincompoops wouldeven consider suggestingsomething so preposterous...so ridiculous... so stupendous
that...
What if I promised to throwyou an amazing Olympic
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Closing Ceremony party next
week? I will even hang thefairy lights myself.
Pengitas eyes opened. Hermind ran wild with ideas onhow marvellous an Olym-
pic Closing Ceremony partywould be.
Would there be a red carpet?And paparazzi? And celebri-ties? And caviar?
Of course, Pengita. Nothing
but the best for you.
Colonel Mustard couldnt be-lieve what he was hearing.Young Patrick had convinced
Pengita to join them in a pooattack. He didnt say anythingthough. He zipped his mouthand let Pengita nish speaking.
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Oh. Alright. I do have a nice
smelly poo ready to unload. Imay as well drop it on somemean old Parakeets.
Patrick was smiling for the rsttime all morning.
Thanks Pengita. I owe youfor this one.
They made their way down tothe backyard shed where theother Cicadas were patient-ly waiting. There denitely
werent as many animal friendsas last time. Patricks parentshadnt shown up, but his friendWayne the Rhinoceros Beetlehad.
Great to see you, Wayne.
Yeah, I wouldnt miss see-ing you covered in wee for
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the world. Hehe.
Colonel Mustard and Patrickboth lifted either end of thesheet that was covering the
box. One by one each animalwalked into the screen. Therewas no war cry this time. This
poo attack was strictly busi-ness. Pengita waddled throughand kissed Colonel Mustard onthe way out.
See you soon Musty boy.
Colonel Mustard and Patrickwere now the last ones left inthe shed. They gave each othera nod and...
...Just before they jumpedsomething very unusual
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happened. A giant blue cloud
squeezed into the shed fromthe other side of the screen,knocking Colonel Mustardand Patrick on their bums. Itwas Cloud James. What washe doing here?
Guys! This is bad. Oh boy,this is bad. Oh boy oh boy oh
boy oh boy...
Patrick tried to calm him down.
James, James, JAMES!...
The shed went silent.
...Just take a deep breath andtell us what happened.
There are these oating or-ange cubes up here. Theyrelike jelly or something I dont
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know. I have no idea where
they came from but A-A-A-All your animal friends have
just been trapped in them.They shouldnt have jumpedthrough. What were theythinking? I dont... I... Igotta go guys. These oatingorange cubes are getting too
big. Im getting all squished.Heeeeelp!
Cloud James disappeared.Colonel Mustard and Patrickwere speechless. The televi-
sion screen had now turned ashard as glass. What were theygoing to do?
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Leslie and his Parakeet
pals sat in deck chairs onthe main branch of the
eucalyptus tree, laughing and
drinking champagne.
Floating OrangeCubes
What did I tell you fellas? Notonly have we managed to getthose awful Cicadas out of our
home, but we aint got noneof their pesky animal friendstrying to drop poo on us fromthe sky neither.
The plan had worked perfect-ly and Patrick had fallen rightinto their trap.
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All the Cicadas, a Rhinocer-
os Beetle and a Penguin hadwalked through a televisionscreen expecting to comeout the other side skydivingthrough a friendly blue cloud.Instead, they all became stuckin the sky inside oatingorange cubes.
Fly spray had become a com-mon household product inAustralia overnight thanks tothe television commercial Les-lie put together. The oating
orange cubes had grown big-ger than any of the Parakeetshad anticipated and were nowscattered across the Australianskyline like gigantic hovering
jelly blocks.
So, are those animals going tobe alright up there, Leslie?
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Theyll be ne. In fact, they
will most likely end up livinglonger than us you know.
Live longer than us? Thatdoesnt sound too bad to meLes.
Believe me. You dont wantto be up there. Their bodiesare frozen but their minds arewide awake, theyre going to
be so bored. Hehe. Alone withtheir thoughts. Trapped forev-er. They wont be living in our
tree ever again.
Patrick was hanging under-neath the main branch of theeucalyptus tree and overheard
Leslies entire conversation.How could Leslie have donesuch a thing? They were sup-
posed to be animal friendsnow. He slowly crawled back
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down the tree trunk and ran
underneath the town house,away from everyone.
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Patrick hadnt showeredfor three days and was
beginning to smell like apoo himself. His wings werecreased and dust sprinkled on
him constantly from the creak-ing oorboards above. But hecouldnt go anywhere. TheParakeets all assumed he wastrapped in one of the oating
orange cubes and the remain-ing Cicadas had all been ban-ished from the tree to live be-yond the fence thanks to him.
The Outer SpaceOyster
ACT 3
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Instead, Patrick was cooped up
in a dark dusty corner underthe house, racking his brainstrying to think of a way to helphis friends get out of the pick-le they were in. He didnt havemuch to go off though. He hadno friends willing to help himand a gang of Parakeets yingaround that would throw himstraight into a oating orangecube if they had half a chance.
Three days he spent shackedup under the house and in those
three days not a single brightidea had popped into his littleinsect brain. On the third dayof living off of old cardboardand dirt, someone paid him an
unexpected visit.
Hellooo Patrick?
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What? Whos there? Go away.
M-m-my names not Patrick.
Yes it is Patrick. I know whoyou are.
W-w-who are you?
He peeked behind a brick walland saw what appeared to bean oversized Oyster hovering afew inches above the ground.It had a pink body, two littleholes for eyes and one littlehole for a mouth and spoke
with an extremely calm, high-pitched voice.
Im an Outer Space Oyster,Patrick. My kind has been
hovering above your atmo-sphere ever since the Earthwas born. I know everything.I also noticed your friends.
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They seemed like they could
use a little help, yes?
Riiiiight. Outer Space Oysteryou say... Why havent I seenan animal like you before?
Patrick rubbed his eyes overand over. Hed never seen anOyster, let alone a ying Oys-ter from outer space. It seemedquite intelligent though andanswered all his questions.
You do know those oating
orange cubes have put a holein the ozone layer dont you?I travelled through that hole toget here. Its only a small holefor now, so only tiny outer
space creatures like me can getthrough. But there are biggerouter space animals out therewaiting... much bigger.
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Ok. Why have you come
here?
I have come to help youhelp your friends, especiallythat Sausage Dog. I like him.Seems like a good bloke.
Yeah? And how do you planon doing that? Just y up thereand nicely ask? Oh, excuse meMr Floating Orange Cubes,can you go away now please?Thank you... Fat chance!
The Oysters belly jiggled ashe laughed.
Hee hee. I have a better ideain mind. Have you heard of a
television remote control,Patrick?
No. What is it?
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Its a fairly new invention.
Here I brought you one.
The Oyster exed his pinkbelly and a television remotecame squeezing out of his lefteye socket, plopping on theground in front of him.
Patrick, to save your friendsyou will need to sacrice some-one. Point this remote at who-ever you want, press the OK
button and they will replace allyour friends in the cube. Your
friends will then oat safelyback home.
Poor Patrick. His little brainhadnt a clue how to digest
everything that was happeningto him right now.
What? Isnt there an easierway? What if Humans just
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stopped using Fly spray?
Wouldnt the cubes shrinkback to nothing?
They would. But that meansyou would need to convinceover a million Humans to stopspraying that stuff. This wayis easier. Those oating or-ange cubes are only going toget bigger. Trust me... I knoweverything.
Patrick looked down at thetelevision remote. It was the
rst ray of hope he had seenin days. But now that it was infront of him he was more con-fused about what to do than
before.
I know its rough but its theonly way Patrick. Those oat-ing orange cubes are made ofsome pretty weird stuff. It took
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me a day or two just to get your
remote to work on them. Onlya handful of species in theworld can even see the cubes,you know. If I were you Id
be pointing this remote at thatmean old Leslie and gettingyour friends back down herein time to watch the ClosingOlympic Ceremony.
Patrick examined the televi-sion remote. It was a giant
black rectangle, ve times big-ger than he was with all sorts
of confusing buttons pokingout of its back. After severalminutes of staring at it he nal-ly spoke out loud to himself.
OK.
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Patrick emerged from un-derneath the house forthe rst time in days and
was immediately smacked in
the face with warm rays of or-ange sunlight. Already sweat-ing from dragging the remotethrough the dirt behind him, heraised his forearm to cover his
eyes, causing him to drop thetop end of it right down on hisheels.
Flying ThroughThe Sky
Mppgggrrrhhhhh!
His hands clasped over hismouth, blocking a giant screamfrom escaping his lungs. He
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didnt want to think about
what those Parakeets would doto him if they spotted him now.So just to be double careful, he
just whispered insults to thecofn-shaped object instead ofscreaming at it.
Youre a stupid remote! Doyou hear me? You should be
put in jail!
The back gate creaked in thewind, jolting Patrick upright.For a second there he almost
forgot why he was carrying theremote in the rst place. Hejumped on top of it and read-ied himself to press that OK
button just in case any Para-
keets had spotted him comingout of his hidey hole. It was afalse alarm.
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With shaking little legs, Pat-
rick lifted the remote back upto his backside and dragged itthrough piles of dirt to the baseof the trampoline, out of thesweltering sun.
I wonder if this is how Snailsfeel dragging their house allover the place?
He dropped to his bum, proppedhis back up against the side ofthe remote and began driftingoff to sleep, with sweat drib-
bling down his mangled wings.It was an amazing dream; y-ing through the clouds he couldsee all his animal friends hav-ing a party together. But it was
short-lived.
I told you he was over here.
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Colonel Mustard licked Patrick
awake and to his feet, coveringhim in drool. Henry and Ger-trude were riding on his back.
Thank God! Patrick! My boy.Where have you been? Yourmother and I have been search-ing everywhere for you.
Ive been...
He looked back towards thedoorway that led under thehouse and saw the Outer Space
Oyster watching over him.
...Ive come up with a planthats going to save everyonestuck in those oating orange
cubes. But Im going to needyour help...
Above them, the sound of ap-ping wings grew louder and
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louder and louder and louder
and stopped. Patrick loweredhis voice.
...Can you hear that? Werenot alone.
Leslie the Parakeet had owndown to the top of the trampo-line with a little baby Bird on hisshoulders. He was right abovetheir heads! Henry clasped hishands over Gertrudes mouthand Colonel Mustard wrappedhis oppy ears over Patricks.
Alright Sebastian, now I wantyou to pay close attention.Today, Im going to be teach-ing you how to do a double
bounce. Its a hard manoeuvrebut when you get it right, youare going to go soaring throughthe air and it is going to be somuch fun!
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The little Bird chirped and
chirped with excitement as thepair began gently bouncing onthe trampoline above them.
Hehe, thats it my boy. Youcan do it.
The two Birds continuedbouncing gently. Patricknoticed Henry whispering inGertrudes ear.
Naww. Hes teaching his littleboy how to y using the tram-
poline. That must be his littleegg we saw a few days ago.
Henrys wing was coveringGertrudes mouth but you
could tell she was laughing byher eyes. He lowered his wingto let her whisper back.
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Hehe, remember when you
used to bounce Patrick on yourknee? He would think he wasying.
The two parents giggled qui-etly with their arms aroundeach others shoulders. Whatgreat parents they were, Pat-rick thought to himself as hestared at them in silence. Thelast three days had been thelongest he had ever gone with-out seeing them and he was
just itching to talk to them. He
would tell them he was so gladto have them.
Looking back up to the Birdson the trampoline, Patrick
didnt see an enemy who hadpeed all over him anymore. Allhe saw was a father teachinghis son to y.
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Thats it, Sebastian. Now Im
going to do a big ying jump.This is how my dad taught meto y. Are you ready?
Chirp chirp.
Leslie launched himself highinto the air. If his son Sebas-tian had timed his jump justright, hed be getting dou-
ble-bounced high enough toy for the rst time. Lesliewatched and watched as hewent higher and higher but
Sebastian never jumped.
SEBASTIAN!
Leslie plummeted back down at
break neck speed. He stretchedhis wings to avoid hitting hisson and instead went ying
past the edge of the trampoline,crashing into a patch of grass
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right in front of Patrick and his
friends. The remote was point-ing right at him. He looked upand noticed the Sausage Dogand the Cicadas.
What?! How did you lthylittle Cicadas get back in this
backyard?
Patrick stepped forward onto the edge of the remote andspoke without fear.
I have come back to end this
nonsense between Cicadas andParakeets. All animals shouldbe friends. I got us into thismess and now I will get usout.
Leslie rolled up his colourfulfeathered sleeves and rakedthe ground with his feet.
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And just how do you... ??
Patrick interrupted him.
Let me show you.
Leslie jumped up in the airand ew back down attempt-ing to crash tackle Patrick intothe ground, but the little Ci-cada managed to jump out ofthe way. He was now stand-ing exactly where Leslie had
been standing. His parentsscreamed.
Patrick, no! What are you do-ing?
Dont worry about me. Ill be
alright.
He opened his arms and lookedto the sky as Leslie came downand landed on the OK button.
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A red beam of light came y-
ing out of the end of the remoteand Patrick disappeared. Hewas zapped right into the cen-tre of the oating orange cubesin the sky.
Above them, the other animalswere free. You could see themoating back down to earth.All the Cicadas were holdingon to a small chunk of the Pen-guins fur, apping their wingsto keep her from falling. TheRhinoceros Beetle was sitting
on Pengitas belly, guiding theCicadas back to the backyard.
Hard right gents! Werealmost there.
Now Patrick was the onlyanimal stuck up in the oatingorange cubes.
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Colonel Mustard, Henry and
Gertrude all looked nervous-ly at Leslie, afraid of what hemight do. But Leslie was milesaway. His back was slumped,his feathered sleeves wererolled down as he stared intothe depths of his empty hands.
He... he could have zappedME up in to sky to save hisfriends. But he didnt.
Gertrude felt comfortableenough to approach him and
put her wing over his back.Moments later, so did Henryand Colonel Mustard.
The animals that had been
freed from the oating orangecubes nally arrived back tothe yard and spotted Leslie,Colonel Mustard, Henry and
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Gertrude having a cuddle fest.
Gertrude! Henry! ColonelMustard! What are you guysdoing? Get away from him!Hell...
Gertrude put her free hand up.
Its alright guys. Leslie is ourfriend.
What? What happened ? Howlong have we been in that cubething? How did we get out?
Leslie stepped forward andspoke.
My friend Patrick just sacri-
ced himself for you. Thatswhat happened.
All the animals spent the restof the day staring up at the
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oating orange cubes, in awe
of what Patrick had done. Thetelevision remote control lay in
pieces in the grass and theOuter Space Oyster backedaway under the town house,smiling.
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Red carpet rolled outfrom the back gate, fairylights sparkled above
them in the moonlight andSnails slowly made their way
around the yard with bowlsof caviar sticky taped to theirshells. One by one, all differ-ent types of animals arriveddressed in their fanciest outts.
The BiggestAnimal Party Ever
There were Tigers, Turtles,Pigeons, Ants and millions ofFlies. Every animal you couldimagine had come to be a part
of Pengitas Olympic Clos-ing Ceremony party. Therewere even some special guestappearances by a few clev-er Whales that had walked
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on their tails out of the ocean
just to get there. As the guestsarrived, Henry the Cicadawas on the door to greet andwelcome all his animal friends.
Beatrice the Parakeet came y-ing through the back gate withlittle Sebastian close behind.
Henry! Love what youvedone with the place!Well, I couldnt have done itwithout the help of my good
friend Leslie over there. Les-lie was the one who organisedall those Humans to come inand landscape the place. HEYLESLIE! YOU WANT AN-
OTHER PINK LEMONADEWITH YOUR SAUSAGESANDWICH?
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Sure pal!
Henry pulled a can of icy coldlemonade out of the wateryice bucket and handed it to thelittle baby Bird that had justwalked by.
Here you go Sebastian, canyou take this over to yourdaddy?
Chirp chirp.
Good boy.
Leslie was by the barbequefrying up some onions andtalking to Pengita the Penguin.
Say Pengita, that husband ofyours is some swell guy isnthe?
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Who, Musty? Yeah, I suppose
he isnt too bad. Not too bad atall.
Colonel Mustard was over bythe trampoline stretching hisear up to it so that the young-er Cicadas and Parakeets couldwalk up to get on.
One at a time kids. And nodouble bouncing! Owww!Watch where youre going,Wayne!
Hehe, sorry Musty. I thinkI drank too much pinklemonade.
Gertrude the Cicada walked
past Colonel Mustard carryingtrays of fairy bread.
Maybe you could use a littlefairy bread, Wayne. I know it
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always makes me feel good
when Ive had too much todrink. Those lot over there looklike they could use some too.
Her head motioned over to allthe other Parakeets that werehuddled into a corner of the
backyard playing ring tosswith a handful of Kittens.
Im glad us Parakeets dontght with you Kittens no more.Means we can be friends and
play ring toss with you guys
all the time now.
Yeah, its great, isnt it?Because were going to win.Every time.
Oh, no you arent!
OH YES WE ARE!
OH NO YOU ARENT!
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A big Elephant named Jeremy
walked through the game andalmost trampled on all of them.No ones better at ring tossthan me. Can I play too?
Sure you can J-man. Here,have a...
As one of the Parakeets washanding over a ring to Jere-my, Carter and Rileys voicescame over the loud speakersthat were hanging all around
the place by Spider webs.
Animal friends. I think weare all here now. Carter andmyself just wanted to let you
know that the television isnow switched on near theback shed and the OlympicClosing Ceremony will beginin ve minutes. On behalf of
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everyone here, we would just
like to thank the lovelyPengita the Penguin formaking this the fanciest partythis backyard has ever seen.
Pengitas cheeks were glowinga rosy red as all the other an-imals turned and thanked her.Carter grabbed the microphoneand started speaking.
We would also like to thankyoung Patrick the Cicada forsacricing himself so that all
of us could be here together asfriends. If you can hear us mate,we just want you to know thateveryone is extremely proudof you and hopefully well see
you soon.
Everyone gave a quiet clap asColonel Mustard turned hishead to face Gertrude.
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We really are proud of him,
you know. It was a brave thingPatrick did for us.
Gertrude spoke back, neveronce dropping eye contact withHenry on the other side of the
backyard.
I hope hes alright up there inthat cube. Do you think hell
be up there long?
Oh, hell be alright. Im surethat Fly spray stuff is just a fad.
Those oating orange cubeswill disappear when those Hu-mans stop spraying. For now,all young Patrick will be doingis enjoying some peace and
quiet and watching over us. Ibet hed have an amazing viewof the Olympic Ceremony too.And the reworks. Hell havea front row seat.
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Gertrude smiled for the rst
time in days. She felt luckyto have Colonel Mustard asa friend. Her eyes were stilllocked in on Henrys.
Hehe. Youre right, Musty. Ibet hed have a big old smileon his face looking down onus now, seeing all us Cicadasenjoying a wonderful partywith our new Parakeet friends.
Im sure he would, Gertrude...Im sure he would.
Henry smiled back at Gertrudeas he closed the back gate.He kept his eyes on her as hewalked through the crowd of
animals, bellowing at the topof his lungs, ushering them tothe shed.
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Alright everyone shoosh!
Gather in! The OlympicClosing Ceremony is about to
begin!
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2016
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Abbys dad reached hishand under the bookand folded it shut.
The pages landed with an al-
mighty thud as a cloud ofdust exploded into the air. Hetook off his glasses, wipedthe dust off with his sleeveand placed them gently back
into his pyjama chest pocket.
The Big Hand &The Little Hand
And thats the story of Patrickthe Cicada, the bravest Cicadawho ever lived. Did you like
that story, sweet pea?
Abby let out a cough, brush-ing the cloud of dust out ofher face and looked up to her
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father with a big frown running
down her face.
What about Patrick daddy?What happened to Patrick? Ishe okay now?
Patrick still lives up in theoating orange cube sweety.
Abbys frown dropped evenlower, prompting Steve tosugar coat his last sentence.
...Uh, but dont you worry
your little head. Hes doingjust ne. He has plenty ofanimal friends keeping himcompany.
Abby turned her head back tothe living room and saw allthe Flies buzzing around thetelevision screen.
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Does that mean those Flies
can see him?
They can indeed, princess.They can talk to him too. Sohes never lonely. Lord knowswhat they talk about though.I would imagine they usually
just thank him for the bravething that he did.
The more Abby sat contem-plating the events that hadunfolded in the story, the moreher frown turned upside down.
After a long pause Abby spokeagain.
Hey dad, you know what myfavourite part was?
No sweety. What part?
I liked when all the animalsdid a poo on the Parakeets.
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Hehe, yeah. Me too. Hey, if
you liked that part, youll lovethis.
Steve lifted his right butt cheekup off the chair and let out agiant fart that Abby felt vibrateup her spine.
Haha! Gross dad!
Abby gently lowered herselfoff the chair and walked awayfrom the table and into thekitchen. She grabbed a clean
glass from the cupboards andthe pink lemonade from thefridge and poured herself adrink. Steve squinted his eyesand watched her the whole
time, waiting for her to showproper manners.
And just what do you thinkyou are up to? Arent you
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going to ask politely if you can
have that lemonade?
Its not for me dad. Imgiving it to the Flies that arekeeping Patrick company.
Steve smiled. How could any-one possibly punish such an in-nocent creature? Abby walkedinto the living room and over tothe television carrying the pinkdrink. Dipping her whole handinto the cup, she then proceed-ed to smear pink lemonade
all over the television screen.Steve buried his forehead intothe palm of his hands.
Here you go guys, Im so
sorry I was really mean to youbefore. From now on, we canall share the television togeth-er. We can be friends.
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Abby couldnt hear what the
little Flies were saying butthey looked extremely grate-ful. They all swarmed overthe lemonade on the screenand started soaking it up withtheir little straw mouths. Sheturned to face her dad who wasstill sitting at the kitchen tablelooking at Abby and shakinghis head.
Dad, I have an idea. Fromnow on, you and mum should
buy as much Fly spray as you
can. That way, the oatingorange cubes will disappearand our friend Patrick will beable to come back home.
Steve rolled his eyes and shota glance to the cartons uponcartons of Fly spray he had al-ready stockpiled in the pantry.
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Hmmm... Good idea Abby. I
wonder why I didnt think ofthat?
As he attempted to stand upfrom the table, Steves legsstarted tingling with pins andneedles.
Woah, how long have I beensitting at the table for?
He looked up to the kitchenclock and saw the big hand andthe little hand both facing up.
Jeepers, its lunchtime al-ready! That story went muchlonger than I thought it would.Abby! Come and help me mow
the lawn before your mum getshome.
Abby and Steve held hands
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walking down the steps of
the balcony into the backyardwith the sun shining on theirshoulders.
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V- V - V - V -V R O O O O O O O O MV-V-V-V-VROOOOM
Trampolines
Steve gave two swift pulls onthe choke of the lawnmower,
sounding exactly the same asthe farts he had just let out inthe kitchen.
Abby ran down to the tram-
poline and climbed on. Shedidnt jump up and downthough, she just lay at onher back, listening to the lawnmower and looking up to the
sky. She thought about Pat-rick being stuck up there in thecubes. If only those oating or-ange cubes were visible to the
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Human eye, people might think
twice about spraying Fly sprayall over the place.
She decided to play a littlegame. She closed her eyesand challenged herself to seehow many different soundsshe could hear. There was thelawnmower (that was an easyone), she could also hear herdads boots trudge through thegrass behind it. She kept lis-tening... harder... and the hard-er she tried, the more sounds
started popping into her ears.
She could hear Parakeets chirp-ing in the tree above her. Theymust have been babies scream-
ing for their mum to come andfeed them. She could hear hernext door neighbours Dog
barking at an unsuspectingpasser-by in the alley behind
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her house. She could hear a
Spider crawling along thesprings of the trampoline. Shecould hear a Lizard of somesort scurrying across the fence.
No, it was bigger than a Lizard.Maybe it was her pet GuineaPig. Either way it had tinny lit-tle feet. Abby started thinkingto herself out loud.
I wonder if all those animalsare friends. I bet they are. I betthey all talk about Patrick too.I bet they tell stories to each
other about Colonel Mustardsbravery and Pengitas party.Oh, how I wish they could talkto me.
The sound of the lawn mowersuddenly stopped. Abby rolledover and saw her dad takingoff his safety goggles.
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HEY DAD. CAN YOU
COME AND TEACH MEHOW TO DO A DOUBLEBOUNCE?
Steve walked down to thetrampoline grinning. If Abbywas old enough to hear thestory about Patrick the Cicada,she was denitely old enoughto learn how to double bounceon a trampoline. There really issomething universally bindingabout trampolines isnt there?
No matter how old you are,
where you come from or evenwhat species you are, everyonecan enjoy a good old fashioned
bounce on a trampoline. Stevethrew one leg up over the top
of the bar and climbed up gin-gerly.
Alright sweet pea. The way
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this is going to work is, you
jump and then just beforeyoure about to land, Ill doa little jump and land beforeyou land. So when you bouncefor the second time, you willgo super high. Do you thinkyoure ready?
Im ready, dad.
Abbys eyes sparkled orangein the sunlight and her blonde
ponytail waved in the gentleafternoon breeze. The red lump
on her forehead had now allbut disappeared. Steve stead-ied his legs and concentratedon his bouncing rhythm.
Okay, Abby. Lets see if youcan y.
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the end
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Fun Facts
The rst ever televisionsarrived in Australia in1956, during the MelbourneOlympics.
The rst ever televisioncommercial was for MorteinFly Spray.
Spiders have eight legs andeight eyes.
Cicadas live underground foryears before coming up toannoy us in Summer.
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The Author
Rob Towner lives in New-castle Australia with his wifeCourtney.
He is the Secretary for theNewcastle Sub-branch of theCBCA, a role model for BooksIn Homes Australia, a memberof SCBWI and a member of
The Hunter Writers Centre.
To get in contact visithttp://robt.info/
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The extraordinary tale
of an ordinary Cicada.Wait.... What?