Penguin Pandemonium - Christmas Crackers

For Kelly and Dan. Happy Christmas xx

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One: In the Bleak Midwinter

Chapter Two: Jingle Bells

Chapter Three: Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Chapter Four: We Wish You a Merry Christmas

Chapter Five: Bring Us Some Figgy Pudding

Chapter Six: Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Chapter Seven: Oh, Christmas Tree

Chapter Eight: Away in a Manger

Chapter Nine: Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Chapter Ten: The First Noel

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Copyright

About the Publisher

Looks: Rockhoppers have spiky yellow and black feathers on their heads that look like long eyebrows.

How big? 45 to 58 cm – about half the size of adult Emperor Penguins.

Favourite food: Shrimps.

Penguin party trick: Rockhopper Penguins love to burst from the water and land on the rocks with a belly flop.

Flipper fact: They hop from rock to rock, keeping both feet together, and can jump up to one and a half metres.

Looks: Fairy Penguins have blue feathers on their heads and backs, but have white bellies.

How big? 30 to 33 cm – the world’s smallest penguin.

Favourite food: Sardines and anchovies.

Penguin party trick: In the wild, Fairy Penguins are nocturnal so they only go on land at night (well past the Rockhoppers’ bedtime).

Flipper fact: The world’s smallest penguin – they are also known as the Little Penguin, or the Little Blue Penguin.

Looks: Emperor Penguins have black backs, white tummies and bright splashes of yellow and orange on their front and their ears. The chicks are fluffy and grey and their faces are white, not black.

How big?! Up to one metre tall – the world’s tallest and heaviest penguin (over three times as tall as Little Blue!).

Favourite food: Squid.

Penguin party trick: When an egg is laid, the male stands with the egg on his feet to keep it warm until it hatches (this can take up to nine weeks).

Flipper fact: Emperor Penguins can stay under water for nearly twenty minutes!

Looks: Chinstrap Penguins get their name from the small black band that runs under their chin.

How big? Up to 68 cm (twice as tall as Fairy Penguins).

Favourite food: Little shrimps called krill.

Penguin party trick: Chinstraps are also known as Stonecracker Penguins because their call is so harsh it sounds like it could break stones.

Flipper fact: Chinstraps are the most common type of penguin – there are about thirteen million of them in the world.

… Ahem, he’s a GOOSE!

“What’s up, Rory? Are you stuck?” she called.

“No, I’m just yelling for fun … Of course I’m stuck!” he wailed. “There seems to be something really heavy wedged against my door, like an elephant.”

“There was a record fall in the night,” said Blue.

Rory stopped yelling for a moment. “Of elephants?”

“Of snow, silly,” said Blue, trying to brush it away with her flippers. “It’s no good, I can’t shift it. I’ll have to go and borrow a shovel from Waldo. Wait there, Rory.”

“Like I’m going anywhere,” he sighed.

Blue waddled off as fast as she could in the direction of the chinstrap penguins. Waldo had a large collection of lost property that visitors had left at the zoo and, among the hats, spectacles, trolleys and trinkets, there were some tools that the workmen had left behind. There was bound to be something she could use to dig Rory out.

She had only got as far as Big Paulie’s Palace when she stumbled across Waldo and his friends, the Arty Party Penguins. They were trying to clear snow away from Paulie the boss’s front step. Unfortunately there was no shovel, so they had to make do with a trowel and a pogo stick that Wesley and Warren took turns on, jumping up and down to break the ice.

“That’s the way, boys!” said Waldo. “Imagine you’re astride a pneumatic drill.”

He waved cheerily at Paulie. The mighty emperor penguin was pacing up and down behind the palace window with his baby niece and nephew, Oo-Chi and Ku-chi, hanging off his flippers.

“Don’t worry, sir, we’ll soon have you out!” shouted Waldo.

“Dig faster!” mouthed Big Paulie. “These kids are doing my head in.”

Blue smiled. Paulie was the best boss the penguins could ever have. He’d been in charge since the day he arrived from the Antarctic and they all feared and respected him – all except for the emperor chicks, who never gave him a moment’s peace.

“Unky Pooey, uth wanth to go out-thide now!” squealed Oo-Chi.

“Me ith going to make a big fat thnowball,” cheeped Ku-Chi.

Just then, Warren did an extra hard bounce on the pogo stick, a big chunk of ice fell away from the door and, to Paulie’s great relief, he was free. His immediate concern was for the other penguins – were any of them trapped inside their hutches?

“We freed the fairy penguins earlier,” said Wesley. “We could hear Muriel screeching from the other side of the pool.”

“Rory is still trapped,” said Blue.

Waldo picked up his trowel. “I can’t bear to think of that sweet boy missing his breakfast squid,” he frowned. “Lead on, Miss Blue. Arty Party Penguins to the rescue!”

But, by the time they’d staggered back, Rory was waiting for them outside with his rockhopper mates, Eddie and Clive.

“Hey, Blue,” he grinned, “what took you so long?”

Blue looked around. There was no sign of a spade. “How did you escape, Rory?”

“Brolly power,” he said.

Eddie and Clive had managed to dig him out with the pointy end of an umbrella that they’d borrowed from the brown bears who overlooked the penguin pool. As usual, the bears insisted on taking all the credit.

“If it hadn’t been for our umbrella, Rory would have missed lunch as well as breakfast,” growled Orson.

“I hope the spokes aren’t damaged,” added Ursie. “We need it for our dance routine. We’ve come up with a new one for Christmas and it goes like this: a-one, two, three, four …”

He grabbed Orson by the paw, did a ridiculously high kick – and fell over on the ice, pulling the other bear on top of him.

“Honestly, you two. Get married!” cackled a familiar voice.

It was Muriel with the two faithful members of her girly gang, Hatty and Brenda. The bears leapt up and brushed themselves off.

Waldo put his flippers on his hips and looked Muriel up and down. “You shouldn’t tease them,” he said. “It’s the season of goodwill. If the bears want to hug each other, that’s lovely.”

“We were not hugging!” insisted Orson, waving his paws in the air. “We were just dancing and we slipped.”

“Yeah, right. I know a hug when I see one,” chortled Muriel, tapping her beak. “And I know another secret, don’t I, Hatty and Brenda? Go on, tell Rory and Bloop!”

Hatty and Brenda shuffled nervously. They weren’t sure of the answer and, if they got it wrong, there was a good chance that Muriel would shout at them.

She tapped her webbed toes impatiently and glared at them. “Hatty and Brenda, tell Bloop and Rory our secret!”

“That you’re in love with Warren?” blurted Hatty.

“And you think he’s cuddly?” added Brenda.

Muriel blushed and put her head under her flipper.

“No, I’m not! No, I don’t!” she fibbed as Warren sidled off and hid behind a bush. “I meant the other secret … about Santa’s Grotty.”

Blue looked at her sideways. “What’s … a grotty?”

“She means Santa’s Grotto,” said Brenda, waving a leaflet about Christmas at City Zoo that had blown into the penguin pool. “Someone has built a funny shed thing near our enclosure – there’s a photo of it here, see?”

She tapped the leaflet and Rory peered at it quizzically. “When did this happen?”

“The builders were banging about all morning,” interrupted Ursie. “You wouldn’t have heard it because you were snowbound in your hutch, but we can see it all from here.”

“If you don’t believe us, have a peek through your viewing grille,” said Orson.

All the penguins waddled over, pressed their beaks to the little opening in the wall of their enclosure and gazed in amazement at the wooden chalet covered in fairy lights.

“So sparkly!” sighed Hatty.

“So twinkly!” twittered Brenda.

“So what’s it for?” asked Blue.

“Ask Miss Brainstorm,” said Muriel, clapping her flippers to get Brenda’s attention. “Brenda, you like showing off your reading skills. Tell Bloop what it says about Santa’s Grotty in that leaflet.”

“It’s Grotto,” said Hatty.

“Like you can spell,” snorted Muriel.

Brenda cleared her beak and used the tip of it to follow the words. “It says that someone called Santa is coming here.”

“Who’s Santa?” asked Blue. “Do you know, Rory?”

Before Rory could answer, Ursie’s paw shot up. “Ooh … I know, I know! He’s a chubby bloke with a long white beard. When we were cubs, we spent Christmas at the zookeeper’s house and we saw him, didn’t we, Orson?”

Orson put his chin in his paws and thought back. “Ah yes, happy days,” he sighed. “The smell of the turkey … the Christmas tree … the kids hanging up their stockings on Christmas Eve. If they were good, Santa brought them presents—Lordy, here he comes now! He’s in the penguin enclosure!”

Muriel whisked round and saw a portly figure trudging towards them through the snow. “Santa!” she squealed. “I’ve been a good penguin. Give me a present!”

But it wasn’t Santa, it was Big Paulie. “Do I look like a fat guy with facial hair?” he grunted.

It was an easy mistake to make in the dim winter light. Paulie was the biggest penguin in the pool and he was carrying the chicks, so, from a distance, their fluffy feathers looked like a white beard.

Blue gave a small sigh. “Oh. I really hoped it was You Know Who, didn’t you, Rory?” she whispered.

Rory nodded. “Yeah. Oh well, maybe Santa will come next year.”

Big Paulie shook his beak and frowned. “Don’t get your hopes up, my little friend. Santa never visits the likes of us.”

Muriel pulled a face and stamped her foot in the snow. “Why not? I want a Christmas present!” she sulked.

Big Paulie held out his flippers and did his best to explain. “Muriel, the giving of gifts is a human tradition. Every Christmas, Santa comes all the way from the North Pole to visit City Zoo to give out presents, but they’re just for the children, not the animals.”

“That is tho mean, Unky Pooey!” squealed Oo-Chi, tweaking her uncle’s head feathers.

“Unky Pooey, why doethn’t Thanta like penguinth?” wailed Ku-Chi. “Why-why-why?”

Big Paulie counted patiently to ten and put the chicks down. “I don’t make the Christmas rules—Ouch!”

“Ha ha! Got you in the botty with a thnowball!” shrieked Oo-Chi.

Trying to keep his dignity, Paulie shook one leg, then the other, to shake the ice off his tail, and almost slipped. Rory grabbed him by the flippers to steady him.

“I’m fine,” insisted Paulie. “Just practising the snow dance Orson taught me.”

“I recognised it straight away,” said Rory, trying not to laugh. “Paulie, can I ask you something?”

The emperor penguin regained his balance. “As long as it’s not personal. I’m a very private penguin. Whaddya want to know?”

“It’s about Santa,” said Rory.

Paulie let out a long groan. “Santa again already?”

Paulie clearly wasn’t in the best of moods and Rory was just beginning to think that maybe he should stop asking questions, when Blue butted in.

“We just want to know why we’ve never seen Santa’s Grotto before if he comes here every year,” she blurted. “Don’t we, Rory?”

Paulie waved a dismissive flipper. “It’s usually over by the reindeer paddock,” he said, whisking round as one of the chicks crept up behind him. “No! Don’t do you dare throw that snowball at me, Ku-Chi—Ow! That’s it! I’m taking you back to your mother!”

He grabbed the chicks and turned to go, when Muriel kicked off again.

“It’s not fair! We want presents, don’t we, Hatty and Brenda?”

“We want bobble hats!” said Brenda.

“We want hamsters!” said Hatty.

Even Rory got caught up in the excitement. He only wanted a small gift, but to a penguin who lived to do stunts, it would be a dream come true.

“And I’d really like a set of sparkly wheels for my skateboard!” he whooped.

Paulie looked over his shoulder and fixed him with his beady eyes. “We’re penguins,” he said as he waddled away, “and penguins do not celebrate Christmas.”

“We’ll see about that!” muttered Muriel.

“He’s here!” hollered Ursie. “Let’s show him our stockings – we might be in luck.”

“I don’t wear stockings,” growled Orson. “Keep your voice down.”

The penguins rushed over to the grille.

“Look at the reindeer,” remarked Clive.

“Rain, dear?” repeated Eddie. “I thought it was snow. Ursie, can I borrow your brolly?”

There was a long queue of children leading up to the grotto and, as Santa parked himself in a rocking chair, the first little girl went over and sat on his lap.

“And what would you like for Christmas, young lady?” he asked.

“A giraffe, please.”

Santa gave a small groan, fished about in his sack and gave her a thin, square parcel.

“It looks a bit flat for a giraffe, doesn’t it, Clive?” mumbled Eddie.

“That’s because it’s a colouring book,” said Clive, who was more interested in the elves. “Who are those little green dudes in the funny hats and curly shoes?”

Brenda looked it up in her leaflet about Christmas at City Zoo.

“They’re Santa’s little—”

“Aliens!” shouted Orson.

“Helpers!” said Brenda.

Ursie was confused.

“Santa’s little alien helpers? That’s just weird.”

“That’s Christmas for you,” said Orson.

But while everyone else was getting into the festive spirit, Muriel was getting angrier by the minute.

“Oh my cod!” she wailed. “Why is he giving those naughty kids presents and not us? Brenda, get a pencil and write a letter to Santa for me! OK, I want: bubble bath, leg warmers, pink fluffy mules …”

“Eek – got no pencil!” said Brenda anxiously.

“Um – got no paper,” said Hatty.

Rory grabbed his snowboard. “Muriel, you’re a penguin. Penguins don’t get presents, remember?” he said. “Come on, Blue, let’s show the visitors our crazy moves.”

Blue hesitated for a moment, mesmerised by the tinsel on the Christmas tree, then she went off with Rory and the rockhoppers to entertain the crowds with their daring stunts.

Having warmed up with a few beak-bonks against the enclosure wall and some impressive rodeo-flips off the diving board, Rory gathered his crew together.

“We’ve got a nice big audience,” he said, flipping his board with one foot. “Let’s wow them with a new twist on the tail-wheelie.”

“Like what?” said Clive.

“Like whoa!” said Eddie.

Rory jumped on his snowboard and raced over to the fake mountains. Where the snow had fallen on the rocks, it had created a set of steep steps – perfect for bouncing down from a great height.

“What we could do, which would be really exciting …” he began, but Blue had already read his mind and was halfway up the mountain.

“Yay! Tail-wheelies into staircase-jumps, right, Rory?”

“Right, Blue.”

Rory stepped aside and, as the crowd gasped at the speed and courage of the little blue fairy penguin bouncing perilously from ledge to ledge, Rory knew it was a brilliant move.

*

The next morning, Rory was woken at dawn by a loud rap on his hutch door. He yawned, got out of his nest and went to see who it was. He thought it might be Blue, but it wasn’t.

“Sorry to disturb you so early, dear boy,” said Waldo, “only, my pogo stick has gone missing. I wondered if you might have borrowed it.”

Rory shook his head. “Where did you leave it, Waldo?”

“Outside Paulie’s Palace,” he winced. “I asked if he’d taken it inside to have a little bounce, but he said no and told me to go away, very loudly. He was ever so grumpy.”

Paulie could be quite fierce at times – especially first thing in the morning; he wasn’t an early bird.

“I expect he just got out of the wrong side of the nest, Waldo,” said Rory. “Come on, I’ll help you look for your pogo stick. I bet the chicks have hidden it as a prank.”

But they hadn’t. Rory and Waldo had only got as far as the frozen pool when Ursie waved at them frantically from the tree in the bear paddock.

“Yoo hoo! There’s been a kerfuffle! Muriel’s gone over the top!”

Rory sighed. The bears were terrible stirrers. They were always spreading rumours, and nine times out of ten, they weren’t true.

“Muriel’s gone over the top of what?”

“The wall!” said Ursie. “I’m not even lying.”

Rory wasn’t so sure. “How on earth could she get over the wall on her own?”

Rory had been over the top a few times himself. It wasn’t too difficult if he formed a pyramid with the others, but it was far too high for a fairy penguin to climb on her own.

“But that’s just it – she wasn’t on her own. She was with Hatty and Brenda,” said Ursie, climbing down from the tree. “Back me up, Orson!”

Orson lumbered over to the barrier and leant over.

“They all bounced over together,” he said, “on a pogo stick. Boing, boing … wheee!”

Waldo clapped his flippers over his beak. “Boing, boing, wheee?”

“Actually, it was boing, boing, boing, wheee,” added Ursie. “There were three boings and a whee. Orson can’t count, which explains his bad dancing.”

As far as Rory was concerned, it didn’t matter how many boings there were. More to the point, where had Muriel and the girls gone – and why?

“Blue wasn’t with them, was she?” he asked.

“I’m here!” called Blue, skidding across the snow towards him. “Come quickly, Rory! Muriel’s done something really silly. We have to get her back before the zoo opens.”

She grabbed his flipper and they hurried over to the wall of the enclosure. The pogo stick lay in the snow where it had fallen.

“Where’s Muriel gone?” panted Rory.

Blue ran over to the viewing grille and pointed towards the grotto. “Look – there she is!”

Rory’s beak fell open. “I don’t believe it!”

Muriel was sitting in Santa’s sleigh with Brenda and Hatty, opening the presents in the sack.

“Nope, this one’s a toy soldier … don’t want that. Ooh, mittens!”

“Muriel!” yelled Blue. “What are you doing?”

Muriel whisked round and waved at her. “I’m doing Christmas! I’ve got all sorts of lovely presents: mittens, muffs—Oh, here’s something for you, Bloop. It’s bubble bath. Believe me, you need it.”

“Muriel, you have to get out of there now!” said Rory. “The zoo’s about to open. If you get caught, goodness knows what the keeper will do with you, let alone Paulie!”