then there was that huge kettle far below...

They had never warned her about people-eating pygmies in business school. “Superior business sense can be dangerous,” she shakily murmured under her breath.

The pygmy warrior forced the pig down the slide-like nose of the statue. Squealing, the large porker tumbled into the water-filled kettle below.

“That’s better,” Rebecca said nervously, hoping that she wasn’t to meet the same fate as the pig. “Now, if you just...ah!” Without warning, the pygmy pushed her off the statue, and she fell pell-mell, head over heels, splashing into the kettle.

She surfaced, spluttering indignantly, “How dare you!” to the pygmies adding handfuls of truffles to the kettle. “Why, you little sawed-off...mmm-mmm!” A pygmy had stuffed a truffle in her mouth. Rebecca wrenched it out, saying dolefully, “Truffle stew, and I’m in it. Well, I said I’d find truffles, didn’t I? What a stupid idea.”

"Oink," said the pig while a pygmy added salt and pepper to the pot.

“Don’t rub it in,” Rebecca retorted to the pig. She continued, “Sometimes I just get a little stubborn, but I’ll never let it happen again. Ever!” She pounded the kettle’s lip with her fist for emphasis. Just then, she noticed that a pygmy was rubbing two sticks together in an attempt to light the firewood under the kettle, consequently, cooking her and the pig alive. “Ah! If there isan ever!” she shrieked.

Over on the far side of the village, beside the wall, a pair of pygmies set a table for the impending feast. Baloo reached through the hole in the wall, grabbed them by their headdresses, and yanked them over the wall. The disgruntled pygmies were quickly bound and gagged, striped of their garments, and hung upside down from a tree branch.

Baloo and Kit slipped the pygmy clothes on over their own.

“Well, whattaya think?” Baloo asked. On the large bear, the small pygmy clothes were an extremely tight fit. The grass skirt stretched across his ample stomach was straining at the seams.

“You’llnever make it as a pygmy pinup, Baloo,” Kit pointed out. “You’re too big.”

“Aw, don’t sweat it, Li’l Britches. No one’ll notice.” He confidently strolled out into the village and grabbed the first pygmy he saw by the hand. He twirled him like a top until the pygmy was dizzy. “May I have this dance?” Then, he started a conga line, singing, “A-doobie-doobie-do-bah. A-doobie-doobie-do-bah. C’mon, wallflowers, don’t be shy.”

“Follow da-da big one!” a pygmy told Kit.

One by one, the pygmies joined the conga line until almost all of them were dancing behind Baloo, saying, “Oogachaka oo-bah. Oogachaka oo-bah.”

For a few seconds, Kit watched the conga line. He was amazed at Baloo’s ability to turn any situation, no matter how perilous, into a party. Then, he remembered what the diversion was for. He hurried over to the kettle. “Psst! Miz Cunningham!”

“Kit? Is that you?” Rebecca whispered back, relieved.

“And Baloo.”

“Baloo?” Rebecca cried.

Hearing his name, Baloo waved at her from the conga line. He was really getting into the groove. Not only were the pygmies real party animals, they were mean bongo players.

“Miz Cunningham! Quiet!” Kit warned.

Rebecca crawled out of the kettle. “Right, right. Quiet as a mouse.”

The heavy pig crashed to the ground and shook itself like a dog.

“Just let me grab a few of those truffles.” She scurried back to the kettle to gather the prized, slightly soggy, mushroom delicacies.

Meanwhile, the pygmies had caught on that their sacrifice, not to mention their dinner, was escaping and that Baloo was awfully large for a pygmy. Fun and game time was over. It was back to being savages as usual.

Kit, seeing that the pygmies were no long dancing, tapped Rebecca on the leg to get her attention. “Miz Cunningham!”

“I mean at fifty dollars a truffle, we can still...” Kit tapped her more urgently. “Just a second.” She popped her head out of the kettle and looked over. Scared, she dropped the truffles.

They were once again surrounded by spear-wielding pygmies, and none of them looked happy.

“Uh, one more time?” Baloo said with a wan chuckle, his hands in the air. A pygmy stuck him in the backside with a spear, meaning for him to join the other hostages. “Wonderful, Rebecca. Simply wonderful,” he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. His diversion had worked, they had almost made it out, and then she had to go and blow it for some stupid truffles.

“I”m sorry. It was just an idea,” Rebecca said penitently. Then, her eyes lit up. “Wait! I have another idea.”

“Oh, great. How are ya gonna get rich now? Sellin’ these guys cookin’ utensils?” Baloo murmured cynically.

“No. The pig. The pig.” She pointed to the pig who was standing right in front of them.

“Oh, yeah,” Baloo said softly, an understanding smile creeping to his face. It frightened him that he was starting to think like his crazy boss, but it wasn’t half as scary as the pygmies and their spears.

“One,” Rebecca said.

“Two,” Baloo said.

“Three,” Rebecca said.

At the top of their voices, they yelled, “Bacon!”

Hearing the ‘B’ word, the pig reared on its hind legs, snarling and spitting. There was fire in its beady, black eyes.

“Ooo...sheema! Goombah!” the pygmies said in fearful awe. Translated, it meant: “Psychotic pig on the loose! Let’s get the heck outta here!”

As expected, the pig tore through the village, wreaking havoc.

While the pygmies were busy running for cover, Baloo, Kit, and Rebecca made their escape.

“Which way?” Rebecca asked as they sprinted into the pitch-black jungle.

“Away from here!” Baloo answered.

Zibaldo Border
Dawn

Like any other typical morning, the border guard clocked in. He had just gotten his yo-yo out of his lunch box when he heard a commotion behind him. Turning, he saw that it was the three bears and pig from yesterday. They were running as if their lives depended on it - which it did.

“Yeeooow!” Baloo screamed as he plowed over the guard and crossing gate with Rebecca, Kit, and the pig right behind him.

Rebecca panted, “We’re running! We’re running!”

The guard had just popped his head out of the soft earth, asking, “Hey, you three, wait a second! Where do you think you’re going?” when the entire pygmy tribe trampled over him, pressing him further into the ground. To add injury to insult, just when he was getting up a second time, the littlest pygmy hopped on his head. Bruised and battered, the guard decided that lying there for a while might not be such a bad idea.

Racing towards the dock, Baloo said, “If we can just make it to the Duck, we’ll fly outta here.”

Kit and the pig made it to the Sea Duck first. Standing on the edge of the dock, staring at the broken pontoon, the boy said, “Uh, Baloo...”

“Oh, no!” Rebecca gasped.

Heart racing, Baloo puffed, “I forgot. I forgot.”

“What are we gonna do now?” Kit asked.

Baloo said, “I don’t know, but we better think of somethin’ quick.”

All hurried to get aboard the Sea Duck. If nothing else, it would provide shelter from the pygmies and their spears.

The Sea Duck

Fifteen minutes later, the Sea Duck was soaring through the sparkling ocean on its way back to Cape Suzette.

“So where’re we goin’ to try to get rich tomorrow, boss lady?” Baloo teased. “Zambeezeee to catch rare fishies? Or maybe to the top of Mt. Neverrest for kumquats?”

Rebecca leaned wearily against the pilot’s seat. That had been one of the longest twenty-four hours of her life; she couldn’t believe that at this time yesterday, she had been dropping Molly off at the sitter’s. She murmured, “Nowhere.”

“Nowhere?” echoed Baloo with mock-shock. He winked surreptitiously at Kit in the co-pilot’s seat.

“Yes, nowhere,” Rebecca reiterated firmly. “Honest, Baloo, I’ve learned my lesson. I was just being too stubborn to admit I was wrong.”

“You might say you were being pigheaded.” Baloo laughed.

“Pigheaded,” Kit chuckled. “That’s a good one, Baloo.”

Rebecca laughed along with them. She thought that her flight crew deserved to say ‘I told you so’ after saving her from the pygmies. “Speaking of which, as soon as we get back, I’ll get a refund on the pig.” She could use the money for future moneymaking endeavors. In the back of her mind loomed A Million Ways to Make a Million Dollars. There was an idea about a gas station that had caught her eye.

Baloo grinned at her. “S’okay by me, but it seems a shame to give the pig up now. I mean, the Sea Duck’s flyin’ like a dream.”

As it turned out, the pig was exactly the right size and weight to be a pontoon. The porker was tied to the pontoon strut, enjoying the warm breeze blowing in its face. “Oink, oink,” it said happily.

The End

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Previous Page

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12