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years ago? He’ll never make General, but I will. And no one can stop me from getting there, not the Thembrian Air Force or Shere Khan or you.”
He suddenly jerked the Seafarer to the right, thereby slamming his starboard wing down on the port wing of the Thembrian plane, sending it spiraling away.
“So long, sucker!” Conrad said, waving at the departing Thembrian plane. “Where was I? Oh, yeah, starting this shindig with a bang,” he chuckled.
The colonel jumped, banging his head on the top of the window frame, when Baloo’s voice once again came over the radio.
“But what about all those lives, all those families, this war’s gonna wreck just so’s you can have one more medal?”
Looking up, Col. Conrad could see the grey underbelly of the hulking Thembrian craft, flying parallel with his own plane.
“So a few nobodies kick the bucket,” Conrad said with an unconcerned shrug of his broad shoulders. “Big deal. That’s what war’s all about. Besides, my family, Rebecca, Kurt, and Holly…“
“Kit and Molly,” Baloo corrected angrily.
Col. Conrad continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “…will bask in my shared glory when I’m elected President, and it’ll all happen because I kept the world safe for truth, justice, and the capitalistic way. That’s my job as Usland’s biggest hero and the world’s best pilot.”
Without further ado, he pulled the grenade’s pin and let it drop.
“We’ll just see about that.” Baloo’s jaw was set in a grim line as he pushed the stick forward, putting the flying fortress into a sharp dive. In the process, his plane purposely clipped the nose of the much lighter Seafarer, thus making it spin forward on its lateral axis, tumbling tail section over nose.
Baloo thrust the throttle up as high as it would go and muttered to himself, “This is co-co-nuts, but I gotta catch that live pineapple if it’s the last thing I do.” As the airplane started to shake violently under the strain and a few loose bolts rattled past his feet, he gulped. “What if it is the last thing I do?”
The grenade whistled through the air, gaining momentum as it fell towards the crowd gathered on the balcony.
Meanwhile…
Just Below…
According to the High Marshall’s assistant’s very accurate pocket watch, the 24-hour grace period that they had given Usland to return their stolen goods had expired. The High Marshall rose from his throne-like chair, roughly shoved both the assistant and his pocket watch aside, and slowly lumbered to the microphone. In his deep gravelly voice, he began, “Glorious People of Thembria…”
Meanwhile...
All over the world, people were glued to their radios, nervously awaiting the announcement. Including…
Wildcat, Kit, and Molly at Higher for Hire…
Shere Khan at Khan Towers...
Louie, the crew of simian waiters, and the pilot patrons at Louie’s Place...
All the military personnel – both Uslandian and Thembrian – at their respective military outposts…
But none listened as closely or as eagerly as the diminutive Col. Spigot.
In fact, he was so absorbed in the High Marshall’s speech that he didn’t notice the airplane bearing down on him until the propwash sent his helmet sailing over the balcony.
Baloo could hear the screams of the terrified Thembrians as his outstretched fingers finally folded over the grenade. He yanked back on the stick with all his might, missing the panicking people, but carving a few holes in the top of the long government building as the potbellied plane skipped across it.
“Spectacular stunt, my friend,” Col. Conrad sneered over the radio, “but you’re too late! The High Marshall’s already declared war, and since you’re a Thembrian and I’m an Uslandian…” With an evil grin, he pulled in behind the flying fortress and opened fire.
“I ain’t got no time for your half-baked ideas, Connie.” Frowning, Baloo flipped off the radio. “I’ve gotta ditch this hot potato!”
Mindless of the flak that harmlessly bounced off of the back of the solidly-built bomber, Baloo made a beeline for the only place safe enough to drop the grenade – Mustgo Lake.
“It’s the wind up, and the pitch…” As Baloo soared over the half-icy waters, he threw the grenade as hard as he could, pulled back the stick, and climbed straight towards the clouds.
KABOOM! The grenade exploded as soon as it touched the surface of the lake.
Like a powerful geyser, water sprayed upward, coating the Seafarer. Immediately, the white-trimmed navy plane iced over, its engines and propellers becoming scarily silent.
“Ahhhh!” Col. Conrad screamed as his plane dropped like a rock, plowing into the nearby Ministry of Lawn Ornaments building. All sorts of goods flew in the air, unearthed by the crash.
A moment later, Conrad dizzily stuck his head out of the mound consisting of everything from canned food to kitchen sinks. He sneezed a pair of chinchilla earmuffs off of his nose.
“Looks like your diplomatic immunity just caught a cold, Connie.” Baloo chuckled derisively as he pulled the ambassador out of the pile by the scruff of his neck.
The two bears were suddenly surrounded by Thembrians.
“Why, what can this be?” Baloo said innocently. “The Glorious People’s stolen goods! It looks like they’re all here, but they have been damaged by this Uslandian swine.” He gave Conrad a little shake.
All accusing eyes fell on Col. Conrad.
Then, the crowd cleared a path for their Fearless Leader, followed closely by his faithful assistant. The High Marshall calmly surveyed the situation from beneath his heavily-lidded eyes. Apathetically, he said, “If the goods have been found, the war is cancelled. I’m going ice fishing.”
En masse, the Thembrian people droned, “Yay.” A few waved their flags half-heartedly. Immediately, the crowd dispersed as the Glorious People went back to their homes and places of work before they were shot for loitering.
“No war?” Col. Spigot’s expression drooped.
Rebecca jogged over, followed by Sgt. Dunder, who had a bandage wrapped around his nose. “Here’s your helmet, Col. Spigot, sir.”
Spigot seized his slightly dented helmet and plunked it on his head. Furious that there wasn’t going to be a war and he wasn’t going to get the chance to be a war hero again, he ordered, “Seize this man and confiscate his property!”
Immediately, two burly guards were on either side of Col. Conrad, who pointed to the ambassador’s seal on his sleeve. Confidently, he said, “I have diplomatic immunity, so you can’t touch me!”
Baloo ripped the seal off Conrad’s sleeve. “Oops,” he said with a saccharine-sweet smile.
With one snap of Spigot’s fingers, the guards picked the former ambassador up, flipped him upside down, and shook him. When his pockets were empty they dropped him on his curly blond head.
“Ouch! You can’t do this to me! How dare ya’ll treat me like this! I’m Col. Conrad.”
One guard growled, “Never heard of you.”
“Everyone’s heard of me!” As Col. Conrad was hauled away to jail, with Col. Spigot leading the way, all his dignity and charm disappeared. Instead, the ‘world’s biggest hero’ blubbered like a baby. “It ain’t fair! It ain’t fair!”
Baloo called after him, “If you’re a good boy, Connie, your prison cell won’t be too big or too small, but just right.”
Dunder said, “Thank you for helping us stop the war, Mr. Baloo.”
“No sweat, Dundee. It wasn’t a total loss.” The big bear tossed the diamond ring up in the air and caught it.
“What are you going to do with that?” Rebecca asked anxiously. “It’s worth $50,000.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, immediately sorry that she had mentioned its worth.
“Fifty grand, huh?” Baloo turned the ring over in his fingers for a while as if considering something. Then, he smiled to himself and gave it to the sergeant. “Here, Dundee, get some locks for those warehouses and hot water pipes for all the Glorious People.”
“Gee, thanks, Mr. Baloo. You’re a good comrade and the best fake Thembrian there ever was.”
“Fake Thembrian?” Baloo and Rebecca said simultaneously.
Shyly, Dunder admitted, “I accidentally on purpose made a clerical error on line 35 on page 26 of form TI-204. I figured you didn’t
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