Master Wildcat

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Higher for Hire

One fine afternoon in the tropical city of Cape Suzette, Molly Cunningham and Wildcat were rooting through the scrap pile behind Higher for Hire for a spare clinkenheimer part.

“This it?” asked the six-year-old yellow bear cub, Molly, holding up a cog.

“Nope,” answered Wildcat, a young lion clad in filthy, light blue overalls. “Keep searching, Mollycat.”

“How ‘bout this?” She showed him a rusty clamp.

“Uh-huh. That’s a doohickey. We’re looking for a curly, spring-sprongy thingy.”

Molly tossed it back, wiped her dirty paws on her blue overalls, and kept on digging.

The mechanic pulled out a spring with a beat-up lamp dangling from it. “Here it is, and it’s got a friend.”

“Wow! It looks like Aladdin’s lamp, Wildcat. Maybe there’s a magic genie in it.”

“Hey, yeah! Now, how do you get the genie out?” The lion peered into the spout. “Helloooooo? Anyone home?”

Molly giggled as Wildcat shook the lamp upside down. “That’s not how you do it. You have to rub it.”

“You mean it’s lonely? Guess I can give it a little pat.” He stroked one side. “Poor little thing. Uncle Wildcat will take care of you.”

With a weak puff of smoke, a miniature hippo no bigger than a furry appeared on top of the lamp. He was clad in a white shirt and shorts; he held a tennis racket.

“Wahahahahahahow!” cried Wildcat.

“Neato! Are you a magic genie?” said Molly excitedly.

“No, I live in a cramped lamp, because the rent’s so cheap. Of course I’m a genie, kid!” the tiny hippo snapped sarcastically in his high-pitched voice.

“Will you really grant us three wishes?” The little girl’s eyes sparkled in anticipation.

The genie waved his hand and a parchment appeared before him. “That’s what my union contract says.” He snapped his fingers, causing it to disappear. “Let’s hurry it up so I can get back to my tennis game. What do you want, master?”

“He means you, Wildcat. What do you want most in the whole wide world?”

“Aw...gee...um...” the mechanic stammered.

“Speed it up, slowpoke. Time’s a wasting.” The genie snapped his fingers impatiently, evaporating and reappearing each time he did so.

“Well, small person, before I get presents from you, I need to know your name and address so I know where to send the thank you notes,” said Wildcat politely.

“Okay, okay. Anything to get this show on the road. My name is Martin Q. Genie, Esquire, but my friends call my Marty. My address is this lamp. Let’s get on with it!”

“Is there any place you want to go, Wildcat?” asked Molly helpfully.

“Let’s see. I’ve already been to Mars and met Martians. Don’t have any guacamole to feed the Martians, so I don’t wanna go there again. Um...already met some nice dinosaurs... Hey! Do you know what would be super-duper right now?”

“What? What?” asked Molly, hopping up and down in excitement.

“A reaaaaaalllllly gigantic banana split with all the ice cream flavors in the world,” Wildcat replied with a grin.

“Yeah!” Molly agreed.

The genie tapped his foot restlessly. “Is that an official wish? Say the official phrase ‘I wish’.”

Wildcat nodded. “Marty, I wish I had the biggest banana split in the world.”

“Finally! Haven’t met anyone that took this much time to spit out a wish out since ever!” the genie muttered to himself. “One banana split coming up, or should I say, coming down.”

With a flick of his wrist, a huge bowl - large enough to house the Sea Duck- floated out of the sky and landed on the dock. The dock creaked under its weight. In the bowl was more ice cream than Molly or Wildcat had ever eaten in their entire lives - and that was quite a lot!

“Yummy!” cried Molly and Wildcat simultaneously.

“I’ll get some spoons.” Molly ran inside Higher for Hire to the kitchen.

Baloo, a large grey bear, was there, checking out the contents of the refrigerator. “Where ya runnin’ to with those spoons, Button-nose? Gonna play in the sand?”

She took a deep breath and began her spiel. “We were looking for a something-or-other in the scrap pile and Wildcat found a lamp and inside was a genie named Marty and he said he’d give Wildcat three wishes and Wildcat wished for a great big banana split and it’s here and I’m getting spoons so we can eat it before it melts all over.”

Patting her head, Baloo smiled down at her. “Sounds like a good make-believe game, Molly.”

“But it’s real, Baloo! Come see!” Taking his paw, she tugged him outside.

Baloo’s eyes grew as he gazed upon the awesome splendor of the ice cream confection. “Hey, hey! Now, that’s what I call a banana split! Pass Ol’ Baloo a spoon.”

“Great, another dumb big person,” scoffed Marty from his position on the edge of the ice cream bowl.

“Who’s the elf?” Baloo mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream.

“For your information, fatso, I am an all-powerful genie.” Marty poked Baloo’s stomach with his tiny spoon.

“Hoo-boy! That’s rich!” the pilot hooted, prompting a scowl from Marty.

Molly tugged on Baloo’s shirt. “It’s true, Baloo. He really is a genie.”

Wildcat nodded vigorously. “Yeah, man. He, like, made this ice cream appear out of somewhere.”

“Okay, mister all-powerful genie - if that’s who you are - I’d like a million shaboozies right here, right now,” requested Baloo.

“Sorry. No can do. Only the lion can wish for things. He’s the master of the lamp until he uses up all three wishes. Read the rules if you don’t believe me.” A long parchment unfurled before Baloo’s eyes.

“Aw, man,” groaned Baloo.

“What are you going to wish for next, Wildcat?” Molly said, licking her spoon. Ice cream dribbled down her chin.

“Uh...I don’t know. Already got everything I need: house, clothes, food, tools, friends. What would you wish for, Mollycat?”

“Me?” A crafty look flashed across Molly’s face. Her eyes shifted from Baloo to Higher for Hire where her mother was working.

Baloo, noticing it, became extremely nervous. “Whoa, doll! If I think what I think yer thinkin’, you’d better think of somethin’ else real fast. No way am I goin’ along with that!”

Molly clamped onto one of the pilot’s legs. Giving him her best wide-eyed cute look, she pleaded, “Doncha wanna be my daddy?”

Baloo gathered her in his arms, saying seriously, “Sure, Pigtails, but that ain’t the problem. Your mom an’ me...nuh-huh, never happenin’. Wouldn’t ya rather have a pony?”

Molly shook her head resolutely.

“Baloo! Get your tail in here pronto!” Rebecca shouted from the door.

Marty chuckled as the bearess yanked Baloo inside by his ear. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed the huge bowl of ice cream. “Making those two get along? That would be a wish worth fulfilling. Laughs galore.”

Just then, Kit, a thirteen-year-old brown bear cub, rode up on his bike. Unloading a sack of groceries from the basket, he said cheerfully, “Hi, guys. What’s going on?” Seeing the building-sized bowl of ice cream, he squeaked out, “Where’d this come from?”

Molly threw her arms around Kit, nearly knocking the sack from his arms. “Kit! Where have you been? You missed all the fun with the magic genie.”

“Magic genie!” In amazement, Kit stared at Marty, mouth agape.

Marty crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Kit. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to stare, kid?”

“Sorry. It’s not every day that I meet a genie, you know,” muttered Kit.

Wildcat turned to Kit. “What would you wish for if you could have anything in the world? I need some knits and other notions.”

Kit beamed. “That’s easy. My own plane.”

Wildcat thought for a second. “That’s a good wish, but the Sea Duck would be a smidgen jealous.”

The sound of Baloo and Rebecca’s arguing inside Higher for Hire grew louder.

Wildcat’s eyes brightened. “I just got this idea that’s, like, in my head. I wish for peace all over the world.”

Marty snapped the contract out. “Sorry, master. The contract states that wishes cannot affect the entire world.”

“Golly gee whizzity. I was sure that was a winner,” said a disappointed Wildcat. “But there’s always been one question that’s constantly bugged me, like, all the time.”

Everyone waited in anticipation.

“I wish to know how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop.”

“Huh?” cried Kit.

“The master has spoken. Let’s find out. What flavor do you all like?”

“Cherry!” exclaimed Molly.

“Raspberry!” replied Kit.

“Orange, ‘cause it’s just like eating a big juicy thing that’s round and orange.” A puzzled Wildcat tapped his temple with his forefinger. “What’s it called again?”

“An orange?” suggested Kit with a sheepish grin.

“That’s it!”

Kit and Molly shared a smile.

Magically, their favorite flavors appeared in their hands.

Marty commanded, “Unwrap Tootsie Pops! Tongues at the ready! And lick! One, two, three...”

The trio continued licking their suckers.

Marty droned, “Three hundred forty-four, three hundred forty-five, three hund...”

SLAM! The door of Higher for Hire banged shut as Baloo stormed out, causing everyone to chomp down on their sucker.

“Awwww!” groaned the cubs.

“Now, I’ll never know the answer to the world’s second most puzzling question,” lamented Wildcat, looking at his bare Tootsie Pop stick.

“What’s the first?” asked Molly curiously.

“Why do hot dogs come in packages of eight and hot dog buns come in packages of ten?”

“I can tell you the answer. It’s simple really,” began Marty.

“Baloo! You get back here, mister, on the double! BALOO!” Rebecca chased after the big bear, waving her clipboard.

Wildcat shook his head. “Those two will never learn to get along. Or a-short. Whichever comes first.”

Smirking, Marty crooked his little finger. “This one’s on the house, master. Time for serious fun and games.”

“Goody!” Molly

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