Read the book: «Penguin Pandemonium - Christmas Crackers»

t was almost Christmas and when the penguins woke at City Zoo, their enclosure looked like a winter wonderland. The snow was so thick it had drifted against Rory the rockhopper’s hutch door and he was struggling to open it. Luckily his best friend, Blue, the fairy penguin, was passing by when she heard his cry for help.

“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.