Part 1 of -- Plushie to the Rescue; in the name of Christmas!
After twelve very long months of waiting, December had come once more -- hurrah! December was Plushie's most favorite month; t'was the Christmas season and the town was ablaze with brilliant, colorful lights, while soft snow flurried from the sky and topped buildings and trees, and painted the ground like powder on a freshly baked cake. It was a delicious sight! Men and women all around had gotten into the Christmas spirit; a merry "happy Christmas to you mum!" or "jolly wishes good sir!" was never far from the ear. Neighbors were neighbors once more! Long forgotten was the "who had the better lawn" competition, and the annoyance of having one's newspaper stolen, and even the busy-bodies had left behind their idle gossip in favor of showing good cheer to their fellow neighbors. December was a wonderful month!
This December was different than the last, though... there had been reports lately of sugary treats disappearing from the shelves, and even from people's homes! Just yesterday, old Mrs. Kimmel had been telling her knitting club that all of her cookie ingredients had been swiped from her pantry! Mr. Fisher, the grocery store manager, shared a similar story at the town meeting; all of his cookie mixes and boxed cookies had been stolen in the night! There was something rotten in the crisp December air, and Plushie was determined to find out what it was! She ventured off one afternoon to visit Rina, one of the town's most prominent shop keepers, who everyone knew sold some of the best sweets and treats.
Frolicking through the falling snow, our blue-haired heroine made her way to the Buttercup Cafe to meet with Rina. Spotting the hard-at-work treat-maker, Plushie waved, hopping up towards the counter.
"Hi, Rina!" She said happily (Rina was one of her favorite shop-keepers).
The other straightened from below the counter, a tray of freshly baked pies in her mitted-hands. The sight was a relief to Plushie; Rina had not experienced any sweet-thievery! Perhaps there was nothing to worry about. The look on her face, however, told a different story. Normally happy-go-lucky and sweeter than her treats, Rina appeared worrisome and anxious.
Plushie hopped onto the counter and sat, peering over at the utter mess that was the kitchen -- it looked as if a tropical storm had hit it!
"Oh Rina, what happened? Is everything alright?" She asked, her concern rising as she watched her friend busy about in an almost frantic manner.
Dropping the tray on the counter and working to cut each pie into even slices, Rina shook her head. "No, no, no it isn't alright. This is the fourth batch of pies that I've had to make! The other three went missing!"
Oh no! It seemed as if even Rina was suffering from this disappearing act! Plushie caught her crown; leaning over to inspect the kitchen had almost caused it to fall off. "What happened to your other three batches? Did you see anything?" She asked.
Rina shook her head once more, simultaneously cutting, plating, and packaging slices of various pies, some of which Plushie was able to recognize by sight and scent -- there was apple, pumpkin, chocolate mousse, and banana cream. "I don't know. I just don't know. I had set them to bake in the oven and had gotten a phone call. Though when I answered, no one was there. When I came out from the office, the oven door was open, and the pies were gone!" She said with a tone of frustration and bewilderment.
"Hmm... if the oven door was open, then it means someone took Rina's pies..." Thought Plushie. "Listen honey, I don't mean to be rude, but I have so many more pies to bake before the day is up. People will be coming in a few hours to get their Christmas pies and treats for Santa." Rina continued, barely looking up from her work. Plushie wished her a good day and hopped off the counter, wandering away from the Buttercup Cafe, her mind racing and puzzled.
Mrs. Kimmel lost her cookie ingredients, Mr. Fisher had lost his cookie mixes and boxed cookies, and now Rina had lost several batches of pies and who knows what else. This was no disappearing act... someone was stealing Christmas treats! In the name of Christmas... this mystery had to be solved! Plushie knew just who to ask... someone no one would think twice about hiding from, because well... most people overlooked him. She hurried down the street towards the only alley in town and, as she expected, Pete was rummaging around in one of the dumpsters... his only slipper dangling off his foot as he kicked his legs about.
Slipping to the other side of the dumpster, out of sight from the main road, Plushie scrunched her face up a moment -- the smell was gross. She knocked on the side of the dumpster, "Pete... I need a word with you." She whispered, afraid someone might be listening in. The thin man fell into the dumpster, slowly popping his head out and peering around; he too seemed to want privacy for this discussion. "I found a pair of sunglasses!" He exclaimed in a hushed whisper, holding out a pair of black sunglasses -- one of the lenses was missing, and the other was cracked. He put them on, obviously quite pleased with his new dashing appearance.
"Pete... this is very important." Plushie insisted, gazing around the alley. "Have you noticed anyone sneaking around, taking cookies and pies and cakes, and other Christmas sweets?" Pete seemed to forget about his new sunglasses; his expression became "covert" as he too glanced around. Leaning over the edge of the dumpster, he responded, "He's been sneaking around at night... or else he uses some made up story to hoodwink folks out of their sweets. He's got himself an army... a whole army of sweet-thieves.. calls 'em the Zero Bot Army..."
Plushie listened intently, taking in this new information. An army designed to steal treats? "Why is he doing this...? I mean... why does he want everyone's sweets?" She asked, doing her best not to wrinkle her nose from the dumpster's smell -- Pete would be offended. Pete looked around once more, and the girl mimicked his actions. "Some time ago, this Zero Omega, as his name is, he used to work at this place, see, and his coworkers... they pied him, right in his face. That didn't sit well with ol' Zero Omega... so he vowed that he'd have his revenge. He don't want Gaia to have a Christmas. Think about it.. if Santa has no cookies and pies and treats.. he can't deliver no presents."
Oh my goodness! This was more serious than she knew! Zero Omega wanted to destroy Christmas! Pete abruptly ended their meeting by disappearing back into the dumpster, a moment later crying out his excitement of finding crumpled xerox paper. Plushie walked from the alley in a daze -- someone was trying to ruin Christmas... wonderful Christmas. How could anyone be so heartless? She had to save Christmas... she had to! But... how?
After twelve very long months of waiting, December had come once more -- hurrah! December was Plushie's most favorite month; t'was the Christmas season and the town was ablaze with brilliant, colorful lights, while soft snow flurried from the sky and topped buildings and trees, and painted the ground like powder on a freshly baked cake. It was a delicious sight! Men and women all around had gotten into the Christmas spirit; a merry "happy Christmas to you mum!" or "jolly wishes good sir!" was never far from the ear. Neighbors were neighbors once more! Long forgotten was the "who had the better lawn" competition, and the annoyance of having one's newspaper stolen, and even the busy-bodies had left behind their idle gossip in favor of showing good cheer to their fellow neighbors. December was a wonderful month!
This December was different than the last, though... there had been reports lately of sugary treats disappearing from the shelves, and even from people's homes! Just yesterday, old Mrs. Kimmel had been telling her knitting club that all of her cookie ingredients had been swiped from her pantry! Mr. Fisher, the grocery store manager, shared a similar story at the town meeting; all of his cookie mixes and boxed cookies had been stolen in the night! There was something rotten in the crisp December air, and Plushie was determined to find out what it was! She ventured off one afternoon to visit Rina, one of the town's most prominent shop keepers, who everyone knew sold some of the best sweets and treats.
Frolicking through the falling snow, our blue-haired heroine made her way to the Buttercup Cafe to meet with Rina. Spotting the hard-at-work treat-maker, Plushie waved, hopping up towards the counter.
"Hi, Rina!" She said happily (Rina was one of her favorite shop-keepers).
The other straightened from below the counter, a tray of freshly baked pies in her mitted-hands. The sight was a relief to Plushie; Rina had not experienced any sweet-thievery! Perhaps there was nothing to worry about. The look on her face, however, told a different story. Normally happy-go-lucky and sweeter than her treats, Rina appeared worrisome and anxious.
Plushie hopped onto the counter and sat, peering over at the utter mess that was the kitchen -- it looked as if a tropical storm had hit it!
"Oh Rina, what happened? Is everything alright?" She asked, her concern rising as she watched her friend busy about in an almost frantic manner.
Dropping the tray on the counter and working to cut each pie into even slices, Rina shook her head. "No, no, no it isn't alright. This is the fourth batch of pies that I've had to make! The other three went missing!"
Oh no! It seemed as if even Rina was suffering from this disappearing act! Plushie caught her crown; leaning over to inspect the kitchen had almost caused it to fall off. "What happened to your other three batches? Did you see anything?" She asked.
Rina shook her head once more, simultaneously cutting, plating, and packaging slices of various pies, some of which Plushie was able to recognize by sight and scent -- there was apple, pumpkin, chocolate mousse, and banana cream. "I don't know. I just don't know. I had set them to bake in the oven and had gotten a phone call. Though when I answered, no one was there. When I came out from the office, the oven door was open, and the pies were gone!" She said with a tone of frustration and bewilderment.
"Hmm... if the oven door was open, then it means someone took Rina's pies..." Thought Plushie. "Listen honey, I don't mean to be rude, but I have so many more pies to bake before the day is up. People will be coming in a few hours to get their Christmas pies and treats for Santa." Rina continued, barely looking up from her work. Plushie wished her a good day and hopped off the counter, wandering away from the Buttercup Cafe, her mind racing and puzzled.
Mrs. Kimmel lost her cookie ingredients, Mr. Fisher had lost his cookie mixes and boxed cookies, and now Rina had lost several batches of pies and who knows what else. This was no disappearing act... someone was stealing Christmas treats! In the name of Christmas... this mystery had to be solved! Plushie knew just who to ask... someone no one would think twice about hiding from, because well... most people overlooked him. She hurried down the street towards the only alley in town and, as she expected, Pete was rummaging around in one of the dumpsters... his only slipper dangling off his foot as he kicked his legs about.
Slipping to the other side of the dumpster, out of sight from the main road, Plushie scrunched her face up a moment -- the smell was gross. She knocked on the side of the dumpster, "Pete... I need a word with you." She whispered, afraid someone might be listening in. The thin man fell into the dumpster, slowly popping his head out and peering around; he too seemed to want privacy for this discussion. "I found a pair of sunglasses!" He exclaimed in a hushed whisper, holding out a pair of black sunglasses -- one of the lenses was missing, and the other was cracked. He put them on, obviously quite pleased with his new dashing appearance.
"Pete... this is very important." Plushie insisted, gazing around the alley. "Have you noticed anyone sneaking around, taking cookies and pies and cakes, and other Christmas sweets?" Pete seemed to forget about his new sunglasses; his expression became "covert" as he too glanced around. Leaning over the edge of the dumpster, he responded, "He's been sneaking around at night... or else he uses some made up story to hoodwink folks out of their sweets. He's got himself an army... a whole army of sweet-thieves.. calls 'em the Zero Bot Army..."
Plushie listened intently, taking in this new information. An army designed to steal treats? "Why is he doing this...? I mean... why does he want everyone's sweets?" She asked, doing her best not to wrinkle her nose from the dumpster's smell -- Pete would be offended. Pete looked around once more, and the girl mimicked his actions. "Some time ago, this Zero Omega, as his name is, he used to work at this place, see, and his coworkers... they pied him, right in his face. That didn't sit well with ol' Zero Omega... so he vowed that he'd have his revenge. He don't want Gaia to have a Christmas. Think about it.. if Santa has no cookies and pies and treats.. he can't deliver no presents."
Oh my goodness! This was more serious than she knew! Zero Omega wanted to destroy Christmas! Pete abruptly ended their meeting by disappearing back into the dumpster, a moment later crying out his excitement of finding crumpled xerox paper. Plushie walked from the alley in a daze -- someone was trying to ruin Christmas... wonderful Christmas. How could anyone be so heartless? She had to save Christmas... she had to! But... how?
