The Great Fuzz Frenzy Read online

  The Great Fuzz Frenzy

  JANET STEVENS and SUSAN STEVENS CRUMMEL

  * * *

  * * *

  THE GREAT FUZZ FRENZY

  Written by

  JANET STEVENS and

  SUSAN STEVENS CRUMMEL

  Illustrated by

  JANET STEVENS

  Harcourt, Inc.

  Orlando Austin New York San Diego Toronto London

  * * *

  "Violet! No!"

  "WOOF!"

  Text copyright © 2005 by Janet Stevens and Susan Stevens Crummel

  Illustrations copyright © 2005 by Janet Stevens

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or

  transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy,

  recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission

  in writing from the publisher.

  Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be mailed

  to the following address: Permissions Department, Harcourt, Inc.,

  6277 Sea Harbor Drive, Orlando, Florida 32887-6777

  www.HarcourtBooks.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Stevens, Janet.

  The Great Fuzz Frenzy/written by Janet Stevens and Susan Stevens Crummel;

  illustrated by Janet Stevens,

  p. cm.

  Summary: When a tennis ball lands in a prairie-dog town, the residents

  find that their newfound frenzy for fuzz creates a fiasco.

  [I. Prairie dogs—Fiction. 2. Balls (Sporting goods)—Fiction.

  3. Greed—Fiction. 4. Humorous stories.]

  . Crummel, Susan Stevens. II. Title.

  P?7S84453Fu 2005

  [E]—dc22 2004022063

  ISBN 0-15-204626-7

  O H F

  Manufactured in China

  The Illustrations in this book were done in mixed media

  on watercolor paper.

  The display type was set in OPTIFantastik.

  The text type was set in OPTIMajerlrregular.

  Color separations by Colourscan Co. Pte. Ltd., Singapore

  Manufactured by South China Printing Company, Ltd., China

  This book was printed on totally chlorine-free Stora Enso Matte paper.

  Production supervision by Ginger Boyer

  Designed by Lydia D'moch

  * * *

  "Violet! where's the ball?"

  For my fellow fuzz-pickers:

  Ted, Lindsey,

  Dani, and Jackie

  —J. S.

  For my husband, Richard,

  who has laughed at my jokes

  for more than thirty years

  —S. S. C.

  Down it went.

  BOINK!

  BOINK!

  "Run for your life!"

  THUMP!

  THUMP!

  "Watch out below!"

  RUMBLE!

  RUMBLE!

  "HELP! HELP!"

  "HEEELLLP!"

  PLUNK.

  There it sat—perfectly still.

  The prairie dogs waited—perfectly still.

  Slowly they crept out.

  Inch by inch. Dog by dog.

  "What is it?"

  "A thing."

  "A good thing or a bad thing?"

  "A round thing."

  "A strange thing."

  "A scary thing."

  "What should we do?"

  "Don't touch it!"

  "Is it alive?"

  "Ssshhh!"

  "Stand back!" boomed a voice. "You act like gutless groundhogs—afraid of your own shadow!"

  "Oh no, it's Big Bark!"

  "Big Mouth is more like it."

  "He's the meanest dog around."

  "I thought he left town."

  "Well, I'm back," growled Big Bark. "So out of my way. Let me have a look."

  But before anyone could move, little Pip Squeak raced past Big Bark, reached out, and poked the big round thing.

  "Noooooo!" the crowd yelled.

  "It's fuzzy!" said Pip.

  "Oooooooh!" the crowd gasped.

  A tiny piece of fuzz was caught in Pip's claw, She looked at it. Turned it. Sniffed it. Then she put it on her head. "Look at me!"

  "Ahhhhhh!" the crowd sighed.

  "Quit hammin' it up, you half-pint hamster!" snarled Big Bark. "I'm in charge."

  But those prairie dogs didn't listen. They had to have fuzz.

  "I like it."

  "Me, too."

  "I want some."

  "Do you?"

  "Oh yes!"

  "So do I!"

  "So do we!"

  "So do they!"

  "Big Bark, move over!"

  "Get out of our way!"

  They charged past him and grabbed at the fuzz.

  The prairie dogs pulled it. Puffed it.

  Stretched it. Fluffed it.

  Tugged it. Twirled it.

  Spiked it. Swirled it.

  They fuzzed their ears, their heads, their noses.

  They fuzzed their feet, their tails, their toeses.

  Big Bark was beside himself. "Listen to me, you ridiculous rodents! Stop this fuzzy foolishness!"

  But those prairie dogs didn't listen.

  They were busy being hot dogs and silly dogs.

  Corny dogs and frilly dogs.

  Top dogs. Funny dogs.

  Superdogs. Bunny dogs.

  "You're all nuts, you squirrelly fuzz freaks!" yelled Big Bark, storming off.

  News of the fuzz spread from hole to hole. Burrow to burrow. Town to town.

  Soon prairie dogs from everywhere were coming to see that fuzz.

  They came, they saw, they picked.

  They twisted it. Braided it. Danced, and paraded it.

  It was a fuzz frenzy.

  A fuzz fiesta.

  A fuzz fandangle.

  The whole prairie was abuzz about fuzz.

  They picked and pruned and pulled and pinched.

  They pinched and pulled and pruned and picked.

  Until ... the fuzz ran out.

  That big round thing was fuzzless. Naked as a plucked chicken.

  Some prairie dogs got a lot of fuzz. Some got a little. Some got no fuzz at all—and they were mad.

  "Give me that fuzz!"

  "Why?"

  "Because."

  "It's my fuzz."

  "Well, it was!"

  "Get that fuzz!"

  "GET THAT FUZZ!"

  Pulling, grabbing, swiping, nabbing, poking, jabbing—it was war! War between the fuzzes and the fuzz-nots. Their peaceful town was a battleground.

  It was a fuzz fight.

  A fuzz feud.

  A fuzz fiasco.

  "I started this," moaned Pip Squeak. "I have to do something. Everyone! Stop! Stop fighting!"

  But those prairie dogs didn't listen. The battle raged on—friend against friend, cousin against cousin, dog against dog—until no one was left standing.

  They were pooped. Fuzzled out. Fast asleep.

  Hours later the prairie dogs began to stir.

  "Uh-oh!"

  "Where's the fuzz?"

  "I don't know!"

  "Where did it go?"

  "SOMEONE HAS STOLEN OUR FUZZ!" cried Pip Squeak.

  "Who did?"

  "He did!"

  "She did!"

  "You did!"

  "I DID!" barked a voice from above.

  "I STOLE THE FUZZ!"

  The prairie dogs froze. Then they raced up, up, up the long tunnel. There stood Big Bark, covered with fuzz from head to tail.

  "I'm king of the fuzz!" he snarled. "D
o you hear me? I'm king of the—"

  SWOOP!

  The sky went black.

  "What happened?"

  "Where's Big Bark?"

  "Look!"

  There he was, high above their heads, dangling from the talons of an eagle.

  "No more Big Bark!" the crowd cheered. "Yaaaaaay!"

  "Don't yaaaaaay! He's one of us!" yelled Pip. "We have to save him! How would you like to be Eagle's lunch?"

  "Noooooo!" the crowd yelled.

  "Big Bark, wiggle free!" the prairie dogs shouted.

  "Shake loose!"

  "Hurry!"

  "We'll catch you!"

  Big Bark twisted and turned, wormed and squirmed. At last he was free of the fuzz!

  "Yaaaaaay!" the crowd cheered.

  Big Bark fell faster and faster.

  "Noooooo!" Prairie dogs scattered.

  "Get back here!" yelled Pip. "Quick! Make a circle! Hold out your paws!" They ran left, then right, then left.

  PLOP!

  "You saved me!" Big Bark cried. "But I stole your fuzz! Now it's gone forever."

  "Good," said Pip Squeak. "Fuzz is trouble. Right?"

  "Yaaaaaay!" the crowd cheered. Friend hugged friend. Cousin hugged cousin. Dog hugged dog.

  "We don't need fuzz," said Pip. "But with Eagle around, we do need a watchdog with a big—"

  "BAAARRRK!" Big Bark rose up on his hind legs. "Eagle's back! BAAARRRK! This is not a test! BAAARRRK! All dogs below! BAAARRRK!"

  The prairie dogs raced down, down, down the long tunnel.

  "Whew! We made it!"

  "That was close!"

  "Three cheers for Big Bark, the best watchdog ever!"

  "YIP, YIP, YAAAAAAY! YIP, YIP, YAAAAAAY! YIP, YIP, YAAAAAAY!"

  "Just doing my job!" Big Bark smiled.

  "Are we ever getting tangled up with fuzz again?" cried Pip Squeak.

  "Noooooo!" the crowd yelled. "No more fuzz! No more fuzz!"

  And from that day forward, the prairie dogs lived happily—and fuzzlessly—ever after.

 

 

  Susan Stevens Crummel, The Great Fuzz Frenzy

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