*A/N: So, I said I probably wouldn't write another WK story…yeah, I lied. I was yet again ambushed by a plotline early in the morning while half-asleep. Surprise! :D And this isn't supposed to be the most "canonical" WK story ever written. Pretty much just writing it for sheer goofiness' sake. And trust me, there will be much goofiness.

Chapter 1

Detour

"Man, I'm beat!" Chris flopped down in the tall grass under the shade of a scrubby tree.

Martin wiped the sweat off his forehead and sank down as well. "I hear ya, bro. Chasing after a pack of African wild dogs on a hunt can really take it out of a guy."

"So can tripping over your brother while he's on the ground trying to get footage of the chase."

Martin stuck out his tongue. "That was an accident and you know it."

Chris grinned and snorted, about to retort when his attention was snagged by something moving through the grass about twenty feet away. He sat up quickly, listening hard. They hadn't been paying much attention to their surroundings, which wasn't the smartest thing to do out on the savannah.

"Hey!" Chris whispered, looking over at his brother. "Did you hear that?"

Martin nodded and came over, keeping low to the ground. Both of them crouched behind the fringe of grass, trying to get a glimpse of whatever was sneaking around without exposing more than their eyes and the tops of their heads.

"What do you think it is?" asked Martin.

Chris shrugged. "Who knows? I just hope it's not hungry for 'Kratt brother'."

The weeds gave a rustle, causing them to jump a little.

"Heh-heh-heh!"

The two looked at each other, baffled.

"What's so funny?" Chris asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I didn't laugh… This is creepy. Let's get outta here!"

Before they could hightail it in the opposite direction, something white popped up out of the grass. Something wearing a chef's hat, carrying a bulging knapsack, and sporting a nasty grin.

"Gourmand!" The brothers said at the same time.

"He's captured an animal!" Martin said, starting forward. "We've got to stop him!"

"Wait!" Chris held him back as Gourmand turned and bounded off. "We can't just jump out and demand he let whatever's in the bag go."

"Why not?"

"That never works, remember? Let's follow him and go from there."

Twenty minutes later, after an exhausting trek filled with much ducking behind trees and diving into bushes to remain safely inconspicuous, Chris and Martin found themselves within view of Gourmand's temporary base. A large cargo plane with the back gaping open was sitting in a wide, treeless swatch of ground.

"A cargo plane?" Martin said, scratching his head. "Why would he need a cargo plane?"

They watched as the chef jogged up the ramp and disappeared into the back of the aircraft. A few minutes later, he came back out minus the knapsack. Looking pleased with himself, he struck up one of his repertoire of tunes about cooking wild and endangered animals and made his way to the front of the plane.

"Ok, now's our chance," said Chris, stepping out from behind the boulder they were hiding behind.

"We'll have to make this quick," added Martin.

The two of them crept forward on tip-toes until they reached the ramp. Then they sped up into the plane…and came to a complete standstill in total shock. Lining the walls of the cargo area and spread around the floor were cages upon cages of what looked like a good sampling of every species of animal on the planet. A few of them looked very familiar.

"Thornsley!" Chris gasped, stepping inside to get to the baby elephant standing in a cage. "And he's got Blur and her cub too!"

"I take it back," gulped Martin. "This rescue might take a while."

"Where do we even start?!" Chris asked, grabbing his hair.

"Good question. We're gonna need some serious backup for this one." He reached for his creature pod, but at that moment, the horribly off-key strains of Gourmand's song floated to their ears again. "Oh no! He's on his way back!"

Without a moment's hesitation, they dashed passed the captive animals and into the deepest, darkest corner they could find. But it wasn't going to be good enough.

"Now what?" asked Chris, looking around desperately.

Martin held up the answer: a large, black canvas tarp. "Look what I found!"

"Great! Camouflage! He'll never see us in the dark now." Chris grabbed a corner to help Martin as he threw it over themselves. Thankfully, a small hole in the thick fabric allowed them to peek out from inside it. Just as they got situated, Gourmand entered the cargo area holding a pencil and notepad. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

"Aaahhh," he sighed. "I just love the smell o' wildlife waitin' to be cooked up and served to high payin' customers! Now, all I need t'do before takeoff is make sure I got what I need for the African Savannah Buffet Bar. Hmm…"

Chris and Martin's jaws dropped as the chef crossed the room and turned around to observe his massive haul. They held their breath as he glanced at his notepad and backed up, coming closer and closer. He only stopped when his heel came down right on top of one of Chris's partially exposed feet.

"AAmmf—"

"Shhh!" Martin quickly clamped a hand over Chris's mouth, muffling his sharp yelp of pain.

Fortunately for them, Gourmand was too absorbed in his list to hear anything out of the ordinary, but unfortunately for Chris, he showed no signs of moving any time soon.

"Hmm, lemme see," he said, glancing around his cargo room full of animals. His pencil scratched on the surface of the paper as he checked his list. "Ostrich eggs for my soufflés and savory omelets, cheetahs for a delicious quiche, one baby elephant for a batch of 'elephant hors d' oeuvres', leopards for 'leopard pies'…" The list went on for several more minutes before Gourmand tossed the notepad aside and rubbed his hands together. "Mmm-mm! This is gonna be my best banquet spread yet!"

Banquet?! Martin mouthed to his brother in horror.

With a cackle, Gourmand finally got off Chris's foot and dashed out of the cargo area. Martin made sure to keep his hand firmly over Chris's mouth until he was sure the chef was well out of hearing range. As soon as he let him go, Chris went berserk.

"AAAGH!" he shrieked, grabbing his foot and hopping around. "OW! OW-OW-OW-OW-OWWWWW—Whoa!" Losing his balance, he smacked right into his unprepared brother.

"AAACK!"

The two of them toppled over in a tangle of tarp, after which it took them at least five more minutes of squawking and wriggling to finally free themselves.

"Whoo!" Martin huffed as he crawled out from under their former hiding spot. "That was intense."

"Tell me about it," Chris grumbled. "Gourmand's not exactly the lightest guy around…" he trailed off. "Wait a second. Does it seem like it just got a lot darker in here?"

Martin's eyes darted around the room a few times. "Ummm…yeah—OH NO!" He shot up from the ground and ran past the animals in the cages to the now closed door of the cargo area. Skidding to a stop, he banged on the thick metal a few times, but it was no use. "We're trapped! Wherever Gourmand's going, we're going there too!"

"Which is really, really bad."

Martin turned to find his brother staring wide-eyed at a piece of paper in his hands. "What's that?"

Chris held it up. "This was tucked inside the notepad. It's…it's an invitation to an annual international convention of villains…the biggest one in the world!"