Wow! Thank you for the fantastic reviews! Brainy's always been my favorite Smurf, and I love his friendship with Clumsy so he'll have a pretty big role in this story too. For the purposes of this story, Brainy's attitude and friendship with Clumsy will be derived from "The Dark-Ness Monster" and "The Smurfiest of Friends" - two of my favorite Smurfs episodes.
Thanks again everyone, and I hope you enjoy this next part!
Part II
Harmony's trumpet bleated from the center of the village, honking out notes so sour the sound caused six of the breakfast dishes stacked at the top of the dirty pile to shatter. Responding to the call, Smurfs poured into the clearing from all directions, mumbling and moaning about the terrible racket. When enough Smurfs had gathered, Papa Smurf raised a hand for silence. As Harmony lowered his trumpet, the Smurfs breathed a collective sigh of relief, but Harmony took it as a sigh of contentment and graced them all with a dignified bow.
"Er, thank you, Harmony," Papa Smurf said, turning to address the group. "My little Smurfs," he began. "I know you're all very busy so I'll keep this announcement short. I'm going away for the day to collect glowberries with Grandpa Smurf, and we'll probably be back very late. I'm leaving Brainy in charge here while I'm gone. I want you all to spread the word among your fellow Smurfs and remember to mind Brainy as you would me." He glanced over to Brainy, who was standing beside him with his nose in the air and his chest puffed out like a pigeon's. "Well," he qualified, "within reason, of course."
"Aww," the Smurfs moaned.
"Yay!" Brainy's friend Clumsy clapped.
"Does it have to be Brainy, Papa Smurf?" Hefty wrinkled his nose. Brainy glowered at the muscular Smurf through his glasses.
"Now now, Hefty," Papa Smurf said. "Brainy and I have had a long talk, and I'm sure he'll act responsibly. Isn't that right, Brainy?"
"Of course, Papa Smurf!" Brainy simpered. "Ask any Smurf around and I'm sure they'll all tell you I am Mr. Responsibility."
"Uh, really?" Clumsy tilted his head. "Funny, I thought you were Brainy!"
Brainy rolled his eyes with a groan. Papa Smurf smiled, then looked up past the Smurfs' shaking heads to wave at a yellow-clad Smurf with a long, white beard who was beckoning to him from the edge of the village.
"We better get a move on, Papa, if we want to reach the cliffs by noon," the old Smurf called. "We're already runnin' a bit late."
"I'll be right there, Grandpa!" Papa Smurf called back, hefting his rucksack onto his back. "Good bye, my little Smurfs! Try not to get into any mischief while I'm away!"
"We will Papa Smurf," the Smurfs chorused.
"Have a good hike, Papa Smurf," Brainy added. "And don't you worry about a thing. The village is in safe hands with me in charge."
"I know it is, Brainy. Just don't neglect your book, now. Remember, I want to read it when I get back."
"I'll have it ready and waiting," Brainy assured him confidently. "Bye!"
"Bye! Bye!" the other Smurfs chorused, the group already starting to shrink as they headed back to their chores. Peeling away from the crowd, the four Smurflings huddled in the shade of a nearby mushroom house, their postures as slumped as their spirits.
"Babbling beavers, why does it have to be Brainy!" Sassette moaned. "This ruins everything!"
"It sure does," Slouchy scowled. "Our plan was for Sassette to get Papa Smurf to give us permission to pick wild smurfberries while the rest of us snuck into his lab to find his map to Father Time's cave. And it would have worked too. She's got him totally smurfed around her little finger! Not Brainy, though."
"Yeah," Sassette sighed. "Brainy's such a stickler for rules, he'll never let us go on our own!"
Snappy frowned a thoughtful frown, his sharp eyes fixed on Brainy's face as he talked with Clumsy on the other side of the clearing. "Hm… Maybe not," he said, motioning the others nearer. "I have an idea."
"Oh yeah? What kind of idea?" Slouchy asked.
Snappy's eyes took on a wicked gleam, and he smiled. "How are you guys at mimicking voices?" he asked.
"Mimicking voices?" Nat frowned.
"Yeah! Come closer and listen up." The Smurflings did, and Snappy whispered his plan into their ears. By the time he finished, all four of them were shaking with giggles.
"Wow, what a smurfy prank!" Slouchy grinned.
"Are you sure Brainy will fall for it, though?" Nat asked.
"Sure I'm sure," Snappy assured them. "Just leave the smurfing to me."
In his crumbling stone hovel at the edge of the forest, Gargamel woke with a start and immediately winced. Not only was the sun in his eyes, but the happy sound of birdsong was assaulting his ears.
"Yeech!" the cruel wizard scowled, calling to his cat as he slid out of bed to pull on his patched black rags and worn red shoes. "Just look at it out there, Azrael! It's so green and…ick…" he shuddered, "sunny. Just the sort of weather that would set those rotten blue Smurfs singing!"
"Mreah, mry mrow," Azrael yawned from his sunny spot, lazily stretching out his skinny body from his neck to the tip of his crooked, brown tail.
"It's not fair, Azrael, that spring should come so soon," Gargamel whined. "Why, it seems only yesterday the forest was barren and the snow was piled high. I could just picture those miserable Smurfs starving in their little village, freezing their tiny blue tails off!"
"Mrat mwas mrus," Azrael griped, thinking back on those bleak, hungry times with an uncomfortable shiver. But the failed wizard was still ranting and didn't notice.
"Oooh, what I wouldn't give to be able to hold back time—or even speed it up to next winter! Why I—wait a minute…" The balding wizard paused and rubbed his chin, his beady black eyes glittering. After a moment's deep thought, he snapped his fingers in triumph. "Ha—that's it!"
"Mwah?" Azrael questioned, the manic gleam in his wizard's eyes starting to make him nervous.
"Time travel, Azrael! The ultimate answer to all our Smurf-catching troubles!" Gargamel rubbed his hands together with a wicked grin. "Can't you picture it, Azrael! Why, if we could control Time, we would never again have to chase the Smurfs! We could hop backwards to where we know they'll be—or even hop forwards to get where they're going before they do! And then, with all the gold I'll make with my captured Smurfs, we can travel to the future, Azrael, and bask in a world where no one's ever heard the word 'smurf'!"
In a fit of gleeful excitement, Gargamel raced to his sagging bookshelf and began yanking out volumes, tossing those he rejected to the floor. "There has to be some kind of formula or spell or— Ah ha! I knew it!"
Slamming the open book down on his cluttered work table, Gargamel ran his finger over the words, reading them out loud to his cat, who had jumped up on the table beside him.
"Hm, here it is… 'Time Locket,' " he read. " 'With these easy step-by-step instructions, you can make your own Time Locket at home. All you need is a metal-clasp locket and a generous pinch of the Sands of Time (see footnotes).' " Gargamel frowned. "See footnotes? See them where?"
"Mrown mrere," Azrael tapped a paw on the bottom of the page.
"Ah, right, of course," Gargamel coughed a little. "Let's see…" The aging wizard squinted at the tiny handwritten letters. " 'One,' it says. 'Metal is recommended over twine for stringing your locket as it is less likely to break and land your Time Locket in the wrong hands.' Humph!" Gargamel snorted, reflexively defensive. "Wrong hands indeed. Who are they to say who— Actually…" he interrupted himself, "that's not a bad point. Imagine, Azrael, if the locket were to fall off somewhere in the forest and one of the Smurfs were to find it. The havoc they could wreak! Smurfberries and pretty flowers would grow everywhere! Cheerful laughter and happy songs would spread like an epidemic through the towns! Oh, Azrael, it's all too horrible to picture!"
"Mry mrow!" Azrael agreed, making a sour face.
"Well, that's settled, then," Gargamel nodded. "We'll make sure our locket has a metal chain. Now, what else does it say…?" Finding his place, he read, " 'Two: Concerning the Sands of Time. These fine grains of purest sand can be found only in one place: the magic hourglass of Father Time. It is impossible to obtain these grains without first petitioning, then being granted permission from Father Time himself."
Gargamel smirked and closed the book. "Impossible, is it?" he scoffed. "As if I, Gargamel the Great, would need to beg permission from that old fossil. Come on, Azrael." Grabbing a handy sack, the ragged failure slung it over his shoulder and marched to the hovel door. "We've got a meeting with Time, and I don't want to be late!"
To Be Continued...
