CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Chilling.
Day broke, and the sun shone on Clanker's face as he rested on the shore. He had managed to reach the surface before the hull had flooded with seawater. He took a well-deserved nap, closing his weary eyes.
Inside, Kazooie laid on her back, her mind drifting to other things. Banjo was gone, and although she'd hate to admit it, she missed him. Banjo did have a sense of humor, though it was very basic, and was the real adventurer in their travels. He was a land goer. She was an air goer. They were meant to be friends.
But her thoughts were interrupted with the soft trickling of water against her head. "Ehh?" she moaned. She got up and looked about her.
The most noticeable aspect was a large displacement in the iron bars that held Clanker together, with several bolts missing and ribs slanted. But the most chilling difference was that Squinty was now gone.
"Aw, man!" the bird exclaimed. "Who knows where that brat went!" She quickly went to Bottles and the others to investigate.
She reached the molehill in the end room and knocked – which seemed rather odd. "Hellooo! Wake up time!" she announced.
Slowly, everyone got out. First, a gleeful Speccy and Goggles exited, followed by a tortured-looking Mumbo and Bottles. The whole thing reminded Kazooie of a clown-car scene.
"Where's the Mrs.?" asked the Breegull.
"Making breakfast," said Bottles groggily. "It's look like I had some extra food when I needed to boost you health way back when."
"You mean when Banjo was alive," asked Kazooie, her head lowering slightly.
"Yes," spoke the mole sadly.
"So nothing happened here while you were sleeping?" interrogated the bird. "Because Squinty escaped."
"Oh no!" What if he manages to get back to--!"
"I know. We're in big trouble."
Bottles turned to his children. "Kids?" he asked, "did you sleep all right?"
Goggles spoke, "Yes, daddy. Mumbo was telling us a story about how he needs his stick to swim and--" at that point Mumbo dashed to the kid and covered his mouth with his hand.
"What was that you said?" asked Kazooie.
Mumbo let go of the mole. "Nothing," the shaman replied.
"Actually," said Goggles, "Mumbo was saying it in his sleep. We overheard him."
Kazooie's eyes widened slightly. "Well, I suppose the zapping stick CAN be used as a floatation device," she joked.
"Yes, wood floats good," added Speccy.
Both the mole and Breegull began to chuckle at the girl's remark. Mumbo skull turned red.
But the queer chat had halted when a breeze came in. "Brrr," uttered Bottles, "it's getting cold."
"Yes," said Kazooie. "Let's get the kids inside and have breakfast." So they did.
The Molehill actually had a larger interior than it looked from the outside. It had been furnished rather poorly though, which made sense since it hadn't been used much. A single round table stood in the center, with a tiny stove against a wall, and a dim lamp hung over it.
Everyone sat down at their plates and chowed down. The only recognizable substances in front of them were the jars and combs of honey as they ate their meals.
"This is quite good," said Kazooie. "Not exactly caterpillar, but it fits the bill."
Speccy then looked to Mumbo. "Better keep an eye on that stick. "You never know when there'll be a flood."
Bottles and Kazooie nearly choked on their breakfast in laughter. Mumbo's eyes narrowed.
"So then," said Mrs. Bottles as she finally sat with them, "what is your big plan on turning things back to normal this time?"
Both the mole and bird stopped eating, and looked to each other. Communicating without words, Bottles let Kazooie speak.
"Well, I guess we have to get Banjo's body back, so Mumbo can bring him back to life," she said.
"But what about Grunty -- or Klunty, rather?" asked the Mrs.
"Yeah, we always seem to leave that part for later. We'll just have to cross that bridge... when..." The bird suddenly stared into her meal. "What IS this food, anyway?"
"Hurm?" said Mrs. Bottles. "Oh, that's Mutie Meat."
Mumbo's cheeks bloated up. "WHAT?" he said after promptly spitting out the food.
But the kids continued to eat, and Bottles grew angry. "Why did you cook mutated crabs...
...Without butter?" He too continued to eat.
Day broke, and the sun shone on Clanker's face as he rested on the shore. He had managed to reach the surface before the hull had flooded with seawater. He took a well-deserved nap, closing his weary eyes.
Inside, Kazooie laid on her back, her mind drifting to other things. Banjo was gone, and although she'd hate to admit it, she missed him. Banjo did have a sense of humor, though it was very basic, and was the real adventurer in their travels. He was a land goer. She was an air goer. They were meant to be friends.
But her thoughts were interrupted with the soft trickling of water against her head. "Ehh?" she moaned. She got up and looked about her.
The most noticeable aspect was a large displacement in the iron bars that held Clanker together, with several bolts missing and ribs slanted. But the most chilling difference was that Squinty was now gone.
"Aw, man!" the bird exclaimed. "Who knows where that brat went!" She quickly went to Bottles and the others to investigate.
She reached the molehill in the end room and knocked – which seemed rather odd. "Hellooo! Wake up time!" she announced.
Slowly, everyone got out. First, a gleeful Speccy and Goggles exited, followed by a tortured-looking Mumbo and Bottles. The whole thing reminded Kazooie of a clown-car scene.
"Where's the Mrs.?" asked the Breegull.
"Making breakfast," said Bottles groggily. "It's look like I had some extra food when I needed to boost you health way back when."
"You mean when Banjo was alive," asked Kazooie, her head lowering slightly.
"Yes," spoke the mole sadly.
"So nothing happened here while you were sleeping?" interrogated the bird. "Because Squinty escaped."
"Oh no!" What if he manages to get back to--!"
"I know. We're in big trouble."
Bottles turned to his children. "Kids?" he asked, "did you sleep all right?"
Goggles spoke, "Yes, daddy. Mumbo was telling us a story about how he needs his stick to swim and--" at that point Mumbo dashed to the kid and covered his mouth with his hand.
"What was that you said?" asked Kazooie.
Mumbo let go of the mole. "Nothing," the shaman replied.
"Actually," said Goggles, "Mumbo was saying it in his sleep. We overheard him."
Kazooie's eyes widened slightly. "Well, I suppose the zapping stick CAN be used as a floatation device," she joked.
"Yes, wood floats good," added Speccy.
Both the mole and Breegull began to chuckle at the girl's remark. Mumbo skull turned red.
But the queer chat had halted when a breeze came in. "Brrr," uttered Bottles, "it's getting cold."
"Yes," said Kazooie. "Let's get the kids inside and have breakfast." So they did.
The Molehill actually had a larger interior than it looked from the outside. It had been furnished rather poorly though, which made sense since it hadn't been used much. A single round table stood in the center, with a tiny stove against a wall, and a dim lamp hung over it.
Everyone sat down at their plates and chowed down. The only recognizable substances in front of them were the jars and combs of honey as they ate their meals.
"This is quite good," said Kazooie. "Not exactly caterpillar, but it fits the bill."
Speccy then looked to Mumbo. "Better keep an eye on that stick. "You never know when there'll be a flood."
Bottles and Kazooie nearly choked on their breakfast in laughter. Mumbo's eyes narrowed.
"So then," said Mrs. Bottles as she finally sat with them, "what is your big plan on turning things back to normal this time?"
Both the mole and bird stopped eating, and looked to each other. Communicating without words, Bottles let Kazooie speak.
"Well, I guess we have to get Banjo's body back, so Mumbo can bring him back to life," she said.
"But what about Grunty -- or Klunty, rather?" asked the Mrs.
"Yeah, we always seem to leave that part for later. We'll just have to cross that bridge... when..." The bird suddenly stared into her meal. "What IS this food, anyway?"
"Hurm?" said Mrs. Bottles. "Oh, that's Mutie Meat."
Mumbo's cheeks bloated up. "WHAT?" he said after promptly spitting out the food.
But the kids continued to eat, and Bottles grew angry. "Why did you cook mutated crabs...
...Without butter?" He too continued to eat.