Chapter 3
Timon's Kingdom
X
Disclaimer: The version of "The Circle of Life" that is featured in this chapter of The Pride Lands was written by Tim Rice, with music by Elton John for Disney's The Lion King. It does not belong to me.
X
It was morning in the Pride Lands. Five hours had passed since the stroke of midnight, and the sun had not yet begun to rise. Most animals were stirring from their sleeps only now; some were just tucking themselves in, or being tucked in after a hard night's hunting or foraging.
Only one, in or on Pride Rock was awake, and it may surprise you to know that it was not Zazu. In fact, Zazu was deep in sleep. A warthog named Pumbaa was the one pacing around with things on his mind.
Pumbaa was the King's best friend. He was also a red, round pig that frequently experienced the most terrible outbreaks of flatulence. Two big sharp tusks protruded from his mouth; his hoofs were cloven; his eyes were small and kind, and in between his little ears grew a small, black tuft of hair.
When Simba fled from the Pride Lands to the desert years ago in fear of being accused of killing his father, Pumbaa was one of the two that saved him, the other being Timon the meerkat. The grew up together (well actually, Simba grew up; Timon and Pumbaa just grew old) in paradise until Nala left the Pride Lands to find help, so that the lionesses back in Mufasa's land could put an end to Scar's reign. She found them instead: a chubby warthog, a meerkat that made bad jokes, and a lion that was thought to be dead for over a decade.
But it worked. They all returned, and Pumbaa played a huge part in winning back the Kingdom. Scar was overthrown, and in five years, everything from the land to the herds had made full recoveries.
Now Pumbaa was creeping into the cave of Pride Rock where all the lions slept. But not all the lions that were normally present were so at that time, for as you should remember, Simba claimed that he would help the elephants on the count of Rafiki's foreseeing counsel. So only a small fraction of the lionesses were there that morning, for the rest were standing by the elephants and acting as bodyguards.
To the King's side he went. Ever so slowly, he moved in closer, his goal being to wake Simba up with a whisper, so that nobody else would be disturbed.
Then someone yawned. Pumbaa's head swished around. A lioness was stretching. Was she waking? Hopefully, it would not be so. He did not want to be caught disturbing the King. And he wasn't. The one who had yawned quickly returned to slumber. The warthog sighed with relief.
"Simba," he whispered. "Simba, Simba, wake up!"
Simba stirred, but his eyes remained closed and his mouth remained slightly open. "What is it, Pumbaa?" said he, in a voice that many people use when they have been woken from a deep sleep.
"I can't sleep," answered Pumbaa.
"Is it your room? 'Cause I can get a better room for you if you want. Or you can sleep here." Simba outstretched an arm, grabbed Pumbaa, and pulled him so close to himself that his friend looked more like a piece of flattened red play-dough that a round pig. But the King's eyes were still closed, and so blank was the expression on his face that Pumbaa now began to think that Simba might have been sleep talking.
"No, Simba!" said Pumbaa in a choked voice. "I just need to talk to you!"
Simba let loose his hold on Pumbaa, and he fell to the floor and gasped for air, so tight was the lion's grip.
"Fine," said Simba. And he got up, yawned, stretched, and said, "Let's go."
The two walked outside of the cave and up the stairs to the top of Pride Rock. "We won't be disturbed here," said Simba, and yawned once more. "Hey, it's still dark out. Hasn't the sun risen yet, or is there a storm coming? What did you have to talk about that was so important?"
"Well, you see, Simba, I was just wondering- I mean, I-" stuttered Pumbaa, before he was interrupted. What had stopped him was a sound so sweet and beautiful that it would be more than enough to stop the most confident, charismatic speaker in the middle of the best speech that he was ever going to make. What not only he had heard, but also every waking person in the Pride Lands was a single held note of countless voices, originating from the north of the Kingdom and spreading out like an invisible wave.
"Hey, tell me later, alright?" said Simba, suddenly fully awakened. "The birds are singing the national anthem down at the Waterhole. I haven't heard this for years! Come on!" And he rushed down the stairs.
X
Pumbaa arrived by the pool out of breath, but to make up for it, his eyes were immediately filled with such an incredible sight that to make up for that, he would have to go about blind for the next few days. In front of him, perched on trees, waddling around on the ground, standing still as stone, flapping in mid-air and presently landing were a countless number of birds. There was no sky, only feathers. There was no ground, only wings. There were no trees, just erected logs on which rainbows perched. That is, really, what they were- one huge singing rainbow. Plus, the sun was just peeking over the mountains, casting a brilliant orange glow upon the land.
Suddenly the held note ceased to be held, and in its place came the deep, bass voice of a marabou stork (who was blind in one eye, for an interesting piece of trivial information), singing a short verse in another language, presumably the language of the Pride Lands. When it stopped, there was complete silence for half a second, save the beckon of a wild dog from the south. Then the higher, softer voices of the parrots and smaller birds sang in the same language, but using different words. This repeated itself before all birds but the greater flamingoes and marabous burst into a marvelous chant that continued alone roughly eight times, before the voices of the silent birds escaped their mouths and overlapped the continuing sentence, this time in the Common Language:
From the day we arrive on the planet,
And blinking, step into the sun,
There's more to see, than can ever be seen,
More to do, than can ever be done.
There's far too much to take in here,
More to find than can ever be found,
But the sun rolling high, in the sapphire sky,
Keeps great and small on the endless round.
It's the Circle of Life,
And it moves us all,
Through despair and hope,
Through faith and love,
Till we find our place,
On the path unwinding,
In the Circle, the Circle of Life.
There was a pause in the verses, but the chant continued, this time so loud and strong that it woke all but those meant to be sleeping at the time, and those in the deepest of sleeps. Before it ended, animals of all kinds had gathered at the Waterhole; this was the one moment every day that predator and prey could go anywhere near each other before feeling even one bit afraid or worried.
Then, the finale began- the reprisal of the last verse.
It's the Circle of Life,
And it moves us all,
Through despair and hope,
Through faith and love,
Till we find our place,
On the path unwinding,
In the Circle, the Circle of Life.
The last note was held so long that you would think that the birds could all suffocate on the spot from expelling so much breath, but they were really very good at what they did. And just after it ended- a custom of the Pride Lands- all present stamped their feet, hoofs, paws, or bodies (if the person was a snake) on the ground, once and only once, and at the exact same time. Even Simba was seen doing it enthusiastically, though in a kingly sort of way. This created a surprisingly loud sound, similar to that of a large drum. If it were a good day (which that particular day was), this would sound more like a stroke of thunder than a percussion instrument. And the sound echoed through the Kingdom, telling all that the sun had risen.
You see, in the Pride Lands, every day begins and ends with a celebration, but a different song is sung before nightfall. It tells the story of a lion's sleep in a forest, referring to Simba's time of exile (if you will) in the Meerkats' Jungle.
When the song had been sung and the thunder had been mimicked, the animals returned to their normal behaviour- drinking from the Waterhole, taking off to various places, grazing on the grass, bathing, and doing other such things that are typical of animals.
Indeed many of the birds did take off to various places, for the Golden Choir, as they were called, was made up of so many birds (as I have already told) that they could not possibly have all been Pride Landers by birth, and they were not. The Golden Choir had members from every point of the compass, and every bird who had heard the anthems and hymns that they sang would aspire to become one of them like they were obsessed (and a good many of them were just that). Of course, there are many that are not good enough to join, and when they hear it, they usually plod away, unsure of what they want in life from then on. And of course, there are those that will try even harder, like the half-blind stork whom I spoke of earlier; her name was Mwimbaji, and she has a story of her own, though I do not have enough time to properly tell it here.
And when the birds had flown away, Simba turned to Pumbaa and said, "So, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Well," said Pumbaa, looking as if he'd forgotten that very thing already, "you know, a guy might miss some good times he had a long time ago, right? And it's okay to feel a little- a little, um, well- a little nostalgic, right?"
Simba raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh?"
"And it's not really healthy, right? You know, if it's, well- if it's preventable?"
"So what you're saying is that you want me to bring Timon back so it's like old times? Or do you want me to let you go on vacation to the Jungle so that it'll be even more like old times? Or do you-"
"Well, if it's not too much trouble, then yeah. Letting me go to the Jungle, I mean. Maybe for just a week or two, you know? And I'd go by myself so you don't have to lose someone in your hunting party for the time I'm gone," said Pumbaa.
The joy that had collected on Simba's face during the singing of the national anthem suddenly disappeared as though he had realised something unpleasant to realise, or remembered something just as bad. His gaze remained fixed on Pumbaa in an odd stare, though it seemed more like he was looking through the warthog than looking at him. His brows were knitted in thought for a second, and then he said, "You know, I think it's a better idea to bring Timon over here. We'll need him for an important council meeting soon. I'll send someone today, alright?" He looked toward Pride Rock and saw that his wife and child were just stepping out of the cave. Pumbaa still had a look on his face that made it look as if Simba hadn't yet given him an answer. "Hey, I better go now. I'll see you later, alright?" He began to walk away with a fast pace.
"Hey, wait!" called Pumbaa. "Timon isn't part of the council!"
"It's a very important council meeting!"
X
Some time later, Simba was nearly finished with telling Nala about Pumbaa's request, or rather his suggestion on Pumbaa's request. But Nala wasn't very happy about hearing this, not because she disapproved of Timon coming to the Pride Lands, but because Simba refused to tell her why he thought that it would be more convenient if the meerkat came.
"I don't see why you have to know right now!" said Simba sternly. "I've already told you that I'll reveal everything at the meeting, and I'm not even asking you to go and fetch him. I'll go myself if I have to!"
"I don't have to know, Simba, but I want to know. If you're calling thirty-five to the council instead of eight, then shouldn't I have a reason to worry? This is either something very good or very bad- and I've learned that you shouldn't always take things for granted! That's why I'm not an optimist!" shouted Nala. "Just tell me what it is, Simba. Tell me what's the big deal!"
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because- because I don't want you to worry until you have to," answered Simba quietly.
"Worry?" said Nala. "This is something that we should be worrying about- something so needing of worry that we have to call nearly five times the amount of people to council as normal, and you're not telling me what it is?"
Simba turned away, striding to the edge of the platform. He did not answer.
"Simba, we're the King and Queen of this place. We're supposed to be setting an example! Is this how you want to rule the Kingdom, concealing the facts until we 'have to worry'? What if it's too late by then? Here's an example: you still haven't told the pride or the Kingdom where Hezakiah and Kiara have really gone! Not even Hezakiah's mother, do you realise? You can't have possibly kept her silent and stress-free by saying nothing at all. You lied to her, didn't you?"
"That's none of your business!"
"Yes, it is my business! It is my business! Do you know why? Because I am your queen- the Queen. And if it's none of my business, then I guess that it's just the same for his mother, right?
"Do you know how Scar prevented us from ripping him apart on that day when you disappeared? He concealed the truth! He told us that you were killed in the stampede- killed with your father! He led us down there, and we found Mufasa's body, trampled, bruised, and bleeding. But we didn't find yours. He said that he'd seen them unintentionally kicking you down the Gorge to the river!"
"I've already heard how it happened, Nala! You don't have to-"
"Yeah? Well that's what you think! Maybe I have to make you aware of what you're really doing!"
"I know what I'm doing! I don't want you to lose sleep!"
"Don't you dare turn into your uncle. Don't you dare. This had better be the last time! If you've changed your mind, now's the time to tell me the truth."
Simba remained silent.
"Fine. Don't worry about sending one of the lionesses down there. I'm going myself." And she stormed down the stairway, to the promontory.
X
Nala was just reaching the first staircase when the pride began to realise that she was going somewhere. When they approached her and asked her where she was going, all she would say was, "To see to a royal matter," or "On a long journey," or "Away- I'll be back in a week." The lioness who asked the question would suddenly stop following their queen's fast strides, fall back, and slowly return to their own business.
But then two of them offered their services; they would escort her to whatever destination she aimed to travel to, and escort her back. Their names were Baaba and Toumani, and when Nala kindly refused their offer, they reminded her about one particularly old law that stated that they had to give, "and not offer, but give" protection to the King or Queen when it seemed necessary. So, reluctantly, she accepted.
The three of them journeyed for two days before Nala told them where they were going. They did not know for sure, even when deep forest crept around them and overhanging branches cramped them, for they had never been to the Meerkats' Jungle before, nor was the name and description of the place etched deep into their minds. And though she told them of their destination, she did not tell them the reason for it, for in truth, she did not really know.
Nala looked very confident in the direction and route that she was taking, but her two lionesses wondered how it was so. This was because in the constantly told stories of the exile of Queen Nala and return of King Simba, it was always said that Nala took the longer, much less life-filled route: the Northern Desert.
However, somehow, the Queen did know her way around the place very well, and in a total of three days from departure to arrival, they arrived in the Meerkats' Jungle for a very unexpected sight. The most noticeable thing was that fireflies had been arranged in specific shapes and patterns to form pictures of certain things, such as flashing signs. The luminous insects had indeed been trained to flash in synchronization at intervals of one second, and strange foods had been given to them (really, don't ask me what they were being fed) to give their lights different colours. If any of them had seen a movie, television show, or even a theatrical production that took place in Las Vegas, portrayed as a place of gambling and other things with bright flashing lights, they would have immediately associated one place with the other. There was a public hot spring every twenty strides, buffets, classy sleeping quarters whose entry required a hefty payment of bugs, and gambling and bars where strange juices from insects and grubs were drunk. Most of all, there were people throwing up everywhere and having bodily relations (if you catch my meaning) whenever they felt like doing so. Perhaps you could imagine it quite easily due to films made for mature audiences, but if any Pride Lander were told of it before seeing the place for themselves, they would never be able to piece the picture together. I will also mention that someone, somewhere, with a strong, deep, loud voice was singing ballads.
Timon appeared out of nowhere with a fruit husk in his left hand filled with orange liquid, hair badly ruffled and matted (which his mother would never approve of), slightly bloodshot eyes, and an awkward smile plastered all over his face. Baaba and Toumani tried to recognise that type of grin, but failed. However, Nala looked as if she knew it well.
"Hey everybody!" yelled Timon in such a lazy tone that anyone would think that half his face was paralyzed. "It's Nala!" He broke into maniacal laughter and fell to the floor, proceeding to roll around on the ground and rub himself with rotting deciduous matter. Finally, his laughter abruptly stopped and he burst into tears. "Nala, everybody! Nala!" said he.
From a nearby hot spring came the sound of about ten voices, all strangely lazy like Timon's, cheering without enthusiasm and indeed not knowing what they were cheering for.
"Timon!" exclaimed Nala. "What's wrong with you? Why are you talking like that? Are you sick? Do you need-"
"Hey, don't swear, Nala!" cried the meerkat, helping himself to his feet. "Swearing is so bad!"
"But I didn't-"
"You got to set an example, CRAP-BOOBS-CRAP!" And he vomited all over the Queen's feet.
Baaba and Toumani instantly sprang into action; one of them tackled him down and threateningly pointed vomit-coated extended claws at his throat while the other held him down and questioned him, "How dare you vomit on the Queen's feet!"
"Hey, that was fun!" squealed Timon. "Let's do that again! Come on, do it!" He had another fit of laughter.
"Answer! How dare you vomit on the Queen's feet? Apologise, or Toumani will slit your throat!"
"Don't worry baby, there's plenty of Timon for everyone," said he, and vomited once more with such force that the disgusting, soupy warm stuff was sprayed all over the two lioness' chests. They both let out a cry and fell back.
"It's all right, you two," said Nala, stepping forward. "Just leave him alone next time. I think there's something wrong with him. We've got to get him to Rafiki as soon as possible."
"Yeah!" cheered the hot spring-bathing meerkats that did the same earlier. At the same time, someone was heard vomiting. Then someone screamed in agony, "Oh God, it burns!"
"Do we take him back to the Pride Lands now, your highness?" asked the lionesses.
"No, not right now. I need to collect four more people before we leave," answered Nala.
"Where shall we keep this one, your highness?" they asked.
"Carry him with you wherever we go. We don't want to lose him, or his condition might get even worse." She stared at Baaba and Toumani's feet and chests. "Uh, you can wash yourselves first, if you want to."
"You should go first, your majesty," said Toumani, and Baaba agreed.
"Don't worry about me." And she wiped away the green mixture on the ground.
Nala searched the populated parts of the Jungle for the rest of that day, and her subjects followed. The four meerkats that she was looking for went by the names of Andy, Ying, Uncle Max, and Ma.
Max was Timon's uncle; a paranoid guy, he used to be, until he started living in the Jungle. The last that Nala had heard of him was that he held a daily tai chi session that went for about an hour, an hour after the break of dawn. But it was hard to imagine that anyone practiced tai chi in that Jungle, now.
Ma was Timon's mother, crazy about styling his hair in all manners of crazy shapes, colours and forms. She had been passing the time as a (no prizes for guessing correctly) hairstylist, but she probably would not have been doing that any more, for the Ma that everyone knew would never approve of living in a place such as Timon's Kingdom.
A timid rodent was Andy, for when the meerkats lived in the far south, beyond the Outlands, he was always put on sentry duty, and he saw some pretty distressing things out there, especially in the night. They said that he did a good job, because he would scream from as little as a gopher popping out of the ground. But one day he met Rafiki, the wise shaman, and arrived back at the "Pit of Shame" confident, brave, and psychologically strong. Then he wasn't so good at what he used to do, and the mandrill was blamed, for they had to find new sentries.
Finally, Ying was a wise old meerkat with a face so shriveled and sagging that his brow drooped over his eyes in an everlasting, thoughtful frown. His arms were thin, his mouth was toothless (and so he was also known as Gummy Joe), and atop his head sat three strands of hair with grey roots. Whenever someone had a question that was really plaguing their mind, they would go to Ying for the answer. Gummy had answered everything after he was over-the-hill from "How do I know it's love?" to "Should we give her a normal party, or a surprise one?" to "Why did the hornbill cross the path?"
Unfortunately for the three lionesses, they found no one of interest that day except for a psychotic lizard, and had to stay the night in the Jungle. But fortunately for them and their own mental and physical health, they chose to stay away from the bright lights and "hotels." Instead they slept in a nice little clearing with a large tree standing tall over them that had roots in the shape of a cradle, big enough for a lion to sleep in.
X
"O, my head! What the hell did I get myself into last night?" was the sound that Nala woke up to that morning. It was Timon's voice, of course, and after drinking what he had been drinking, and drinking so much of it, that the last thing that he could remember was asking the guy behind the counter at the bar for a shell of orange beetle juice.
Nala just curled up into a tighter ball, thinking that she was back in the cave of Pride Rock. Suddenly she realised that it was not so, sprang to her feet and reabsorbed her surroundings. That was when she realised that the déjà vu that she had been experiencing was on a good call. The place where she and her three companions had slept the last night was the same place where she had seen Timon and Pumbaa sleeping (and where her husband slept) all those years ago when she was exiled and found Simba. Toumani was sleepily leaning against the tree trunk that had acted as the threesome's bed, and Baaba was snoring even more loudly than she would have been if she were back at home- sleeping like a log. Timon was lying on the ground a few strides away from everyone else, as straight as the trunk of a baobab tree, quietly moaning to himself. He occasionally muttered things like, "Hey, I remember now!" and "Hm, what happened after that?" in a voice which hinted that he was in pain.
"Toumani? What happened to you? Why are you so tired?" asked Nala.
"It was him- the meerkat, saying things in his sleep all night," answered Toumani.
"Nala? Is it you? Is it really you?" exclaimed Timon.
"Yes, Timon, it's me," said Nala, walking to stand over him.
"It is you!" said Timon upon seeing Nala's face hovering over him. "Ah, my head!"
"What's wrong, Timon? Did you hit your head? Tell me everything," said Nala.
"What? No, I didn't hit my head, I was just drinking that bug juice. You know the one with the stuff added into it so it does things to you?"
"Huh?"
"We meerkats drink these bug juices with a special ingredient added into them that makes us a little crazy after we've had a few shells of it. And, well, when he wake up the next day, our heads hurt and stuff," explained Timon. "We call it a hangover."
"Is it permanent? The side effects, I mean."
"Nope, I should be fine by tonight."
"And why do you drink the juices?" asked Nala.
"Well, because- because, um… You know, I've never really thought about that. Because it's fun?"
"Because you're STUPID, THAT'S WHY!"
Timon let out a cry of pain and winced, pressing his palms to the sides of his head. "Hey, watch your voice, Nala!"
"Why?"
"Because it doesn't do wonders for my head, that's why! Now will you just let me rest for awhile?"
An evil grin crawled its way across Nala's face. "You'd better answer my questions before asking any more of your own, or I'll shout so loud, right in your ear so that your brain explodes inside your skull."
"Oh, please! No, mercy, Nala! Mercy! Aren't you supposed to be- oh, yeah, no questions. Right."
"Good. Now, you're the one who runs that place, right?" asked Nala.
"If you mean that place with the spas and bars and lounges and hotels and flashy lights, then yeah, I run that place."
"But the last time I saw that place, it was a quiet place with natural water-features and kids throwing fat grubs around near Max's tai chi class! Most of all, it had no spas, bars, lounges, hotels, or lights! What did you do to that place in the ten years that the meerkats and lions have lived apart?"
"Well, I've made it better, in my opinion. More fun, more relaxation, more class- you know, that sort of 'better'."
"Yeah? Well yours is an opinion of a SEX-CRAZED, PSYCHOTIC, ALWAYS-ON-A-HANGOVER, BAD-JOKE-MAKING FREAK!
"ARGH! Don't shout!"
"I will shout if I have to! Where do the kids go to get away from the sex and vomit? Where do the old folks go for fun? How does anyone manage to get to sleep with all that noise and singing going on every hour of the day and night?"
Timon thought out loud, "Hm, where do the kids go… where do the old folks go… how do people sleep? Well, I've never really thought about that, to tell you the truth."
"WHAT? So you just built the place, got intoxicated, and then you didn't care about anything else but filling your husk? Is that it? Do you even know where Max is? Do you even know where your mom is? And what about Ying- doesn't anyone go to him for advice anymore?"
The meerkat cringed at the noise. "No, I don't know where they are! Now could you just let me rest here for about a day and ask all your other questions tonight or something? Oh, and could you bring me a shell of water please? There's a lake just over there."
Nala pulled away so that Timon could no longer see her, and ever so slowly and quietly, she moved her lips closer to his right ear. In two seconds, a noise would erupt from that clearing in the middle of the Jungle that would shake the ground, burst through the canopy, scare birds away from the trees, freeze all in the tracks in fear of the end of the world, and barely reach Pride Rock.
"NO!
"Toumani, get some rest. You don't have to watch over Timon any more; he's not going anywhere. I'm going back to the populated area of this Jungle. I'll be back in an hour or so," said Nala, and disappeared into the trees.
X
And so the Queen of the Pride Lands found herself walking in the meerkats' version of our Las Vegas for the second time of her life. But she was not there for a round of behaviour observation; she was there on some important business- to stop the madness, and to allow the meerkats to live the simple life that all animals should.
Finding the highest place that she could climb to stand on, she roared a roar so loud that it would turn all heads in her direction and cause car accidents in rush hour, in New York City. Needless to say, all meerkats turned to her; the music stopped; the vomiting stopped; the drinking stopped, and even the fireflies stuck to the signs stopped flashing.
"Look at yourselves. Meerkats aren't meant to be living how you're living. What happened to the simple life of swimming, digging, throwing grubs around, and tai chi?"
"I ate it!" called one cheeky meerkat, and the whole crowd burst into laughter, though it wasn't really that funny.
Nala roared once more to gain attention, and it worked just as well as the first time. "Listen to me. You're killing yourselves here. You've driven away the elderly, those that have strong wills, and most children, and warped the minds of the kids that chose to stay with their far-from-responsible parents! Look at what you've become. You should be ashamed of yourselves."
"Yeah, but we aren't!" called the same cheeky meerkat's voice, and the crowd burst into laughter once more.
Nala roared a third time, but she had overused it, and the element of fear was gone. The crowd continued to laugh like a bunch of chickens, which was extremely infuriating for her. Imagine this: you've just emerged from the kitchen with several large plates of food after slaving away in the kitchen all day to serve a bunch of greedy, fat (bear with me here), distant relatives. But you never get a chance to sit down and eat because as soon as you lay the food down, they begin to stuff their cheeks with it and demand drinks from you. When you get the drinks and hand them to them, they demand straws and when you get the straws for them, they complain that the food is too salty or tough or that there's not enough of something even though anyone else would say that it was a perfect meal. Then someone spills hot chocolate all over your clothes and the whole table of fat, greedy pigs laugh, pointing chubby, greasy fingers at you. Then, just when you're about to tell them off, they get up and walk out the door, still laughing as hard as ever, disappearing into their means of transport and driving away before you get one shouted word out. I know I'd be furious- that's how Nala felt, and perhaps you can relate to this as well (elaborate example, I know- but I like elaborate things).
Fuming with white-hot rage, she leaped off her rock, flying through the air like a bird; she landed right atop one particularly fat rodent, pinned the whimpering thing down to the ground and roared once more. The crowd fell silent.
"Ooh, scary! I'm shaking!" mocked the annoying meerkat.
Nala had no more tolerance. She waded speedily through the crowd to the source of the voice (a pathetically scrawny little guy with matchstick arms and visible ribs) and plucked him from the hot spring that he was sitting in. Then she and flung him at a tree, so terribly hard that when he fell to the ground after bashing into it he was unconscious and did not wake for another four weeks. Even then, he never did get his memory back.
"You people are going to tear all of this down- the lights, the bars, hotels," (Nala had never heard these words before Timon mentioned them in her life, but she remembered everything that she heard, and was quick to use new words) "everything. And if you don't, I'll bring my whole family here- the King and all- to hunt you all down one by one, and tear you from limb to limb and eat you alive. We will stay in this jungle in wait for you if it takes the rest of our lives- which it won't." She smiled a wicked smile. "We are very good huntresses, back in the Pride Lands."
There was a long, terrified silence.
"What's it going to be?"
Someone called out, "Hey, wait! The King and Queen of the Pride Lands made a law that makes it illegal for Pride Landers to eat us! You can't touch us, missy!"
She strode to the source of the voice and towered over the rodent who trembled upon seeing her. "What did you call me?"
"I-I called you, um, well, I called you- I called you missy?" replied the meerkat.
"And you think that I won't lay a paw on you because the law that the King and Queen made makes it illegal?"
"Y-Yes, ma'am."
"Well, I got news for you, buddy."
Literally, the meerkats all held their breath, and they nearly passed out from doing so; Nala sure knew when and how to keep people in suspense.
Finally she ended with strong emphasis on each word she said, "I am the Queen."
The rodents were horrified. "She going to rip us apart! Kill as all!" they said, and in a wild frenzy, tore down everything with their bare hands until they hurt too much to grip a grape. That was when they used their jaws, and when they found that their teeth weren't built for tearing apart timber, they used their feet, such was their fear. When the dust cleared, meerkats were seen lying on the ground like Beanie Babies and every single thing that Timon had commanded the building of laid with them in shreds- yes, even the branches and trunks of trees were shredded- and in ruin.
Then, the cherry atop the four-foot-high pile of ice cream was placed. "Oh, and if you ever think of reverting to your old ways, guys," said Nala, "just think, this forest will soon be filled with Pride Lander birds, and they will report back to their homeland every single day."
She walked a dignified walk out of the ruinous place, back to the clearing where her three companions awaited her. Her job was done.
X
After weaving her way through thick tree trunks and snaring roots for many minutes, Nala came to a tiny clearing, but a clearing nonetheless. This indicated to her that to reach the clearing where Toumani waited, she had only to walk another two hundred strides.
Just as she was leaving the clearing and heading back into dense foliage, a faint and strangely familiar voice came from somewhere ahead of her, and though faint, it was obviously shouting. Nala could just make out the word that it had yelled; it was "Attack!" Then, many other voices bellowed and yelled in a charge. She held her breath and listened intently.
"They're all over me!" called one voice in frustration.
"Stay strong- they're only small!" answered another.
Nala recognised these voices immediately; they belonged to Baaba and Toumani. She broke into a full-speed run through the thickets, over stones, under branches, through leaves, into spiders' webs. What could be causing them so much trouble? And Baaba had mentioned their size, too; there must have been many attackers. It was horrible for her to think of what the intruders could be.
After a length of time that seemed much longer than it really was, Nala broke through the wall of scrub protecting the treeless circle and gasped at what she saw. Uncle Max had leaded a large band of followers into the area to attack her two lionesses. The meerkats all had two black lines draw across the sides of either of their cheeks with a black staining substance, and wore leaf-bearing twigs from the trees around them on various parts of their bodies to better camouflage themselves. Amongst the mayhem, Timon was not visible.
"Stop!" beckoned Nala. Everyone froze in their positions with heads turned toward her. "Max, what are you doing? Why are you attacking these two?"
Uncle Max was presently standing atop Baaba's head, but he leaped down as soon as his name was called. "Nala!" said he, in greeting. "Well, what brings you here?"
"The sound of your attack is what brings me here. Why are you doing this? What've we done?"
"Oh, these are your lionesses?" said Max apologetically.
"Yes!" barked Toumani, and the entire number of meerkats holding on to her and Baaba fell to the ground.
"Ah, that makes a lot of sense. Actually, we were just trying to get at Timon. Where is he, anyway?"
"It's because he turned the old Jungle into that place with the lights and other things, right?" said Nala.
"Yeah, that's it," answered Max. "And if I ever see him-" (he shook his fist while saying those words).
"I'm up here, guys!" called Timon from a branch above, seemingly having climbed the tree to escape the fray.
"Timon!"
"And if I ever see him, I'LL KILL HIM!" ended Max.
He grabbed a stone from the floor and hurled it at Timon, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Timon let out a cry and fell to the ground, landing with a dull thud. In seconds, all the meerkats in the circle were on him, beating him up quite badly with their bare hands, ripping out his fur with their teeth. "I'LL KILL YOU, TIMON! I'LL KILL YOU!" yowled Max with a slightly maniacal tone of voice.
But at a command from Nala, all the rodents stopped moving once more, and the lionesses managed to calm them all down so that they could see Timon and refrain from trying to tear him apart.
"You don't need to kill him," explained Nala. "The Jungle back there's a little messy, but otherwise, it's exactly the same as the way you found it."
All those present (save Nala, of course) simultaneously exclaimed, "What?" but in different tones of voice. Max's followers' voices were disbelieving ones, the lionesses' were amazed ones, and Timon's was one of a man that has just lost years and years of hard work in one second.
"NO! Life is over!" wailed Timon, and burst into tears.
"What? So you just told them to tear it down, and they did?" asked Max.
"That's pretty much it," answered Nala. "I'll take you there, if you want."
"Wait! What happens if this is all a trap? What if you take us there around a corner, and there's a bunch of hungry lions ready for lunch?" questioned Max.
"Max, if I wanted to eat you, I would've done it a long time ago. And anyway, it's illegal for Pride Landers to eat you guys, and just because I'm the Queen, doesn't mean that I'm above the law."
They agreed to be led back to Timon's Kingdom eventually, though along the way, a paranoid Max muttered of his crew's horrible deaths at the jaws of predators. Of course, he was wrong, and when they saw that everything was down, they started work at clearing the mess (not disposing of it, but simply hiding it away in convenient places, as is the nature of meerkats), and were done in a short time. All the while, Timon wept at his loss.
When it was done and over with, Max approached Nala, dusting off his hands. "Well, this is great. I take everything back about you betraying our trust and everything," said he. "We got to go back to the Hidden Waterfall tomorrow to get the others. They'll be overjoyed at this! Thanks, Nala- I mean, we really owe it to you."
"No problem; any time," said Nala.
Of course, the partying meerkats were punished, though not severely. They soon returned to their old ways of life: no wacky bug juices, no spontaneous bodily relations, and nothing too sophisticated for animals.
The group did not travel through the Jungle any more that night; they rested where they were, and awoke the next morning, bright and fresh.
Ten hours after the stroke of midnight, rodents and big cats alike set off. Nala was expecting her errand to be over very soon, and the meerkats were expecting everything to settle down very quickly. However, they were terribly mistaken, as they would later find out. Something had happened back at the Waterfall that night that would seriously delay the council meeting and unfortunately, the Pride Landers' time was not in abundance.
X