Chapter 7: Sand Castle Hassle

What's your favorite color?

How old are you?

Do you have a favorite song?

Take your hat off. I want to see your bear head.

Flippy was white-knuckled as he gripped the steering wheel. The Book of the World wouldn't stop pestering him.

Come on, give me something, The Book pleaded from where it'd placed itself on the dash. I'm giving you everything you want to know, aren't I?

Flippy grunted, glowering in his rearview mirror. He swore he was seeing things. Again.

How come you bears aren't naked like the rest of the animals? The Book asked suddenly. Were you all born that way?

"Please stop," Flippy groaned.

Take your clothes off! I want to see what you look like underneath!

"Not now."

Ooh! Later, then?

"Yes! I mean, no!" Flippy snapped, briefly taking his eyes off the road to glare at the book. He almost ran over a turtle crossing the road and swerved around it by a hair, bristling. They were headed down to the beach, after all.

Toothy excitedly stomped on the battlements, slapping his tail down to pack the wet sand in. He and his fellow beaver Handy had been working on a mega-sized sand castle.

For Handy, it was to cure boredom. For Toothy, it was to have a new beach house he could hang out in. He stuck his head over, only able to see Handy's tail wagging down below as he worked. Toothy was curious as to what Handy could've been doing at literally any point in time, since the other beaver moved like a ghost and made things happen with no functioning hands.

Unfortunately, Toothy wasn't wise like Handy when it came to building things and didn't understand key points. Such as, packing wet sand at the top of the structure would cause it to collapse if its base was too weak. It so happened Toothy had gotten overzealous with decorating the top of his bachelor pad.

Handy hummed as he worked, a little oblivious to what was going on over his head. A yards-high column of the structure broke off and while it just barely missed him, caused him to leap back in surprise. He had a thought that his boredom (and his choice of partner) just may put him six feet under this time.

To add to that, one of his feet was buried up to the ankle in sand. Handy tugged it free, now thoroughly annoyed.

Then he took two steps forward and plummeted into the earth, sinking chest deep. He'd fallen into a sand pit. Earlier that day Cuddles had been out there with them for a while, so it didn't leave much thought on who'd made it.

Handy swore as he tried pulling himself up, but his nubs wiggled uselessly and he went absolutely nowhere. He scowled at no one in particular.

"Heeeey, can you help me?" he called. The entire sand castle-bachelor-pad was starting to shake.

Toothy heard him, quickly taking the stairs to ground level. Except that they hadn't built any stairs, or any sort of structure within the sand castle. It was completely hollow.

As Toothy fell off the second floor, the entire thing collapsed in on him. It went dark and almost every bit of air was squeezed out of his body. He learned for the first time that sand was very heavy and unforgiving when it got wet.

Here came the tears. Toothy had his eyes squeezed shut tight, but they still slipped out. He felt like a living fossil, frozen and unable to move. He couldn't believe his luck.

Who dies like this? he thought. I'm such a loser!

He willed himself to stop crying. He had a little air left only because he managed to take a breath and hold it before being buried. Being a beaver he could hold his breath for a while, but not forever.

Meanwhile Handy was in his own little world again. He was bracing his nubs on the sand, still trying to get leverage when someone came up from behind and started manhandling him.

He didn't want to be a victim! In a panic Handy swung his tail hard, twice.

Whack! "Ow!" Whack! "Stop!"

Handy stumbled to the sand, turning around. "Oh, oops," he remarked, when he found a bear rubbing at the side of his head.

Flippy crowded the beaver again, pestering him to see if he had any injuries. Handy didn't, but he was annoyed. He looked over crossly, then his face fell. Oh. Somehow he hadn't noticed the sand castle had collapsed. No wonder Toothy hadn't helped him.

When Flippy found out that Toothy had been buried, he almost lost his shit. How do you not notice someone's been buried alive right in front of your face?

And also, he was pissed at himself for slipping up. He'd only come with the thought he'd be rescuing one beaver, not two.

As Flippy leapt onto the mound of sand, digging frantically, Handy was struck with a thought and ran off. The sand was beginning to dry out and it just kept piling back into the hole as the bear dug. It was also hard for him to keep his own balance and not slip down. He called out to Toothy as he dug as fast as he could, but never got an answer. Flippy's heart started to beat faster and harder. It was too early for things to be going so wrong.

Handy backed his tow truck up to the spot. He had one of his shovels in his mouth; he somehow slung his truck's tow line and hooked the back of Flippy's jacket, then reeled him into the air.

"Wh—" Flippy began, only for the shovel to smack into his face. Wait! This could work. Now he could dig without worrying about his weight getting in the way. With his worry and haste it wasn't too long before he uncovered a purple-furred hand.

Flippy quickly called for Handy to lower him a little more. He was afraid he'd accidentally hurt Toothy with the shovel so he started using his hands again to dig. It was something out of a horror movie when he finally uncovered Toothy's pale face. The beaver opened his mouth to gasp but could barely draw air in. He coughed sand into Flippy's face, asking for help weakly.

Flippy took his hand and tried pulling him out. There was a fleshy tearing sound, and Toothy's eyes bugged out as he screeched.

"Sorry!" Flippy cried. He quickly excavated more sand until the beaver could wiggle his arms and upper body free. By now Toothy was crying, but that was a good sign that he was in normal spirits. Flippy was now able to safely pull him up into his arms, shooting Handy a call to draw them back up.

"Thank you!" Toothy cried. He felt as though the bear was grinning a little too widely. "W-What's the...?"

He looked down and didn't see anything...or his tail, since there was only a bleeding stump where it used to be. Toothy screamed and passed out in Flippy's arms.

More emergency vehicles. More sirens. More lights.

Flippy strode away from the ruckus, sighing wearily as he headed back to the parking lot. Coming his way was Nutty, who was mindlessly chasing a hermit crab down the sidewalk.

There was an uncovered sewer between them. Flippy kicked the mislaid manhole back into place and casually stepped aside. Nutty ran harmlessly over the covered sewer and went on his way. A crocodile poked its head up from the sewer, cursing and slamming the ground with a fist before vanishing down below again.

Flippy had just gotten in his truck and was putting his seatbelt on when his pocket quivered and emitted a harsh alarm. Startled, he pulled his phone out. Something had tripped his home defense system!

He opened his cameras, flipping through them until he found two shadowy figures sneaking through his hallway. They both turned around, showing a pair of white gleaming teeth as they cackled.

"Oh heh heh heh heh...!"

BANG!

Flippy burst through his front door, landing on the threshold with a glare. His home was empty. Nothing looked disturbed or stolen.

His cuckoo clock was on the dining room table, which was weird since he hadn't recalled setting it there. Confused, Flippy went over to it. It was nearly the top of the hour.

Ding! Coo-coo!

A boxing glove flew out of the clock, pummeling him square in the face. Flippy teetered on the spot, then fell out to his back.

A pair of grinning figures popped out from behind the couch. Lifty and Shifty slunk out, laughing at their fortune. They loved it when a plan came together!

"Huh?"

Lifty paused in tying Flippy up, noticing that he had a book on his person. He carelessly dropped the bear to the ground and flipped the book open. Shifty zipped over, carrying a bag of stolen possessions over his shoulder.

They both were shocked at what they saw inside, confused and ruminating about the names and things they saw written of the animals in town. A few pages in Lifty pointed out his name right as Shifty did the same thing too, and the former laughed pettily since his name came before his brother's.

Yes, unlike the others, it seemed like they shared a page. Lifty squinted at part of the text, placing a finger on it to help him read. The book vibrated dully and let out a 'pllthbb' sound. It didn't seem to like his touch.

But Lifty froze up and saw a series of visions that were somehow familiar and foreign:

Christmas.

Prowling.

Looting.

Ransacking...much like how they were doing at that very moment.

And in the exact same house...?

"Helloooo?" Shifty asked impatiently, wondering why his brother was staring off into space with exorcist eyes. He shrugged and went back to plundering.

Oh well, it probably wasn't important. More for him!