The fog was thinning as Old Year’s Night carried on. The party and its guests were grooving. The food was nearly finished, but the alley cats still had plenty of oomph in their Meowzik Maker. The evening was still young.
“What’s happened to your fur, Badger?” shrieked Cheryl, “It’s all spiky.”
Badger pointed at Cheryl “What’s happened to yours? You look like a topsy-turvy thistle.”
Cheryl gasped, and tried to pat down her fur, but every time she patted, another tuft sprang up.
“And you look like a creeping juniper bush,” laughed Badger, spotting Dodgy Dave.
One by one, they saw that the fur of all of their coats was standing on end.
“It’s difficult to see in the dark, but if I’m not mistaken, my gorgeous coat has gone a deep shade of purple too,” said the Earl disdainfully.
Badger scratched his chin and said, “Right, this has got to be the mead. Lennie, what exactly has the famous stinkiberry done to us all?”
Lennie looked at his brother Louie in panic.
“Badger,” said Louie calmly, “I can assure you, we’ve had this mead many times, and all it’s ever done is tasted good. I’ve never seen it affect anyone like this before.”
Otto, who was flying overhead, shook with laughter.
They looked upwards.
“Is this something to do with you, Otto?” shouted Badger sternly.
“I might have added a few extra ingredients to the mix,” snorted the fez, still tittering. “This is supposed to be a party after all. Don’t worry, the colour will eventually fade and the spikiness will gradually flop.”
“Eventually?” howled Cheryl “We’re due back on tour tomorrow!”
“Oops!” said Otto mischievously.
“Right, you’ve had your fun, Otto, and we all think you’re hilarious. You’re always moaning about being excluded, so come down here and have some mead with us too.”
“No chance! I’m meant to be red and my tassle is perfectly sleek, thank you very much,” shouted the fez, zooming higher still.
Lennie looked longingly after the hat and said: “I wish that fez was mine.”
“Really?” said a baffled Badger. “You’re welcome to him then, if ’Chief ever returns. In the meantime, I’m ignoring him. See how he likes that!”
The others agreed that to simply ignore the fez seemed like a very good plan indeed.
“Let’s get back into the party spirit. So what if we’re purple and spiky?” said Hamish cheerfully.
“Yes, show us some magic tricks, Badger,” suggested Louie.
Timmy threw him a banana and asked, “Can you straighten that?”
Badger sighed heavily, looked to where his neckerchief had once sat and then raised his eyebrows wearily to Otto the Fez, still giggling above.
“Well, I can try. If I can remember my banana-straightening spell, that is.
“Manyana banana, so ripe and so yellow,
Do me a favour and be a nice fellow.
Why are you curved? Is that your fate?
Just take your bend and now make it straight.”
Badger stood back and watched the banana tie itself into a knot. He scratched his chin as the others all fell about laughing. Otto sulked, as no one was laughing at him anymore. In fact, it was as if he wasn’t even there.
“Well, it’s not quite a straight banana, Badger, but I think it’s funnier like that. Any more tricks?” guffawed Dodgy Dave.
“Enough!” giggled Badger. “Now, why don’t you all tell me your plans for the year ahead. Has anyone got any New Year’s resolutions?”
“Yes,” piped up Top Dog. “Hamish and I are going to volunteer to help at PLOPP once a week with Snif and Timmy.”
“That’s very admirable, Top Dog. Anyone else?” asked Badger.
“Yes, Cheryl’s got a plan,” said Dodgy Dave nudging his dancing partner. Cheryl’s eyes widened as she took centre stage and explained. “We’re starting free dancing classes after this next tour for our footloose four-legged friends.”
“Wow!” said Badger nodding appreciatively. “I know there will be lots of eager pals who will be delighted to follow in your footsteps.”
“And we’ve got a recipe book coming out with all the dishes we’ve created at PLOPP,” said Timmy. “It’s called Classic Creations from PLOPP on the Lane and the famous chef, Delilah Whiff, has written the introduction. It’s really exciting. We’re hoping Miss Whiff will be able to join us for the launch.”
“Snif, Miss Whiff and Timmy! What a dream team that will be down at PLOPP! Well done, you two. You’ve both worked so hard,” said Badger proudly.
“Our next trip is to an ashram in Bangalore, to chill out,” said Lennie looking at his brother Louie happily.
“Aha!” said Badger “So the Zen Den in our last adventure made a bit of an impact?”
Lennie blushed.
The Earl of Doodlepoppington was next to reveal his plans. “Well, my dear boy, I’m thinking of expanding my Pooch Parlour empire to include other planets in our solar system. After all, I’ve already conquered the world.”
“Okay,” said Badger mystified. “And you know for sure, there’s a market there?”
“There certainly is on Planet Sirius, so that’s where I’ll start,” said the Earl smugly.
“And what about you Pickle?” asked Badger gently.
Pickle stood up, amidst her friends and admitted, “I wish I could start my New Year with Pogo Paws. I should have gone with him to the circus when I had the chance.”
The others patted her kindly. Otto, who was now trying to get in everyone’s good books, flew around her and tickled her on her tummy with his tassle to make her laugh. Badger smiled, nodded knowingly and said: “Well, if at first you don’t succeed, Pickle, try again.”
Pickle stared at him, baffled.
Finally, Badger beckoned the fez. “How about you, Otto? Do you have plans for the New Year?”
“I do, I do,” said Otto meekly.
“Well, please share them with us all. This should be interesting,” said Badger.
“I vow to be more obedient, less cheeky, but most importantly, I’m going to start up my own squadron of red fezzes: an aerobic flying-formation skylark. I, of course, will be flight leader,” announced Otto, tilting upwards and twirling like a gyroscope in the air.
“Wow!” said Badger. “Well, we’ll all be expecting a spectacular fly-past when ’Chief returns.
Otto smiled and waved his tassle.
As they had been chatting, they hadn’t noticed that the fog had cleared completely. The midnight sky was ablaze with stars.
Badger looked up and saw a familiar lone cloud hovering high above.
It was Nippy Nimbus, his grumpy cloud crony.
