best friend, Blue, the fairy penguin, was passing by when she heard his cry for help.
“What’s up, Rory? Are you stuck?” she called.
“No, I’m just yelling for fun … Of course I’m stuck!” he wailed. “There seems to be something really heavy wedged against my door, like an elephant.”
“There was a record fall in the night,” said Blue.
Rory stopped yelling for a moment. “Of elephants?”
“Of snow, silly,” said Blue, trying to brush it away with her flippers. “It’s no good, I can’t shift it. I’ll have to go and borrow a shovel from Waldo. Wait there, Rory.”
“Like I’m going anywhere,” he sighed.
Blue waddled off as fast as she could in the direction of the chinstrap penguins. Waldo had a large collection of lost property that visitors had left at the zoo and, among the hats, spectacles, trolleys and trinkets, there were some tools that the workmen had left behind. There was bound to be something she could use to dig Rory out.
She had only got as far as Big Paulie’s Palace when she stumbled across Waldo and his friends, the Arty Party Penguins. They were trying to clear snow away from Paulie the boss’s front step. Unfortunately there was no shovel, so they had to make do with a trowel and a pogo stick that Wesley and Warren took turns on, jumping up and down to break the ice.
“That’s the way, boys!” said Waldo. “Imagine you’re astride a pneumatic drill.”
He waved cheerily at Paulie. The mighty emperor penguin was pacing up and down behind the palace window with his baby niece and nephew, Oo-Chi and Ku-chi, hanging off his flippers.
“Don’t worry, sir, we’ll soon have you out!” shouted Waldo.
“Dig faster!” mouthed Big Paulie. “These kids are doing my head in.”
Blue smiled. Paulie was the best boss the penguins could ever have. He’d been in charge since the day he arrived from the Antarctic and they all feared and respected him – all except for the emperor chicks, who never gave him a moment’s peace.
“Unky Pooey, uth wanth to go out-thide now!” squealed Oo-Chi.
“Me ith going to make a big fat thnowball,” cheeped Ku-Chi.
Just then, Warren did an extra hard bounce on the pogo stick, a big chunk of ice fell away from the door and, to Paulie’s great relief, he was free. His immediate concern was for the other penguins – were any of them trapped inside their hutches?
“We freed the fairy penguins earlier,” said Wesley. “We could hear Muriel screeching from the other side of the pool.”
“Rory is still trapped,” said Blue.
Waldo picked up his trowel. “I can’t bear to think of that sweet boy missing his breakfast squid,” he frowned. “Lead on, Miss Blue. Arty Party Penguins to the rescue!”
But, by the time they’d staggered back, Rory was waiting for them outside with his rockhopper mates, Eddie and Clive.
“Hey, Blue,” he grinned, “what took you so long?”
Blue looked around. There was no sign of a spade. “How did you escape, Rory?”
“Brolly power,” he said.
Eddie and Clive had managed to dig him out with the pointy end of an umbrella that they’d borrowed from the brown bears who overlooked the penguin pool. As usual, the bears insisted on taking all the credit.
“If it hadn’t been for our umbrella, Rory would have missed lunch as well as breakfast,” growled Orson.
“I hope the spokes aren’t damaged,” added Ursie. “We need it for our dance routine. We’ve come up with a new one for Christmas and it goes like this: a-one, two, three, four …”
He grabbed Orson by the paw, did a ridiculously high kick – and fell over on the ice, pulling the other bear on top of him.
“Honestly, you two. Get married!” cackled a familiar voice.
It was Muriel with the two faithful members of her girly gang, Hatty and Brenda. The bears leapt up and brushed themselves off.
Waldo put his flippers on his hips and looked Muriel up and down. “You shouldn’t tease them,” he said. “It’s the season of goodwill. If the bears want to hug each other, that’s lovely.”
“We were not hugging!” insisted Orson, waving his paws in the air. “We were just dancing and we slipped.”
“Yeah, right. I know a hug when I see one,” chortled Muriel, tapping her beak. “And I know another secret, don’t I, Hatty and Brenda? Go on, tell Rory and Bloop!”
Hatty and Brenda shuffled nervously. They weren’t sure of the answer and, if they got it wrong, there was a good chance that Muriel would shout at them.
She tapped her webbed toes impatiently and glared at them. “Hatty and Brenda, tell Bloop and Rory our secret!”
“That you’re in love with Warren?” blurted Hatty.
“And you think he’s cuddly?” added Brenda.
Muriel blushed and put her head under her flipper.
“No, I’m not! No, I don’t!” she fibbed as Warren sidled off and hid behind a bush. “I meant the other secret … about Santa’s Grotty.”
Blue looked at her sideways. “What’s … a grotty?”
“She means Santa’s Grotto,” said Brenda, waving a leaflet about Christmas at City Zoo that had blown into the penguin pool. “Someone has built a funny shed thing near our enclosure – there’s a photo of it here, see?”
She tapped the leaflet and Rory peered at it quizzically. “When did this happen?”
“The builders were banging about all morning,” interrupted Ursie. “You wouldn’t have heard it because you were snowbound in your hutch, but we can see it all from here.”
“If you don’t believe us, have a peek through your viewing grille,” said Orson.
All the penguins waddled over, pressed their beaks to the little opening in the wall of their enclosure and gazed in amazement at the wooden chalet covered in fairy lights.
“So sparkly!” sighed Hatty.
“So twinkly!” twittered Brenda.
“So what’s it for?” asked Blue.
“Ask
