The phantom menace is quite cute really.

Introduction                                                            

                                        

     Piccolo the Panther is a series of children’s stories based on the adventures of a naughty young Panther called Piccolo. Piccolo is unusual because he was born in the North of England in the Lake District a very long way from his home in Africa. His Great Grandfather was half Leopard half Puma and his Great Grandmother was a Scottish Wildcat. Piccolo is a very special and exotic young Panther indeed. Here is one of his stories.
  

                                  Piccolo The Panther                                     

The Panther and the Pig

       It was a very hot day indeed. Under the green bracken the heavy air was slightly more comfy and Piccolo was trying to hide from the flies and midges until the evening came along with it’s lovely cool breeze. Piccolo is an expert at doing nothing at all. He practices a lot and is getting better at it every day. The little midges were making him cross because they were interrupting his doing nothing by making him do something. They were creeping into his eyes and into his ears and nibbling his nose and generally causing him to shake his head and huff and puff.

       He was just about to stand up and shake himself, this is a very serious matter in the middle of doing nothing at all, when his nose started to wrinkle up and twitch all over. A most interesting and unusual aroma indeed was wafting over his bed in the bracken. It was a powerful, busy smell that made his tongue tingle all over. Piccolo had never, ever, smelled anything like it before. However Piccolo is not very old so there are a great many thing that he has not yet smelled. Panthers are allowed to interrupt their doing nothing in special cases, an unusual and especially interesting smelly smell is just such a special case.

       Now standing up after a nice rest is a difficult business. Carefully, he reached out with his front paws and stretched his shoulders remembering to yawn and curl his pink tongue. Next he got up on his back legs and stretched his hips unfolding his tail until it was as long as possible. His coat was a strange pale plum colour, (not pink though!) It was very shiny with little rosettes like a child’s fingerprints all over it. He is very proud of his coat. Before he made another move he had to examine it and lick a spot here and there. When everything was in order and he could begin. No Panther likes to seem to be too interested in anything, but really Piccolo was quite excited, like all cats he is a very nosey indeed.

      The smell was coming slightly downhill from the part of the forest where the Beech trees grow. This was quite annoying because it is very hard to be quiet when walking on Beech mast and dead leaves, but Piccolo is a Panther and being quiet is something that Panthers do very well. A Human in the Beech wood would sound as though he was walking on rice crispies but Piccolo made hardly any noise at all as he crept along.

      As he made his way the little birds scolded and twittered, warning each other,

"Piccolo, Piccolo, Piccolo!" They cried fluttering safe in the small branches. Piccolo is especially fond of birds, but today he ignored them. Up the hill towards the pond the smell got smellier and smellier. Piccolo stopped now and then to have a listen but he could hear nothing unusual. Wood pigeons cooed and clattered in the tops of the trees and everything was covered in the lazy buzzing of twenty seven hundred thousand little bees and insects in the canopy above. A Woodpecker thrummed and drummed and a Shrew was arguing noisily with his wife but there was nothing unusual to a Panther. Piccolo ambled on following the river of smell. As he got to the top of the hill he hunkered down in a tangle of sweet smelling woodbine and hazel to peer carefully over the brow before proceeding. Panthers are not hasty at all and never rush if they can avoid it. He flattened his ears along his head and looking along his nose. Nobody could have seen anything at all except two bright little eyes.

       In the little valley below a tree had fallen across the noisy little stream and a shiny pond had gradually filled up as dead leaves and branches gathered to make a dam against the tree. Piccolo knew it well and often came here to drink. The hot weather had forced the water to retreat a little leaving a gloopy, muddy, soggy beach all stippled with footprints that the Woodland animals had left behind. It smelled old, mouldy and black with a whiff of egg sandwiches.

       A big untidy pile of gloop lay in the middle of the mud, it looked a bit odd. Piccolo stiffened as something on the pile twitched. Was that an ear? He sank even lower into his hidy hole. Sucky, squelchy sounds came from the pile and then a strange contented grunting sigh. Piccolo crept forward, his whiskers all of a bristle. What could it be? Closer and closer Piccolo was down on his tummy scuttling from tuft to tuft. His Mother would have been very cross with him, but don’t forget Piccolo is a very young Panther and even for a cat he is very nosey indeed.

 “I can see you .” Piccolo froze.

It was a very deep, gruff voice. Nearly angry but not quite.

“Why are you sneaking around, whatever you are?” Piccolo was mortified, but he didn’t say a word. He looked over his shoulder, as all cats do, in case he had to run away.

“If you don’t come out where I can see you properly I shall charge up there and knock you silly.” The big pile of gloop stood up with a tearing squelch and turned around to face Piccolo. It shook itself and great clods of mud were flung off in all directions. Piccolo could see that it was big and fat with a big pointy head and mane along it’s back. A stiff little tale stood straight up at the back and on either side of his snout he had flashing white tusks with small beady eyes. Piccolo gathered his courage, but he did not stand up,

“I am Piccolo the Panther and this is my wood! What are you doing here, whatever you are?”

“Ha Hahh.” Said the thing, Piccolo flinched, surely it was not laughing, he felt his tail twitch, once then twice. This creature was not very polite.

“He Heh, so you are Piccolo the Panther and this is your wood hey. Well Piccolo, I am here now so it’s my wood from now on. Come down here so I can see you.”

     Piccolo was very annoyed now, who was this big, bossy rude and, he had to admit it, quite scary creature?

“Who are you, I have never seen anything quite like you before.” The creature stuck his chin out and said,

“No, and you never will either! There are none as big and strong and handsome as I am. Meet Wilfred, the Wild Boar, little cat. Now do as I say and come down here where I can see you!”

Little cat, did he just call me a little cat, Piccolo was very cross now. His tail fluffed up with indignation, all along its length.

“I am a Panther, Pig, a Panther not a little cat. Now you come out of that mud at once.” Wilfred did indeed come out of the mud.

     He exploded out of his wallow in a cloud of muddy spray and charged up the bank towards Piccolo squealing angrily.

“Pig! You call me a pig! I am Wilfred the Wild Boar! Now feel my tusks you scrawny moggy!” Wilfred was really very quick even though he was so fat. Piccolo guessed that he was at least ten times his size and his tusks very, very impressive indeed. Piccolo did not want to feel them at all. Panthers are very practical creatures and Piccolo completely forgot that he was angry and quickly sprang up a good thick Birch tree. He was just in the nick of time.

     Wilfred hit the tree with a tremendous thud. Wild Boars aren’t terribly clever you know, and a shower of leaves and twigs fluttered to the ground. Piccolo was very surprised, fancy head butting a tree! Wilfred sat down suddenly, shaking his head. He had quite knocked the breath out of himself. Piccolo was gazing down in amazement, this was a very interesting adventure. Wilfred was the first Wild Boar that had ever come to the Wood. Eventually he stood up and ran around and around the tree scooping up clouds of leaf litter and rubbish and shouting.

“I will stay down here until you decide to come down and fight, I don’t care how long it takes.”

     Piccolo didn’t care either, he settled himself comfortably. This was really very entertaining, he began to wash his face and paws, what a silly pig.

End of sample.