Chip Maplewood and the Last Cherryade
By: Stainless Steel Rat
(The ‘munk in the hat is back, and this time he’s brought his… well okay then, Monty’s dad! A side story to ‘Parental Discretion Retired’. Did Cheddarhead Charlie and Chip ever really work out their differences? Let’s find out. Astute observers may once again recognise subtle homages to a certain trilogy of action movies.)
&&&
Chip Maplewood slowly lowered the Rangerplane to the ground in a clearing on the far side of the park from the Treehouse. Though a more accurate term for his home would be Madhouse, since Monty’s parents came to stay. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, they were clearly good people, but just that they were so… outgoing they ended up carrying you with them, usually to places you’d rather not have gone.
The morning run had turned up no missions or adventures, so the Rangers were having a day off. Gadget was in an inventing frenzy, and much as he’d have liked to stand around and hold her spanners for her, the gleam in her eye boded unintentional ill for anybody caught in the… he couldn’t help but finish the sentence with ‘blast radius’.
The others were watching TV, ‘America’s loudest Monster Truck crashes.’ so he’d decided to go off and find a quiet place where he could re-read ‘The Case of the Caseless Cello.’ one of his favourite Sureluck Jones mysteries. There had been a light rain first thing in the morning, but now it was a great summer’s day and the entire park smelled of fresh grass, and summer flowers.
He carefully adjusted his pilot’s seat to recline slightly, placed a pitcher of acorn juice and a dolls house glass within easy reach, settled back, picked up his book and started to read…
‘It was late in the year of 1895, and Jones and I…’
“HEY LAD!”
The book went flying, landed on the co-pilot seat ejector lever, which flipped the jug and glass into the air to bounce off the balloon and onto Chip. He hauled himself up and removed the jug, getting a drenching from the remains of the juice, as his soaked fedora drooped down on each side of his head.
Cheddarhead Charlie’s head popped up over the side. “This is no toime to be taking a bath, lad. You want ta be up and doin’!”
“Charlie!” Chip yelled, then counted to 10 in chipmunk, then in mousese. He let out a deep calming sigh, then said. “I thought you were watching the TV with everyone else.”
“Nah lad, those trucks are nothin’ compared to seeing two blue whales buttin’ ‘eads. So I went for a const’tutional-sorta walk.”
Chip had his fedora off and shook it out over the side, getting it into shape again. “Well, I came here for a quiet read…”
“You don’t want ta do too much o’ that lad. Reading rots the brain. Ya get out of shape, and yer reflexes slow down…”
Chip was about to reply, when he heard a quiet sound, as if someone was sobbing. He put his finger to his muzzle, and bounded down out of the plane. Cheddarhead Charlie yelled, “Roight behind you!” and immediately charged out in front, out of the bushes that screened the glade.
The crying was coming from a girl of not more than 4 or 5 years, sitting huddled with her back to one of the trees that formed the edge of the copse they were in. She was wearing neat, colourful but currently muddied clothes. There were no other humans around, and there wasn’t any obvious cause of distress. Chip observed her from the cover of the bushes for a second, wondering if she was lost, and how to get her back to her family if so. Cheddarhead, however, hadn’t gotten the whole ‘stealth’ thing and simply stomped out into the open, making enough noise to attract the girls attention.
Chip was ready to run out and drag him away if she turned out to be afraid of mice, or worse one of those grabby kids who would pick you up like a doll, but she simply sniffled and said curiously, “Hello, who are you?”
The murine adventurer held the edges of his waistcoat with his paws, and proudly said, “Cheddarhead Charlie’s me name, and adventures me game!”
Chip recognised the signs; this girl was a Speaker. Not that it was that surprising; most very young kids had the ability. However almost all of them lost it by the time they started pre-school. He stepped out into the open, and touched a paw to his hat, and said, “And I’m Chip Maplewood. Why were you crying, miss?”
“That mean boy pushed me over and stole my soda!”
Chip got the story out of her with occasional ‘help’ from Cheddarhead. The girl, Marie, had come to the park with her mother and bought the very last bottle of Coo Coo Clear Cherry soda from a vendor’s cart with her first pocket money. She’d wandered off to look at the flowers, and while no one was looking this bigger boy had come up, snatched the bottle and pushed her into the flowerbed. She’d only gotten a glimpse of him as he came up to her, by the time she’d gotten back up, he was gone. Now she was worried that her mother would scold her if she went back with her new dress all muddy, and of course she was unhappy about having her soda stolen.
Cheddarhead Charlie was suitably incensed. “The bloomin’ blighter! ‘e needs a good smackin’ around the ear’ole, ‘e does.”
Chip might sometimes wish for bigger cases, but this wasn’t one of them. Not only was he a gold plated sucker for crying females of any species, but he agreed completely with Cheddarhead. “Don’t worry, Marie. We’ll find this walnut brain and get back your soda!”
Marie looked happier, but puzzled, “But you’re not the police. What can you do?”
Chip smiled. “The best we can. We’re the Rescue Rangers, and we solve mysteries and stop crimes the police can’t. This should be easy enough.”
The girl was wide eyed. “Golly, really?”
“Yes, but first we need to see the scene of the crime.”
Cheddarhead was looking impatient. “C’mon mate, lets just go and _get_ this low-down larrikin!” He started to stomp off.
Chip just folded his arms and stood there. “Searching the park on paw will take forever, and we don’t have a good description. We need to track this guy down.”
Cheddarhead stopped in place, but only for a second. “Yer right, me bucko. Just as well I ‘appen to be a champion tracker.”
“Good. We can cover ground faster with the Rangerplane, but how to get there without arousing suspicion…” He looked up at the girl. “I think we’ll need your help too.”
&&&
As they went off into the bushes to fetch the Rangerplane, Cheddarhead Charlie exclaimed, “This could be more fun than the toime I found the lost city of the Egyptian Egrets. Of course, after I found it, they weren’t lost any more. Now the female egrets all loiked me ‘cause they could go shopping again, but some of the males didn’t since they suddenly got bills for their back taxes… or it may have been back taxes for their bills. Now some o’ the lasses helped me escape, we even had a roight jolly air battle with some of the blokes on the way…”
“So you escaped using an egress?” Chip winced and decided to lay something out as they got in the plane. “We don’t have time to get any of the others, so it’s just you and me on this case. This is going to be detective work, not a treasure hunt. We’re searching for facts, not adventure. We’ll hopefully just track the bully down, swoop in and snatch the bottle back. No ruined remains, aerial dogfights, fiendish booby traps or ancient maps, and ‘X’ never, ever, marks the spot! Now either I do it alone or we work together.”
“Teamwork ain’t really my style, mate…”
Chip managed to interrupt for once. “I know you usually work alone, but could you try and work with me just this once? For the sake of helping Marie?”
Cheddarhead settled down in the back. “Well, all roight, Junior reckons you do a good job. Very well mate, nevah let it be said, ol’ Cheddarhead can’t ‘elp out.”
The wings of the Rangerplane started flapping and it lifted off the ground. Chip said, “Thanks, Charlie…” Then he asked, “Junior?”
The Australian mouse replied, “That’s me little walleroo’s given name, Charles Colby Junior. Me luv Katie always calls ‘im that.”
Chip’s brow furrowed. “How come he calls himself Monterey Jack?”
Cheddarhead chuckled. “‘Cause that was the first sort of cheese he ever tasted. Brings back fond memories, it does.”
&&&
The Rangerplane was moving, but not under it’s own power. Marie was walking along, carrying it as if she was playing. This meant she didn’t get a glance from the adults she passed. If they noticed the two animals in the seats, they assumed they were stuffed toys.
As they approached the place where the ambush had happened, Chip was looking carefully. There were some flattened flowers, where Marie had fallen, and there were shoe prints in the soft earth that didn’t match hers.
“Could you put us down, over here, Marie?” he said, pointing to a spot next to it. He bounded out, closely followed by Cheddarhead. "You see what I see?”
“If you mean the blighter’s shoe prints, then yeah. They’ve got an X pattern on the sole. Kinda loike X marks the spot.”
Chip sighed. “Okay, I give you that, this time X does mark the spot.” He was casting around, using his magnifying glass. “If he’d gone off across the flower bed, or the grass on the far side of the path, he’d have left a track, so he must have… aha!”
He held up a cross-shaped piece of mud, found on the path in the direction they’d been going. Cheddarhead nodded, “Roight lad, he went that way.”
Chip nodded slightly, then said, “We’ve still got to track him down. I say we move along the path, and look at both sides for those types of shoe prints. That’ll show us where he went off, and hopefully give us a trail.”
“Just the way I’d be doin’ it, lad.” agreed Cheddarhead.
&&&
More carrying of the Rangerplane and they ended up at a fork in the path. “Forks… why is it always forks!” Chip muttered. The left hand path lead deeper into the park, the other back towards the entrance. They could tell this because there was a metal sign with a map on it, thought they had to go around to left to read it.
“Well lad, I don’t know ‘ow we’re goin’ ta find the blighter now…”
Chip grinned. “I do. This is the path we go down.”
Marie was listening in, and asked, “But how do you know?”
“The sign. It’s been swivelled round; it should be crosswise, so that people coming to the fork can read it. Look at the bottom left, someone kicked it, and left a slight mark there, fresh from the colour of the dirt and roughly cross shaped.”
There were two blank looks. Chip added. “Don’t you see? Our perp came down this path, headed down the left-hand path, and on his way decided to do a bit of mindless vandalism. Since he was on the left hand path, he kicked the left side, spinning it round to the left.”
“Gosh, you really are a great detective!” exclaimed Marie.
“Not at all bad mate!” Cheddarhead added.
Chip didn’t tell them it was similar to a classic clue in the Sureluck Jones story he’d been about to read.
They followed the path, and sure enough, there was a large clearing, screened by trees, and in it was a boy of about 11 years. He was big with a crew cut and mean, piggy eyes, and wearing a Detroit Lions tee shirt. There was a large hamper and a spread out cloth covered with the remains of a picnic feast even he couldn’t have eaten by himself. He was kneeling and fiddling with something hidden behind the hamper.
Marie immediately ducked behind a tree and said, “That’s him! That’s the meanie!” She sounded scared.
“Toime for good punch up!” Cheddarhead exclaimed, standing up in the back seat.
“Not so fast! Our first priority is those bottles by the hamper. Coo Coo Clear Cola. One of them lime, the other cherry by the colour of the labels. We’ll fly in, snag the cherry one and get it back to Marie, then we can think about punishing him.”
The Rangerplane flew up into the air, zooming high for an initial reconnaissance. As they circled, Chip looked down on the bully and exclaimed, “Uhoh! We’re about to have company!”
“What is it lad?” Cheddarhead asked, looking in the same direction. The answer quickly presented itself. The bully had stood up, holding a radio controller, and beside him was a scale model of a German WW2 fighter, which zoomed into the air and towards them.
“There should be one of Gadget’s plunger crossbows under the back seat!” called out Chip. “Try and hit the front as it buzzes us. It’ll stick, foul the prop!”
Cheddarhead reached under the seat and found the crossbow. He pulled it out just as Chip yelled, “11 o’clock.”
Cheddarhead looked over Chip’s shoulder at the watch dial on the control panel. “What ‘appens then?”
“No…” Chip manoeuvred violently as the radio controlled fighter nearly sliced their balloon in two. Fortunately the Rangerplane was far more agile then it would appear. “Just shoot it next time it comes at us!”
Cheddarhead looked around and saw the fighter circling to make another pass. He looked at his plunger tipped ammo. “I’ll nevah get it with this…” he muttered, and pulled off the plunger. Two quick nibbles and it was sharpened to a point.
“I’m taking us lower, get ready!” Chip called, and put the Rangerplane in a dive.
The fighter was diving after them, and gaining ground. Cheddarhead swung the crossbow up, aimed and… twang! The wooden spear flew straight and true into the nose of the RC plane, and not having a plunger to stick to it, pinged off the hard plastic. It ricocheted straight back at the Rangerplane and hit the balloon, which popped with enthusiasm.
“I didn’t see it get that close!” called out Chip, “Did he hit us with something?”
Cheddarhead debated with himself for a fraction of a second. Well it _had_ rebounded from the fighter. “Yes lad, he got us!”
“And he’s still gaining!” Chip pulled a lever, and the low whirr of the clockwork got louder. “Without the balloon, we can only stay up a few minutes before the clockwork runs down. When I land, you should jump clear!”
Cheddarhead misheard over the noise. “Jump from here? Ain’t it kinda high?”
Chip heard more clearly. “Jump from here! Are you cuh’razy?”
Cheddarhead suddenly chuckled as an idea struck. “Loike a fox lad. Call it leap of faith, ‘cause I’m betting you can get me close enough to that Lion’s ‘ead to jump onto it. I still got an ear’oling to ‘and out!”
Chip was still diving, hoping to get enough speed to outrun the fighter, and adjusted his direction to suit. If Cheddarhead could distract the brat for long enough… “Sounds like a plan!”
Cheddarhead smirked as he called back, “Now lad, there’s no need to be insultin’!”
Chip tried to ignore the feeling that any second the Rangerplane’s tail would be chewed up by the fighter, and focussed on the expanding crew cut… any second… “GO!”
The big mouse leapt over the side and made a perfect 4 point landing on the guy’s head. The Lions fan yelled and dropped the remote. Chip was too busy to notice as he pushed and hauled on the controls to pull out of the plunge he was in. At the very last moment, the wings went vertical, and moved him into a grass cutting flight across the abandoned picnic lunch.
The RC plane wasn’t so lucky. It crashed at full speed into a pile of discarded plastic plates and cutlery, sending plates in all directions, and flipping silverware straight into the air. Chip landed near the bottles that were their goal. Without the balloon, the Rangerplane hadn’t the lift to simply haul it away. He’d have to roll it to safety. As he jumped out of his seat, several forks dropped down, tines first. Chip didn't like needles at the best of times, and these were of the 'kill or skewer' variety. One plunging into the pilots seat he'd just vacated.
“Not forks again!” he yelled to the heavens. “Why is it always… Yipes!” He dodged to one side as a bread knife struck where he’d been, and stood there quivering. Chip felt like a bit of quivering himself, but he had a job to do. Cheddarhead was having fun, clambering around the kids head, boxing him around the ears, en passant as the big bozo tried frantically to grab him.
He made his way across the ruins of the picnic, dodging between cups and the formless blocky shapes of left over food. He’d almost reached the bottles, and was passing a still standing wedge of cheese, when the kid managed to grab hold of Cheddarhead and fling him down. He landed in the soft cheese and plunged through on a diagonal, landing on the other side, and on Chip.
He sat up and groaned. “Genuine British Blue Vein Stilton. Oh, it breaks the ‘eart, it does.”
Chip groaned too, but it was slightly muffled. “And the head. Could you get off me?”
“I'll nevah forgive meself…” Cheddarhead said mournfully, getting up and picking up a morsel of the ruined cheese.
Chip levered himself up. “Don't worry, I'm all right.”
Cheddarhead sighed with relief, examining the cheese. “Thank ‘eavens... it's fake. See, you can tell with the cross sections… Yow!”
The kid had picked him up by the tail and was holding him in front of his nose. Cheddarhead immediately took a swing at it. The kid yelled, “My plane! You made me wreck my new plane! Just for that I’m going to take you home, tie you to a rocket and make you the first mouse in space!”
Chip watched aghast. He had to save Cheddarhead, but how? He looked around and spotted the Cherryade bottle that was the cause of all this and its mate. Both were clear, for easier recycling, as was the liquid within, the only way of telling them apart were the plastic labels… that would work!
He was already moving towards the bottles. The bully was warming up on what else he was going to do to Monty’s father before making him a one way astronaut, when he felt a stabbing pain in his shin.
“Stop it! You big bully!” Marie was there, and looking mad. “He was helping me! You can have my Cherryade, but let him go!”
“I already got your Cherryade,” the goon sneered, “and for wrecking my plane, I’ll get you next…” He stopped as he heard a definite clink from by the hamper. Chip was standing there, defiantly, both bottles on their sides, and ready to spill at a turn of the cap. The juvenile thug threw Cheddarhead at the girl, who caught him quite neatly, and rounded on Chip.
“Why does everyone stop me having Cherryade?” He whined. “My rotten family left me the Lime, and I hate Lime, and now you… Well, you and you trained animals ain’t going to get it!” He reached down and picked up the Cherryade bottle, unscrewed the cap in a single motion and glugged most of it down in a single swallow. Then his face changed to a sickly green, and he started coughing and spluttering. “Uaaaaagggggh! Lime! I hate lime!” He stomped up and down in an absolute tantrum.
Chip quickly rolled the ‘Limeade’ bottle over to by the Rangerplane and waved to Marie. “While he’s whining, let’s get away!”
Marie nodded, and carefully put Cheddarhead in the back seat of the Rangerplane, while Chip bounded into the front seat, then grabbed plane and bottle and ran away as fast as possible.
Later, in the original glade, Chip was checking over Cheddarhead, with Marie watching anxiously on. “He seems alright, just a bit dazed…”
“Who’s dazed, Chippah?” Cheddarhead sat up, and then put his paw to his head. “Maybe I’ll just sit a spell, not that I need it, ya understand.”
“But what happened?” asked Marie. “I saw him pick up the Cherryade bottle.”
Chip grinned. “He chose… poorly. I knew threatening the bottle would make him forget Charlie, so I switched the labels. I’m just glad they weren’t the old paper sort.”
Cheddarhead laughed. “That was a roight bonzer trick you pulled, saved my tail at least… beggin’ your pardon miss.”
“It’s fine, I’m sorry I put you to such trouble, and you lost your balloon.”
Chip shook his head. “We can get another balloon. It was very brave of you to join in.”
“Well the way you both took on that big meanie, I had to do it.” She unscrewed the cap of the bottle and filled it with Cherryade. “Would you like to share it? It’s the least I can do.”
She looked so hopeful; neither of them could refuse. They each took gulps from the cap, which was as large as a small saucepan to them.
Chip suddenly realised something. “Hey Charlie, that’s the first time you called me by name!”
Charlie looked thoughtful, then grinned. “I guess it is, ‘Chippah’. Seems like callin’ you just mate or lad isn’t really roight anymore. Y’know, maybe I could get used to this teamwork thing.”
“You did more than your fair share on this one yourself. I guess sometimes you _do_ have to act first and fast, rather than miss the opportunity. Well, Marie found her Cherryade, and overcame her fear, and I guess you did find an adventure after all.”
Cheddarhead shook his head, but carefully, so it wouldn’t fall off. “More like it found me, Chippah.”
Chip looked right at him. “So what did you find, Charlie?”
Cheddarhead thumped his chest with his paw, and then burped long and loud. “Me? Carbonation.”
Authors Note: This started out as a very silly idea, and got progressively sillier as I went along. But the more I worked on it, the more I found ways that quotes from the film could be used in the story. For example Camembert Kate does call Monty Junior at the end of ‘Parental Discretion Retired.’ Nicknames like Cheeser appear to be fanon. Of course if someone knows different, I’d like to know too.
This does mean I have to find a premise for the logical third story in this, which should actually be the first. It has to relate to a canon episode of CDRR, as either a deleted scene or side story. The title will be ‘Rangers of the Lost Car Park.’ Whoever comes up with the premise I use will be rewarded with a cameo appearance in it. Though I don't know if that's a reward or punishment.