Who Wants Cake?
By: Stitch
Author's disclaimer: Chip, Dale, Monty, Gadget, and Zipper are the property of Disney and are used here without permission. All other characters are the creation of the author. This story is not canon with 'Away From it All'.
And so it was, amidst the bustle and chatter, the dozens of multicolored balloons that squeaked together in the warm early afternoon breeze, the glittering pinwheels and fluttering paper streamers, that a red squirrel with a long bottlebrush tail and gleaming black eyes leapt up onto the picnic table, spread his arms wide and made a loud proclamation:
"My friends and fellow denizens of City Park, let's give a great big welcome to our special guests of honor, the Rescue Rangers!"
There was a momentary silence as the crowd of mice, rats, squirrels, moles, lizards, and other assorted park-dwelling critters turned to face the table. Then, as a pair of brown chipmunks, a yellow-haired mouse in a purple-gray jumpsuit, another mouse with broad, strong shoulders and a bushy reddish-brown moustache, and a small blue-green fly rose up from their chairs to take a bow, the crowd erupted in a chorus of cheers and vigorous applause.
"I'm sure I don't even need to introduce them, since there's probably not a single person here who hasn't met them. My good friends," said the squirrel as he turned around (causing the tip of his tail to fwip past the faces of the chipmunks, both of whom just barely managed to duck out of the way before getting a mouthful of tail-fur), "I think I can speak for everybody here when I say that few members of our community have done as much good in the world as you have. Take a bow, Chip!"
The chipmunk to the left, who had a small black nose and was wearing a fedora and leather jacket, blushed at his eartips and bowed.
"And Dale!"
The chipmunk to the right, who had a bigger nose that was kind of red and was sporting a loud Hawaiian shirt, grinned broadly and swept his arm down as though greeting royalty.
"And Gadget, don't be shy!"
The mouse in the jump-suit smiled self-consciously and did a sort of half-nod, half-curtsy.
"And of course Monterey Jack... Monty to his friends!"
The broad-shouldered mouse beamed and tugged at the lapels of his coat. "Well, heh heh... you know..." he muttered happily.
"And last but definitely not least, Zipper!"
"Hooray!" buzzed the little blue-green fly as he shot up into the air, waving his arms ecstatically.
"Thanks, Shorty," said Chip, speaking loudly so the people way at the back of the clearing could hear. "I can't tell you how delighted we all are that you've gone to all this trouble just for us. It means a lot to see everyone getting along so well, and if we've in some small way made your lives a little bit better, well... ah, that's great, and we're awfully happy to see you!"
Chip bowed again, a bit stiffly, and sat down.
Dale leaned over and whispered, "That was good."
"That wasn't exactly the way I rehearsed it," Chip grumbled. "I skipped out the whole middle part."
"Good thing, too," whispered Monty to Zipper. "Or we'd still be here after supper."
Zipper chuckled into his paws.
"I thought you were perfect," said Gadget as she sat down beside Chip.
"Really?" grinned Chip. "Perfect?"
"Sure," she replied, then pressed her finger to her chin and pondered. "Except for the part where you missed half of your speech, anyway."
Chip's ears drooped, but Dale draped an arm around his shoulders and beamed at him. "Aw, that's okay, I'm sure everybody got your point even without all the parts about applying deductive reasoning and following schedules and cleaning up after yourself and stuff."
"Okay, then, let's get this party started!" cried Shorty the squirrel as he leapt off the table. He spun around and gave the Rangers a thumbs-up. "I'm gonna go mingle... great speech, Chip!" Then he turned around again and dashed off into the crowd.
For the next hour, the clearing was full of laughter, loud music (provided by a trio of little gray mice armed with homemade instruments), and ice cream. The Rangers wandered among the partygoers, shaking paws and listening to folks tell stories about how Chip had once saved a little kitten from falling into a storm drain, or how Gadget had once built a contraption that put out a deadly fire and then airlifted everyone to safety, or how Monty had once rescued six orphan mice from a lab cage with his bare paws, or how Zipper had once recovered a valuable diamond by hiding it inside a walnut shell, or how Dale had once eaten an entire human-sized donut in one sitting because he suspected it might have come from an alien spaceship and he just wanted to be sure.
Everyone played party games like 'pin the tail on the cat' (Monty won) and 'guess who's nose that is?' (Dale won) and 'let's build something out of all these kazoos' (Gadget won twice). Then the grownups drank punch and laughed while the kids took turns thwacking a big purple pinata until it burst and spilled out a glittering multicolored shower of candies.
"Wow, this was a great idea," smiled Dale through a mouthful of candy.
"Dale, the candy was supposed to be for the little kids," sighed Chip.
"Well, I didn't take all of it. Just my favorite kinds. Besides, it's our party, right?"
"That doesn't mean you get to make a pig of yourself."
"Does too."
"Does not."
"Does too!"
"Does not!"
Chip and Dale wasted little time in leaping onto each other and scuffling around so fast that soon all that could be seen of them were quick flashes of arms, tails, whiskers, noses, and bright bits of Hawaiian shirt from inside the cloud of dust they were kicking up.
"Guys, you promised to be on your best behavior!" complained Gadget.
"That's the thing, Gadget," sighed Monty as he reached into the dust cloud and grabbed hold of both chipmunks by the backs of their necks. "This is their best behavior."
"Sorry, Monty," they both said sweetly as they dangled from his paws by the scruffs of their necks. Monty rolled his eyes and set them down.
Dale peered at Chip and smiled. "Hey, let's go get some balloons! I know this cool trick with static where you can stick a balloon to the back of somebody's head and they don't even know it's there, if you do it right."
Chip rolled his eyes, then thought about it for a second and smiled back at him. "Yeah, okay."
They ran off toward the picnic table to fetch some balloons. But just as they got there, Shorty the squirrel suddenly darted in front of them. "Hey, there you guys are! It's time for dessert!"
"Really?" beamed Dale. "There's more than just the candy?"
"Of course," Shorty replied proudly. "When I organized this party, I asked a bunch of folks to bring cake. And look at all the great stuff we've got!" He gestured at the picnic table, which was strewn with a half-dozen frosted cakes, another half-dozen baking pans with brownies and cookie bars in them, and a big stack of iced cupcakes.
Chip whistled. "Wow, you guys really shouldn't have. I dunno what to say."
"Aw," blushed Shorty, "it's just our way of saying thanks for all the great stuff you guys do. Besides, we're happy to share, 'cause this is one of the nicest communities you're likely to find anywhere in the whole city, right?" he cried, and was answered by a wave of cheers from the crowd.
"So then, who wants cake?" he said as he picked up a stack of plates and began passing them around.
"Maybe just a slice," smiled Chip, holding his fingers not very far apart to indicate that he didn't want a very big slice.
"This one looks good," grunted Dale as he hefted an entire cake up into his arms and started to walk away with it.
"Dale!"
"What'd I do now?" He glanced over at Chip, puzzled.
"If you eat that entire cake, I'm not letting you onto the top bunk tonight," warned Chip.
Dale gave him a downcast look, then sighed heavily and set the cake back down on the table. "Aw, what're you worried about? I only ever broke the bed that one time, and it didn't even fall down all the way," he complained.
"I get nervous enough knowing you're over my head all night, tubby. I'm not taking any chances."
"I'm not tubby!"
"Are too!"
While the chipmunks bickered, Gadget, Monty and Zipper joined the others in line to get their slices of cake. Gadget was first up to the table, so she held her plate out to Shorty, who was busy cutting slices and serving them. "How about a piece of chocolate?" she asked.
"Sounds good," agreed Shorty. He started to cut into a nearby cake. "Let's see, I think this one is... *gasp*" He froze in place, his eyes suddenly wide, paw trembling as it clutched the frosting-smeared knife.
"Ummm... are you okay?" she asked.
"This cake is strawberry." Shorty blinked several times, then leaned down to sniff at it. "Yes, definitely. Goodness." He began glancing to and fro, his whiskers sticking straight out.
"Shorty? Could I have some, uh, cake?" she asked.
But Shorty just stared down at the strawberry cake for several seconds, his brow furrowing. "Whoo. Um. Okay." He set his knife down, then stood up on a chair and turned to face the crowd. "All right, could I ask who brought this strawberry cake?"
There was a long pause, followed by a rumble of murmuring from everybody. Chip and Dale had stopped fighting and were glancing at each other, puzzled. Finally a slender brown mouse wearing a baseball cap approached the table. "Well, I did... what's up, didn't it get baked all the way?"
Shorty shook his head and leaped down from the chair. He gingerly picked up the entire strawberry cake and held it out for the brown mouse to take. Eyes wide, the mouse reached out and took it. "I'm sorry," said Shorty, "but I'm going to have to ask you to get rid of it."
"Huh?" The mouse tilted his head to one side, ears drooping.
"Uh, yeah, what's wrong, Shorty?" asked Dale tentatively.
"Guys, listen up," called Shorty as he waved his arms for attention. "I'm gonna have to make a ruling here. Strawberry cake is not allowed at this party, okay? So if you've brought any, you're going to have to come get it."
There was another long moment of silence. Then another mouse approached, glancing self-consciously around at the others, and took several of the cupcakes off the table. He slunk away, ears drooped.
"Any more? No? Good. Now then, who else wants cake? We've got chocolate, vanilla, ginger spice..."
"But Shorty," said Chip. "What on Earth is wrong with strawberry cake?"
"Look," replied Shorty gently as he dished out a slice of caramel fudge brownie, "I'm not saying there's anything wrong with strawberry cake, exactly. It's just that it clearly doesn't belong here at this party."
Dale, looking more puzzled than he had all week (which was quite a feat, considering that he'd already spent several days trying to teach himself how to build model boats), stepped forward and peered down at the cakes. "But I don't get it. Are you allergic to strawberries or somethin'?"
"Listen," sighed Shorty, "all I'm doing is trying to uphold the standards of the community. Some folks may eat strawberry cake, I don't know, but I have to consider the bigger picture here."
"Standards?" asked Gadget, baffled. "But I -* "
"I don't like strawberry cake," said a nearby mole, who had crossed his arms. "It doesn't taste good."
"Yeah," said a short gray mouse who was standing beside him.
"See?" said Shorty. "People don't like strawberry."
"Well, gee, I dunno," said a scruffy black rat who was waiting in line. "It's not my favorite flavor or anything, but don't you think this is a little much? I mean, you don't have to eat the strawberry cake if you don't want to."
"Yes, yes," sighed Shorty, "but it'd still there on the table, and let's face it, none of us really wants that. Now then..." He held up a slice of peppermint cake.
Chip pursed his lips, then stepped up beside Dale. "But -* "
"Look," snapped Shorty, "strawberry cake just isn't appropriate for this gathering. Besides, I know I've never seen any of you Rangers eat it."
"Well, gee, I dunno," shrugged Chip. "I don't think I've ever actually tried strawberry cake, but that doesn't mean -* "
"And you're not going to. Not here. Eating strawberry cake is not what you Rangers are about." Shorty thrust the plate of peppermint cake into Chip's paws.
"But I don't want peppermint..."
"Who's next?" Shorty started cutting into a marble upside down cake.
"I agree with Shorty," said a lizard in a trenchcoat who stood nearby. "I don't think you guys would ever eat strawberry cake. It's gross."
"Are you nuts?" asked a brown and white weasel as he tossed his plate back onto the table. "Who are you to say what kinda cake people can eat?"
"Yeah, it's not like folks are gonna chew with their mouths open or spit cake all over the table. I'm sure everybody can be polite about it," said the scruffy black rat.
Shorty just whistled and continued cutting cake.
"You know," said Gadget, her goggles down over her eyes and glowing green, "I just analyzed a crumb from that mouse's strawberry cupcake, and I don't think there's anything poisonous in it. I know this is your party, Shorty, but could you maybe make some room on the menu for other kinds of cake besides just the ones you like?"
"Have some chocolate chip," replied Shorty, holding up a plate.
"I just don't get what the big deal is," she said, shaking her head. "I used to like strawberry cake in college..."
Shorty glowered at her. "I'm sorry, but it's inappropriate for you to discuss that here."
Dale crossed his arms. "I like strawberry cake too."
"No, you don't," replied Shorty, "and anybody who says you do is welcome to leave."
"Oh, for crying out loud," said the weasel as he turned and began to walk away. "Listen, Rangers, I'll come visit you back at your tree, okay?"
"Uh, okay..." Chip waved after him, then turned and scowled at Shorty. "Shorty, I honestly don't know what your problem with strawberry cake is, but can't we discuss this?"
"And a nice slice of pineapple cake for you, miss," smiled Shorty as he handed a plate to a young mouse. "It's like this, Chip... I don't want strawberry cake here not just because I don't like it. Look at this adorable little moppet here. Do you really want her to know that there are people in this world who enjoy strawberry cake?"
"What're you, on some crusade to protect the world from strawberry cake?" grumbled Monty as he set down a half-eaten slice of cheesecake.
"Of course not," said Shorty. "If people want to eat strawberry cake, they're welcome to go somewhere else and do it. Just not at my party. I'm sorry, but this is the fairest decision I can come up with. Now, since the matter is closed..." he held up a slice of orange cake.
"Aw, I don't want cake anymore," growled Dale as he tossed his fork onto the table. "I'm gonna go back to the tree and have some cookies. Strawberry cookies!" he added, then spun on his heels and marched away.
"I'm with you... come on, guys," sighed Chip. He, Gadget, Monty, and Zipper all marched past the table and began to follow Dale. "Listen, folks," he called out to everybody, "thank you so much for this wonderful party, but we've got to get going. You're all welcome to visit us anytime at the Ranger Tree, or if you see us around town or at the store or something! Bye!" They disappeared into the undergrowth. A moment later came the sound of the Ranger Wing's engine being started.
"Huh," mumbled Shorty. "Well, bye, guys! May the road be kind
to you!" he called. Then he cut himself a big slice of peach cake.