EMOTIONAL STORYTELLING

“Bam, bam, bam, bam bam, bam!” rang out aggressively from the orchestra pit. The drumming abruptly stopped to make way for the start of an instrument-less performance.

Curt and Tan flew open to expose six angry coyotes sitting in a semi-circle with their arms crossed and their hackles up. Their eyes narrowed as they glared out at the audience. In concert, they flared their nostrils, gave hard snorts, and shouted, “We are The Rowdy Howlers!”

The first coyote unfolded her arms and pounded her paw on the stage floor. The second coyote unfolded his arms and pounded his paw on the stage floor as the first coyote let out, “Bark!”

“Pound, Bark! Pound, Bark! Pound, Bark!” rang out the rhythm as it went through the semi-circle. Teeth were bared in ferocious snarls as the song grew.

“Growl, Bark, Growl, Bark, Pound!” started the coyotes at one end as the rhythm returned. “Growl, Bark, Growl, Bark, Pound!”

Seamlessly, the coyotes tied the two parts together. “Growl, Bark, Pound! Growl, Bark, Pound! Growl, Bark, Growl, Bark, Pound! Growl, Bark, Growl, Bark, Pound! Growl, Bark, Pound! Growl, Bark, Pound!”

The coyotes advanced forward, stomping their paws and flicking their tails until they were at the edge of the stage. They flashed their fangs and let out their angriest, “HOWL!”

The audience soaked up the emotion, and everyone returned an enraged, “HOWL!”

Dan, Dandy, and Danny joined in and let out, “HOWL!”

Danielle bellowed out her own angry, “ROAR!”

The response drove the coyotes into a frenzy of howling and jousting as they celebrated a performance so excellently received. Fur flew and fangs showed as they turned and trotted through the closing curtains.

Whimsical woodwinds whistled from the orchestra as the curtains opened to a towering nine-tier cake sitting center stage. The cake started to spin on its lazy Susan. As it came around, the audience could see Bevan the Beaver sitting on the edge of the lazy Susan and maneuvering it with one leg like he was pushing a merry-go-round. He stopped it from turning when he got in front of the audience and jumped off. His large, white chef’s hat wobbled, and he smashed it back in place.

Bevan tapped his flat, broad tail on the stage to attract more attention before he spoke. “I am the Head Pastry Chef and owner of The Waffle Tail Bakery. I have prepared for you today a nine-tier cake that I will frost and decorate before serving a slice to each and every one of you.”

Mysha read the words being translated by the squirrel, and her anticipation grew. She signed, “Eeek! I can’t wait! I love cake so much!”

“Me too!” the squirrel signed back.

Bevan set the cake back in motion on the lazy Susan. He used his flat, broad tail to scoop out fluffy, white frosting and evenly coat the first layer. Working from the bottom and riding the cake to the top, he described his proprietary flavors to the audience. “This heavenly mix is my award-winning frosting recipe made from the rare Yellow Wonder wild strawberries that grow here in the forest. The layers of this cake are an exotic blend of Pink Eureka lemons and imported Madagascar vanilla beans.” The anticipation of tasting something so unique made the audience salivate. Bevan patted the frosting down with his tail as he descended the cake, leaving a repetitive, diamond-shaped imprint as his signature mark. He then went to work on decorating his creation, using several vibrant colors of frosting in piping bags. He designed flowers so lifelike, the audience would have thought they were real if they had not just seen them squeezed onto the cake. Wild roses, frilly peonies, pointy tulips, and giant sunflowers connected to long vines that wrapped around woody twigs. They supported clusters of plump blackberries all leading to two tropical birds in a moss-lined nest on the top tier. It was a magnificent work of edible art.

When Bevan finished, he climbed down and gave the cake one final spin to show off its splendor. The audience gazed up at his creation with an insatiable craving. The anticipation of tasting it brought them to the edge of their chairs. “I present to you my nine-tier, pink lemonade cake with Yellow Wonder wild strawberry frosting. Now, who wants a taste?”

The audience, unable to contain their desire any longer, chanted, “We want cake! We want cake! We want cake!” Bevan climbed to the top tier. He used his tail as both a knife and a catapult to cut slices and launch them into the audience.

The first slice landed in the lap of a large, brown bear sitting in the back row. He took a deep sniff and then crammed the entire slice into his mouth. His face lit up with delight, and he gleefully moaned, “Yummm.”

Anticipation for cake overtook the crowd. A wonderfully sweet aroma wafted through the theater. Satisfied praises filled the air as slices of cake flew through the dome at a steady pace. As the beaver reached the bottom layer, he looked out at the audience to see if anyone had yet to be served. Muso raised his hoof and signaled that he and Rory had yet to receive a slice. Rory could smell the delicious aroma and was eager for a slice of his own. Bevan cut an extra wide piece that held a beautifully-piped pink peony and launched it toward the boys. Muso picked up Rory and raised him above his head. “Ready to catch it?” he asked.

Rory raised his arms and responded, “Ready!” He knew Muso would get him in the perfect spot for an easy catch. As the cake flew in, Muso did just that. “Got it!” Rory reveled. Muso lowered Rory and the cake down to his lap. Rory broke the slice in half and raised Muso’s share. “Let’s try it together on the count of three,” Rory suggested. “One! Two! Three!” They both bit into the cake at the same time.

“Unbelievably tasty!” squealed Muso as tiny crumbs of cake fell from his long face.

“There are no words in the entire dictionary to describe how happy my taste buds are right now,” Rory said as he licked icing from his fingertips.

Bevan, seeing nothing but satisfied faces in the audience, announced, “For more tasty treats, be sure to visit The Waffle Tail Bakery often!”

Curt and Tan began to close as shouts of “So delicious!” and “Bravo, chef!” came from the crowd.

Lester sprinted onto stage, winded and noticeably giddy, before the curtains fully closed. “I can’t wait a second longer! Let’s get this cake backstage! I’d like an extra wide slice, please!” He picked up the lazy Susan and gestured for Bevan to follow him. Bevan, with a wide grin, gathered up his frosting containers and followed Lester. As they exited, MGB took the stage.