Chapter 1
Flying Watermelon
‘Shut up,’ whispered Little Foxy, crouching in the darkness.
‘You need to watch your manners,’ whispered his brother, F-F-Foxy.
They crouched low in their hiding place, keeping their eyes glued to the hare hopping up the mountain.
‘You’re panting too loud,’ whispered Little Foxy.
F-F-Foxy shoved his brother’s face into the snow and held him down.
‘Hey, Losers!’ The mountain hare hopped straight to the foxes. He pulled F-F-Foxy in to him. Mmmwua. He kissed F-F-Foxy’s cheek. Mmmwua. Another kiss on his other cheek. He did the same to Little Foxy, cause that’s how dudes say hello in France.
F-F-Foxy’s hungry eyes went all the way up and all the way down the hare’s body. ‘You’re skinny, but not too skinny to eat.’
Henri Le Hare shook his head. His hare ears shot up out of two holes in his helmet. ‘Nuh-uh! Nighttime rules, Dude,’ he said, tapping his snowboard.
‘I could catch you, in the daytime,’ said F-F-Foxy. He was wearing a helmet too. So was Little Foxy. Their triangular ears poked out of holes.
Henri Le Hare danced in the snow. He sang, ‘You’re too slow, you’re too slow, you’re too slow!’
Chamois Luc trotted in. ‘Evening, Gentlemen!’
Chamois Luc looked like a goat, but he was bigger than a goat, and cooler too. Fat black stripes ran up both sides of his face, covering his eyes, giving him a ”masked look.”
The hare pointed and said, ‘Hey! Where’s your helmet?’
‘Ears and horns. I’m not doing it,’ said Chamois Luc, stamping his hoof into the snow. His snowboard hung from his furry neck by a thick rope made out of bark. It had a picture of a robot chamois on it. ‘Where’s Puppy Bébé?’
End of sample
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