Hollywood Showdown Read online

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  For Oliver and Daniel Downing

  ~ G P J

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Teaser

  Questions for the Author

  Copyright

  The story you hold in your hands takes place in the glamorous world of Hollywood—home to the movies, and their stars. Which got me thinking about these words, penned by the great romantic poet Theo Dovelove:

  Oh, how I long for glamour and glitz. Instead I’ve a headache and a bad case of nits.

  Theo was a vole, who often appeared on the cover of Furry Poet Pinups. You could say he was a vole model. What is the point of me telling you this? I have no idea. Really, I should be introducing you to the Clan of the Scorpion …

  Four ninja meerkats, all fearless warriors, ever willing to risk their lives in order to save our planet from its most dangerous enemy, the Ringmaster.

  Jet Flashfeet: a super-fast ninja whose only fault is craving the glory he so richly deserves.

  Bruce “the muscle” Willowhammer: the strongest of the gang, though in the brain race he lags somewhat behind.

  Donnie Dragonjab: a brilliant mind, inventor, and master of gadgets.

  Chuck Cobracrusher: his clear leadership has saved the others’ skins more times than I care to remember.

  Oh, and me, Grandmaster One-Eye: as old and wise as the sand dunes themselves.

  You may recall that in their last adventure, the Clan learned that their deadly foe, the Ringmaster, was somewhere on the West Coast of America. As we catch up with them now, they have just arrived at Los Angeles International Airport, not far from Hollywood itself, which brings to mind another of Theo’s poems:

  My favorite movies are action-packed,

  with excitement and big laughs.

  But I don’t like those in black and white,

  or films about giraffes.

  But now it’s time for the story of …

  HOLLYWOOD SHOWDOWN.

  Hundreds of planes arrive at Los Angeles International Airport every day, bringing tourists from around the world to the city. They come to soak up sunshine, glamour, and excitement, and to visit the city’s most famous district: Hollywood. It was on one such plane that Chuck, Donnie, Jet, and Bruce (otherwise known as the Clan of the Scorpion) had arrived, hidden in an overhead luggage compartment. They were now making their way across the airport arrivals hall, heading for the exit.

  You might think that four ninja meerkats walking through a bustling airport would cause something of a stir. But the Clan moved around undetected, thanks to one of Donnie’s cunning disguises. As far as the humans were concerned, all they could see was a child in a pair of baggy jeans and a hooded top. Inside the outfit, however, were four meerkats, balanced on each other’s shoulders.

  Bruce Willowhammer, the strongest of the team, was at the bottom of the pile, and had his furry feet strapped to a pair of stilts. On his shoulders were Jet Flashfeet and Donnie Dragonjab, whose trademark bag of gadgets was strapped to his back. Jet and Donnie were each operating one of the child disguise’s arms, opening doors, pressing elevator buttons, and, at one point, batting away an over-friendly dog. At the top of the stack was Chuck Cobracrusher, the leader of the group, his face hidden inside the hooded top.

  The only problem with this arrangement was that it meant Bruce was in control of where the Clan went.

  And Bruce was easily distracted.

  As he strode across the arrivals hall, he peered through a pair of eyeholes at the top of the jeans. “Hey, that’s Vin Pain!” he exclaimed, spotting a TV screen showing an entertainment news program. He quickly changed direction and headed for the TV.

  “Bruce, remember our mission,” warned Chuck. “We need to find out where the Ringmaster is, and what he is up to!”

  “Who’s Vin Pain?” asked Jet, folding down a specially designed pocket flap in the hoodie so he could see the TV too.

  “Sounds like something you’d tell the doctor about,” said Donnie. “Ooh, I’ve got a nasty Vin Pain all down my back.”

  “Who’s Vin Pain?” exclaimed Bruce. “Only the best action hero in the world, that’s who! Haven’t you seen Blown to Pieces? What about The Smash-up Man or Big Guns and Loud Bangs? Brilliant films. Some of them are really clever too.”

  The TV showed a clip from a film in which Vin Pain was jumping across the tops of cars hurtling down a busy highway, while dodging a storm of bullets that rained down on him from a helicopter.

  “Yeah, looks really clever,” said Donnie sarcastically.

  “Bruce, we do not have time to watch TV right now. We need to keep moving,” Chuck called down.

  “Vin does all his own stunts and everything,” said Bruce, ignoring Chuck.

  “Ha,” snorted Jet. “I bet he can’t do a Super Looping Somersault Leap. That’s my new move. I read about it in How to Flatten Your Enemies and Beat People.”

  “Shhh!” said Bruce. “Vin’s about to say his trademark line.”

  On the screen, a building burst into flames for no good reason. Standing in front of it, the muscle-bound star turned to the camera and said in a gruff voice, “Things are getting rough around here … so I’m about to get tough.”

  “Brilliant,” said Bruce, clapping his paws excitedly, causing the others to wobble precariously above him.

  Chuck tutted. “The Way of the Scorpion teaches us not to engage in such showy displays. Calmness and serenity are our goals. We should only lift a paw to fight when we have no other choice.”

  “Actually, that was pretty cool, Chuck,” said Jet.

  “Why does everything always burst into flames in Hollywood films?” sighed Donnie.

  On the TV, a female reporter with alarmingly white teeth filled the screen. “Action hero Vin Pain is used to saying how things are getting rough, but in Vin’s next film it’s a case of things going woof.” She smirked, then continued. “Why? Because Vin’s new co-star is a dog. Her name? Doris the Dancing Dog.” The screen showed the familiar face of Doris, the Ringmaster’s faithful canine companion.

  “So, Doris is a movie star now,” said Chuck. “Most interesting…”

  The picture changed to show Doris having her photo taken alongside Vin Pain on the red carpet at a film premiere.

  “The film’s title is a closely guarded secret and very little is known about the canine newcomer,” continued the reporter, “except that she is currently being trained at the Real Academy of Dog Actors, or RADA for short. The acting school is run by celebrity dog-trainer Honor Longlead, who joins us now.”

  The TV showed another smiling woman with equally white teeth.

  “So, Honor,” said the reporter, “is Doris the Dancing Dog a superstar in the making?”

  “Absolutely. Doris is a very talented pup,” she replied. “She’s been circus trained, but you should see her during the fight scenes. She’s a natural.”

  “I bet she is,” muttered Jet. The Clan of the Scorpion had come up against Doris on more than one occasion and had the scars to prove it.

  “Well, we look forward t
o seeing her in action! Thanks, Honor. That’s it for this week’s edition of Hollywood Spotlight. Or should I say, Hollywoof Spotlight?” The presenter smiled and moved on to the next item. “Coming up after the break, we’ll be discussing why the U.S. president flew into L.A. this morning along with his super-cute pet sausage dog, Chip O’Lata. Some are saying it’s a popularity-boosting trip before the beginning of election season next month…”

  Bruce turned away from the screen and headed for the exit.

  “Well, Bruce, it would appear that your love of film has given us our first lead,” said Chuck, “and it is a dog lead. We will head straight for this acting school. The Ringmaster is sure to be behind Doris’s newfound fame, so he won’t be far away…”

  “Can we go and see where Vin made Dynamite for Dinner later? And the sequel, Destruction for Dessert?” asked Bruce.

  “Once we have defeated the Ringmaster, perhaps,” Chuck replied. “Until then, we must be like movie cameras, and stay focused.”

  Outside the airport, dozens of people lined up for buses and taxis to take them into the city. Bruce weaved his way down the pavement, trying not to bump into anyone.

  “RADA is located in the Hollywood Hills,” said Donnie, looking up the address on his specially modified smartphone.

  “Great. Which way do we go?” said Jet.

  “North, but this city is far too big to get there on foot,” Donnie replied.

  “I have an idea,” said Chuck. “Bruce, head for that blue bus.”

  “Can’t we get something to eat first?” asked Bruce, making his way toward the bus, which had the words ALL ACCESS HOLLYWOOD STAR TOURS on its side. “How about a hot dog, or a hamburger, a bag of popcorn, some French fries…”

  “Bruce, you must learn to think with something other than your stomach,” said Chuck.

  “Why?” said Donnie. “It is the biggest organ in his body.”

  “Hey, I may get hungry, but I’ve never eaten anything as big as an organ,” complained Bruce. He joined the line that had formed by the bus.

  The door opened and a red-faced man with a huge smile appeared.

  “Welcome to the All Access Hollywood Star Tour, the quickest, easiest, and cheapest way to soak up the glamour of Hollywood!” he shouted. “I’m Duane Schneebly, your driver and host. Please hand your tickets to me as you get on board.”

  “We haven’t got a ticket,” whispered Jet.

  “Leave it to me,” said Chuck.

  “Can I see your ticket, son?” Duane asked when they reached the front of the line and clambered up the steps of the bus.

  “My mother’s got it—she’s already on board,” said Chuck, making no effort to sound like a child. “Will you be visiting RADA today?”

  “We sure will.” Duane peered down at the hooded boy. “Where are you from, kid? I can’t place your accent.”

  “A secret location in a remote part of the Red Desert,” Chuck replied.

  “Oh, riiight…” Duane smiled and patted Chuck on the head. “Go on, you go find your mama now.”

  The meerkats found a seat at the back of the bus. They waited until the tourists were distracted by the bus pulling out of the station before stealthily climbing out of their disguise. The bus headed toward central Los Angeles, driving down busy, broad highways lined with billboards promoting the latest movies and biggest TV shows. But the meerkats missed all of this, remaining hidden under the seats at Chuck’s insistence.

  “Can’t I have a quick peek out of the window?” said Bruce. “I’ll be really careful.”

  “No, it is too risky,” said Chuck.

  As the bus drove into the district of Hollywood itself, past dozens of fast-food venues and huge shopping malls, Duane kept the passengers amused with stories about famous people he had met and movies that had been filmed in the city. When they pulled up outside an elaborate Chinese building, he explained that this was a cinema where all the biggest stars had their hands and footprints pressed into the concrete paving stones outside. He brought the bus to a halt and everyone climbed off to have a look around. Bruce immediately scooted about under the seats, looking for discarded snacks.

  “Bruce,” said Chuck, watching him tuck into a packet of chips. “As ninjas trained in the Way of the Scorpion, we should not pollute our bodies with junk food.”

  “We’re meerkats,” replied Bruce. “We have a diet of insects, worms, and lizards. How much worse can Captain Chedda’s Cheesy Puff Snacks be?”

  When the passengers got back on board, the tour continued.

  “Next, ladies and gentlemen,” Duane announced, “we’re going to head up into the Hollywood Hills, home to many of our brightest stars.”

  Donnie followed their progress using the GPS map on his phone. They turned off the wide, palm-tree-lined boulevard and onto a narrower, winding road that led up a hill. The houses were bigger and more spectacular here.

  “If you look to your right you’ll get a great view of the world-famous Hollywood sign,” said Duane.

  “I’ve got to get a photo,” said Donnie, switching his phone to camera mode.

  “No, Donnie—we must remain hidden,” said Chuck.

  Donnie sighed and put his phone away.

  “Hey, folks,” said Duane, suddenly sounding excited. “Now, this is a treat—a real celebrity! Look to your left, through those gates, and you’ll see Hollywood tough guy Vin Pain outside his home!”

  “What?” exclaimed Bruce. Without thinking, he leaped up to look through a window, right in front of an elderly lady who had been trying to take a photo.

  “Ahh! A filthy rat!” she screamed.

  “That’s not a rat. It’s a chipmunk,” said the man behind her.

  “No, it’s a squirrel,” another lady cried.

  “Time to go,” Chuck said. “Come on, Bruce.”

  The terrified tourists lifted their feet in horror as the meerkats ran beneath their seats; one man even tried to swat them with a rolled-up newspaper.

  When they reached the front of the bus, Bruce delivered a sharp kick to the door, and the Clan of the Scorpion leaped to freedom. They hurried up the pavement and took cover behind a large fern outside Vin Pain’s mansion.

  “Please remain calm, folks,” they heard Duane plead, before the door hissed shut and the bus pulled away.

  “Bruce, you must learn to control your excitement,” scolded Chuck.

  But Bruce wasn’t listening. “Look!” he said, pointing.

  On the other side of the gates, Vin Pain was opening the door of a large black car.

  “Wow,” gasped Donnie. “A stretch limo, custom-made from a Chevrolet Corvette Stingray. There are only a few of those in the world.”

  “Forget about the car—look who’s with Vin,” said Jet.

  A shadowy figure, wearing a tailcoat and top hat, had emerged from Vin’s house, and was walking toward the limousine.

  “The Ringmaster,” Chuck growled.

  As the car moved toward the gates, the meerkats strained to see inside, but the limo’s windows were made of tinted glass, hiding the passengers and driver from view.

  “We can’t let them get away,” said Jet.

  “Like a boy band that has outgrown its appeal, it is advisable that we split up at this point,” said Chuck. “Two will follow the Ringmaster. Two will go to RADA.”

  “Please can I follow Vin?” begged Bruce.

  “Very well,” said Chuck. “I shall accompany you. Donnie and Jet, see if you can track down Doris at RADA.”

  The meerkats waited for the automatic gates to open. Then, as the limo drove past, Bruce and Chuck broke cover. They leaped out from behind the fern and sprinted after it, jumping up onto the car’s bumper as it cruised down the hill.

  Jet and Donnie watched as the limo disappeared down the road. “So how do we find this dog school?” Jet asked.

  Donnie pulled out his phone and showed him the map. “This is where we are and this is where we’re going. It’s only a few streets away.”


  “What about a disguise? Can we use the hoodie boy again?”

  “Not with just two of us. But luckily, I have just the thing—it’s my new and improved Prototype Undercover Pretend Poodle Yoodle disguise, aka P.U.P.P.Y.”

  From his backpack, he pulled out a dog costume that Jet had last seen on their adventure in Hong Kong.

  “What’s new about that?”

  “Well, I’ve adapted it so it can be operated by two of us. And then, of course, there’s these…” said Donnie, pulling out two pairs of roller skates. “No more walking for us. We’re freewheeling all the way there.”

  * * *

  Anyone in the Hollywood Hills who looked out of their window that afternoon would have seen a roller-skating dog zooming past. But then Hollywood is the sort of place where anything can happen, and a roller-skating dog isn’t exactly newsworthy.

  “This is really cool, Donnie,” said Jet, who was in the back of the poodle disguise.

  “No, it’s wheely cool,” Donnie replied, weaving in and out of the palm trees that lined the sidewalk.

  After a few minutes, they arrived at a large gate with a sign that read RADA: THE REAL ACADEMY OF DOG ACTORS. Through the gate they could see a white-pillared mansion surrounded by expansive gardens.

  “We’ll have to sneak in through the gates,” said Jet.

  “Wait,” said Donnie. “Look, security cameras. We need to get in without being seen and that means getting over the wall. Come on, over here.”

  They slipped behind a palm tree and changed out of the dog disguise. Donnie rifled around in his backpack and pulled out a long piece of elastic. He handed one end to Jet and told him to tie it around the tree trunk as high up as possible. Donnie tied the other end to a nearby tree.

  “I call this my meerkat-apult,” he said.

  They stood side by side in front of the elastic and walked backward until it would stretch no farther.