But for now, under the bridge, the gang sang their song, off-key but full of hope. And Flick, the squirrel who kept the records, wrote one final note:
Flick raised a tiny paw. “Um. Question. Have you met Red? She’s like… a ninja in a hoodie. She outran a pack of wolves last spring. On roller skates.” be prepared hoodwinked song
Vernon grinned, and it wasn’t a nice grin. “Red Puckett. That little girl with the basket. She delivers the grand prize entry to the judges every year. And this year, her granny’s recipe is the one to beat. So we intercept the basket. Swap the real strudel with a fake. Then we claim the prize.” But for now, under the bridge, the gang
Vernon pointed a claw toward the distant clock tower of the woodland town. “The Schnitzelhausen Annual Baking Competition is tomorrow. First prize: a solid gold rolling pin and enough cash to buy our own mountain. But here’s the thing—we don’t bake. We steal .” Question