The Culprit Unmasked

Sunlight dappled the edge of Zippy Zappy Woods—a forest where every tree seemed to dance, and the grass bounced underfoot like a marshmallow trampoline. The trail of fruity evidence slithered onward between two twirling lollipop-bushes, heart-shaped leaves glimmering.

Millie’s detective shoes—purple, with sparkly laces—squelched into a patch of blueberry mud. Pip followed, waddling and chirruping, his little black feet leaving webby prints among banana peels. Both detectives paused, ears perked.

Somewhere, something was snoring. Loudly. Really, really loudly. Like a bear, if a bear had swallowed a trumpet and a bouncy ball.

“Ooom-CHOO! Ooom-CHOO!”

Millie crept forward, pushing a branch aside and poking her nose beneath a wiggleberry tree. There, curled up with his tail over his nose, lay Bingo the Monkey.

Bingo was fast asleep—and what a sight! Fruity hats ringed him like a crown: squished cherry tiaras, slurped banana bonnets, a lacy orange beret with one big bite out of the brim. His cheeks were chubby as pudding, and his tummy made soft ‘glub-glub’ sounds with every snore.

Tiny fruit flies circled lazily in the air, landing occasionally with a splat! on bits of leftover melon rind.

Pip tiptoed close, glancing at Millie. “Should we wake him?”

Millie crouched, magnifying glass ready, and whispered, “Let’s try. Gently.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cherry stem, waving it ticklishly beneath Bingo’s twitching nose.

“Ahh…AH-CHOO!”

Bingo shot upright, blinking. His tail whipped around, and a blackberry bounced off his ear.

“Banana blossoms! Who’s there?”

Millie smiled, gentle. “It’s just us, Bingo. I’m Millie, and this is Pip. Detective business. Are you all right?”

Bingo’s brown eyes grew round. His hands fluttered to his mouth. “Uh-oh. Am I in trouble?”

Pip stepped closer, sardine hat straight. “Not if you tell the truth! Did you…mmm, maybe, nibble some fruit hats this morning?”

Bingo’s ears drooped. He stared at his toes, then at all the fruity evidence ringing him in a rainbow mess. His tummy made a deep, sorrowful ‘grumble.’

“I…I did,” he confessed, voice small as a blueberry seed. “I woke up soooooo hungry. The wind was blowing the smell of fruit hats all the way into the woods! I tried to sniff, not bite, but then…just a teensy nibble. But then my tummy rumbled, and—and suddenly I’d eaten a LOT.”

He looked at Millie, sniffling. “I’m really, really sorry! Please don’t be mad. I didn’t know those hats were for the parade. I’m new, and in the forest, fruit is just food. I never wore a hat in my life—all I have is my fuzzy tail!”

Millie sat beside him, carefully brushing peels from her skirt. Her detective heart thudded with sympathy. Pip, ever sensible (and hungry himself), nodded.

“Bingo, did you try to tell anyone you were hungry?” Pip asked softly.

Bingo shook his head, tears wobbling on his lashes. “I was a little scared. Everyone seemed so busy preparing their hats and cheering and dancing! I just watched from the trees. And my tummy…oh, my tummy was so grumbly!”

Millie scribbled furiously in her notebook, then snapped it shut and smiled. “Everyone makes mistakes, Bingo. And you didn’t mean to ruin the parade hats. You were just lonely and hungry. I bet there’s a way to fix all this!”

Bingo blinked. “But how?”

Pip brainstormed, tapping his beak with a wing. “Maybe next year’s parade could include a ginormous fruity snack table! That way, no one has to eat a hat.”

Bingo’s tail perked up hopefully. “Would folks in Jellybean Town want a monkey to help?”

Millie grinned, eyes bright. “Of course! But first, we’ll need to let everyone know the truth—you, Bingo, and us, together. Nobody’s mad, and maybe, if we all work together, next year’s hats will stay chew-free and the snack table will be the tastiest ever!”

Bingo’s worried face began to crinkle with relief. “You’d help me? But aren’t you mad?”

Millie squeezed his paw. “Not mad at all, Bingo. Mistakes happen, and besides, this was the funniest, stickiest family parade ever!”

Pip reached out a flipper and gave Bingo a high-five (or, more accurately, a high-flipper-to-paw). The three sat together, surrounded by fruit debris, giggles echoing out into the silly, sun-pecked woods.

Just then, the breeze picked up—wafting the sweet scent of banana and raspberry back toward town.

Millie stood, determined. “Let’s go fix this together, Bingo. Every mystery is a chance for a new friend.”

They set off back toward Jellybean Town—Millie leading, Pip waddling, and Bingo bouncing in between—ready to explain, to fix, and to cook up plan for the greatest fruity snack table the world had ever seen.

Back in the woods, the birds sang a silly song: “Banana hats, banana hats, next time hats don’t need a snack!”

As the trio marched gleefully toward Jellybean Town—with a monkey, a penguin, and a girl side-by-side—a new kind of parade was about to begin.

But would the townsfolk forgive Bingo? Would the hats be safe again? Who could say? And what on earth would a Super Monster-Sized Parade Snack Table look like?

The next chapter in the Great Banana Hat Caper was about to begin… and it promised to be stickier, sillier, and sweeter than ever!