The Most Disastrous Heist in Otterton History

Everything happened at once.

The raccoons hurried toward the hatchery.

Boss gave a signal.

Pip and Squeak waddled forward in their duck disguises, quacking loudly.

Unfortunately, they had never learned how ducks actually quacked.

"MEOW!" shouted Pip.

"COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!" yelled Squeak.

A flock of real ducks scattered in terror.

The heron guard looked up from his clipboard.

"What in the world?"

Mabel seized the opportunity to sneak toward the fence.

Grandpa Gus followed her.

Willa stayed behind, watching the water channels.

Something seemed wrong.

The water was unusually high.

It rushed through the channels faster than it should have, carrying little branches and leaves.

Willa frowned.

"Papa?"

But Boss was busy trying to look inconspicuous while wearing a fake mustache.

"Not now, sweetheart. I'm being mysterious."

At the far end of the hatchery, Rocco and his gang had reached the ponds.

The raccoons had brought buckets.

Lots of buckets.

So many buckets that one raccoon had to carry three of them on his head.

"Quick!" Rocco whispered. "Fill them up!"

They began scooping fish from the nearest pond.

Unfortunately, the fish were slippery.

Very slippery.

One raccoon caught a fish.

The fish wriggled free.

It landed on Rocco's head.

Rocco yelped.

Another fish flopped into a bucket.

The bucket tipped over.

A third fish landed in a raccoon's boot.

Within moments, the raccoons were jumping, slipping, and flailing about as though the pond had come alive and declared war.

Boss saw his chance.

"Now!"

The otters charged.

Pip and Squeak ran in circles.

Mabel tried to look intimidating.

Grandpa Gus tripped over a bucket and slid down the bank.

Boss lunged toward the pond.

And Willa shouted, "STOP!"

Nobody stopped.

They were far too busy making a complete mess of everything.

Then came a sound.

A deep, cracking rumble.

The ground trembled.

Water surged through the hatchery channels.

One of the wooden gates had broken loose.

A torrent rushed toward the lower ponds, carrying branches, mud, and anything else in its path.

The fish began darting frantically through the churning water.

The heron dropped his clipboard.

"GOOD GRACIOUS!"

Rocco scrambled onto a rock.

Boss grabbed a fence post.

Mabel clung to a bush.

Pip and Squeak clung to each other.

Grandpa Gus floated past on an overturned bucket.

"THIS IS NOT HOW I PLANNED TO SPEND MY EVENING!" he shouted.

Willa stared at the rushing water.

The broken gate was allowing water to pour into the lower ponds.

If the current grew any stronger, the fish could be swept into the river before anyone could stop it.

She looked at the otters.

She looked at the raccoons.

She looked at Boss.

"Papa! Forget the heist!"

Boss clung to the post.

"But the fish!"

"THE FISH ARE IN TROUBLE!"

For the first time that evening, Boss Otter had absolutely nothing to say.

Then he took a deep breath.

"Right," he shouted. "New plan!"

Rocco looked across the water.

"What kind of plan?"

Boss pulled off his fake mustache.

"The kind where we stop being idiots and start being useful!"

And with that, the greatest criminal operation in Otterton history became something entirely different.

A rescue mission.