Animal Jam's National Hippies

Chapter 1: A Convention with the Monkey Man
The year was 1976, and all of Jamaa was either into peace signs or lots of crack.

Of course, I just went with everything everyone went with. Bellbottoms? Check. Sack of weed? Check. Tie-dye shirts? Double-check. I was 24 and lived in my own van. My full name was Happy Spiritjammer, but heck, just call me Happy.

"Ma," I called. "we're out of pancake mix."

"Then go to the gosh dang store!" she yelled back. She was clearly trying to take an undisturbed dump in my composite toilet.

"I'm going to a Star Trek convention!" I said. "and you haven't done anything but sit your lazy as-"

"Don't say that word, boy!" Mom screamed.

"Fine, we won't get pancake mix then," I said snottily.

"Fine!"

"FINE!"

I stomped off to get my jacket. It was leather; shiny black and a rainbow peace sign on the back to top it all off.

"Hey, man!" said my best friend, a blue monkey named Funny Chunkymonkey. Funny could be a bit of a pain sometimes. He was hardheaded and never backed away from a challenge.

"Yo," I said. "This convention is gonna be far-out."

"It's gonna be wizard!" said Funny.

We got in his corvette and drove off. My sunglasses reflected the morning sun, and my jacket soaked in the heat. Funny cranked up some music.

I remember when rock was young

me and Suzy had so much fun....

We sang along to "Crocodile Rock". I tapped my paws on the glove compartment. "Holdin' hands and skimming stones," I chirped happily.

Had an old blue Chevy and a place o' my own...

Chapter 2: Udderly Interrupted
"Hey dude, did you just let out some gas?" asked Funny.

"Nah, why?"

"Because my car stinks to high heavens."

Suddenly we pulled over. Dead end? What?

"Dude," said Funny. "I think we're lost."

We'd been trying for a few hours when we reached a dirt road. No Star Trek conventions here.

"Retrace your steps then," I said.

"I can't. There's like nowhere that looks familiar. Dude, I think we're in Africa or somethin'." Funny took off his sunglasses and stepped out of the car. He looked outside in horror. "Bro, look at this!"

I stepped out and couldn't believe my eyes. So that's where the nasty smell came from. ''Dead cows. Everywhere. ''

"Think a wolf did this?"

"No wolf, man. This is California. But not a hunter either." I said.

Before I could stop him, Funny went over the fence to see the cows. "Dude, there's a baby here. I think it's still alive."

He held up a light brown calf. It had fresh cuts above its hooves. "Who would do this? Kill a bunch of cows and leave 'em to rot? This is cruelty. Go vegan for life."

"Totally, Funny," I uttered. "But we should go now."

"Not until I find out who did this," he growled. Funny was hard-headed all right.

"Damn it! We'll be late!"

"What do you care about? Animal's lives or a stupid convention? Dude, it's fine. We'll get there on time."

I sighed. "Fine, we'll go look."

Chapter 3: Cult? No Problem!
Me and Funny ventured out beyond the fence. He held the calf in his arms. "There's a barn over there," he pointed to a worn red and white building.

"This is creepy, man, I don't like it, not one bit." I shivered. Before I knew it, Funny was dragging me to the barn. The door was torn up and made an eerie creaking sound. Inside, it was even worse.

Photos of animals and Jammers were all over the walls. A few had red X's on them, and a few were blank. We heard a loud muffling noise outside. Funny peered out the windows.

"Dude. This is a freaking cult," he gasped.