The Angry Birds Movie Page 2

  “Bomb started with us two weeks ago,” continued Matilda. “Tell us your story, Bomb.”

  “Okay. Well, sometimes when I get upset, I have been known to blow up.”

  “So you get mad?” Red asked.

  “No,” replied Bomb. “I literally blow up. I explode. Like a bomb. Hence the name. I have what’s known as Intermittent Explosive Disorder.”

  “We call that IED in my profession,” said Matilda helpfully.

  “Yeah, that. The worst was when I came home on my last bird-day to find that several friends had thrown me a surprise party. When they jumped out and shouted ‘Happy bird-day,’ I got so scared I blew up. Total party foul. So yeah, I explode a lot.”

  Chuck jumped up and down, shouting, “Do it!”

  “No can do,” said Bomb. “I just went boom-boom before class.”

  “Do it!” Chuck shouted again.

  “Not the time or place, little amigo,” Bomb said.

  Before Chuck could pester Bomb any further, Matilda stood up in front of the class. “Today we’re going to be working on managing our anger through movement. Everybody up!”

  “Great,” muttered Red under his breath. He reluctantly stood up with the other birds.

  A few minutes later, Matilda was leading the birds through a series of yoga poses. Red and a few of the others struggled to keep up. Bomb shook and started to sweat. Chuck was doing his own thing and working his way quickly through one pose after another.

  “The first pose is the Dancer pose,” said Matilda. “Does anyone know what comes next?”

  “I do!” shouted Chuck. “Eagle! Heron! Peacock! Warrior! Mountain! Tree! Rabbit! Fish! Locust! King Pigeon! Downward Duck!”

  Red was about to make a remark to Chuck when he noticed Bomb sweating and shaking even more. Red began to get very worried.

  “Uh, excuse me, boring hippie lady, but it looks like the explode-y guy is gonna puke.”

  Matilda walked over to Bomb and noticed that his eyes were beginning to tear and that he was having trouble keeping still. “And how are we doing over here, Bomb?”

  “Doing wonderful,” Bomb gasped. “Stretching out the core.”

  “Just remember to breathe,” said Matilda. “Up through your feathers and from your talons.”

  Suddenly, Bomb’s eyes widened, and Matilda realized what was about to happen next. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable BOOM. Bomb exploded and blew the roof off Matilda’s hut.

  “Nice!” shouted Chuck as he looked around at the damage. Not only had the roof been blown clean off Matilda’s hut, but the walls were charred and black. Smoke billowed up from the hut. And all the birds were covered in ash and bits from the roof. Matilda decided it was probably enough for the day and dismissed the class early.

  Red, Chuck, and Bomb walked back to Bird Village after leaving Matilda’s hut. Bomb was still smoking a little from his explosion.

  “So where are we going now?” Chuck asked.

  “We?” Red asked in return, looking uncomfortable. “Uh, well, you know, I got a thing.”

  “A thing?” gasped Chuck. “Like a disease? Bird flu? Chicken pox? Cardinal sin?!”

  “No, by ‘thing’ I mean I don’t want to hang out . . . with you.”

  “Oh,” said Chuck. He was very disappointed and a little hurt, but he pretended not to be. “Yeah, well, I’ve got something, too. How did I forget?”

  Bomb felt bad for Chuck and joined in as well. “I’m busy tonight, too. I have . . . a business offer deal . . . thingy. . . .”

  “Okay,” said Red. “Good.” With that, he turned and left Chuck and Bomb standing in the middle of the street.

  “Looks like it’s just us,” said Bomb. “Wanna get a bite to eat?”

  “Sure,” said Chuck. At least he knew Bomb was his friend, and that made him feel a lot better.

  When Red got home, he sat at his table and picked up a model of his hut he had built. He wanted to make the hut bigger but still keep it separate from all the other huts. That had always been the idea.

  At least, that was the way he had wanted it and planned for it up until tonight. As he looked at the other birdhouses in the distance and saw lots of lights and heard lots of laughing, he felt alone. Suddenly his hut seemed very small and very far away. Being alone had always been fun before, but tonight, it did not feel like much fun at all.

  The next day at Anger-management Training class, Matilda had every bird read a poem they had written about their feelings. Bomb had just finished reading his when Matilda called on Red to read his poem. But Red had not written a poem. He felt it was a waste of his time. Just as Matilda started to get upset, Chuck raised his wing to read his poem.

  “My poem is about a hate crime against Billy,” he began, and took out the dummy Red had smashed to pieces the day before. Red knew he was in trouble when Chuck showed everyone a red feather he’d found by the smashed-up dummy. It must have gotten stuck to the dummy when Red was beating it up!

  “Uh-oh,” said Red.

  Chuck looked at Red in disgust as he read his poem:

  “OH, BILLY!

  WHAT COULD HAVE MADE HIM SO DESPISE

  YOUR HAPPY SMILE, YOUR LAUGHING EYES?

  YOUR SOUL WAS PURE, YOUR HEART WAS TRUE,

  AND SOMEONE HATED THAT. BUT WHO?”

  Red realized that Chuck had made the dummy! Red was about to respond when Matilda interrupted.

  “Billy has passed on to a higher plane of existence. Everyone join wings. Let’s say our good-byes.”

  All the birds joined wings, but they did not let Red join the circle. He did not try to push his way in. After Chuck said a few words, Red tried to apologize.

  “Listen, Chuck, I’m really so—”

  “What’s going on?” Bomb interrupted as he noticed a commotion going on outside Matilda’s hut. Birds were running past toward the beach.

  “Hey, where’s everybody going?” he asked.

  A bird looked in the window of Matilda’s hut. “Hurry! Something’s happening at the beach!”

  “Last one to the beach is a rotten egg!” shouted Chuck as he took off at super-fast speed.

  “Let’s go!” chimed in Bomb, and the group left Matilda’s hut.

  When they got to the beach, Chuck was already waiting, along with dozens of other birds. They were pointing at a ship in the distance that was getting closer and closer by the minute.

  “What is that?” asked Red. He could tell by the other birds’ expressions that they were wondering the same thing.

  The ship got closer. A green flag flapped in the breeze. The birds began climbing over one another to get a better look at the ship.

  Just then, the ship hit a rock and changed course. It began picking up speed. Red realized that the ship was heading directly toward his hut! He ran toward his home, but it was too late. The ship reached shore and stopped just as it touched Red’s hut. Red breathed a sigh of relief. But then a large anchor dropped from the ship and crashed right through his roof! It smashed through the walls and floors with a loud crash. Red was in shock.

  “My house!” cried Red. “My house, my house! That took me five years to build.” And just like that, Red’s shock turned into anger. Red-hot, boiling anger.

  Chuck sped up to Red and glared at him.

  “Wow. It’s such a shame when you create something and someone just destroys it,” he said sarcastically.

  Red knew Chuck was still upset about Billy, but all he could do was stare at his damaged hut.

  None of the other birds were paying attention. They were too busy staring as a huge door on the side of the ship opened. A motorized gangplank was lowered.

  A large pig appeared at the top and looked out over the crowd. He was completely green and round. He had a black beard that made him look very important. A smaller, hairless pig stood next to him, holding a remote control in his hooves. The bearded pig spread his arms and addressed the birds.

  “Greetings from my world, the world of the pi
gs!” he shouted.

  The birds all gasped in awe. They’d never heard the word “pig,” much less seen one. Then the pig made his way down the gangplank. Or rather, tried to make his way down. As he got halfway, the motor stopped and became stuck.

  “Unbelievable,” he said, and looked at the other pig, who fiddled with the remote control. The gangplank jerked and began moving him backward to the top of the ramp.

  “Wrong way!” he shouted. “We practiced this a hundred times,” he said, grabbing the remote out of the other pig’s hooves. He fiddled with a few controls and then smiled at the birds. “We’re going to come in again.”

  With a shudder, the gangplank moved forward smoothly, and he descended toward the beach.

  “My name is Leonard, but my friends call me Leon,” he said warmly. He pointed to the other pig who was standing behind him.

  “This is my first officer, Ross. We mean no harm. We saw your island across the sea and thought, ‘Wonder what they’re up to?’”

  As the birds began whispering among themselves, Leonard continued.

  “We come from a place called Piggy Island, and we have sailed everywhere. Two brave souls against the sea. Just us two.”

  “Excuse me,” said Red angrily. “Have you come to smash all our houses, or just mine?”

  As the other birds gasped in horror at Red’s rudeness, Leonard just smiled.

  “That’s okay. Please don’t be afraid; we request the honor of your friendship!”

  Ross started to hand out gift baskets. Then he made his way among the birds. He gave each bird a tight hug and called them “friend.” When he got to Terence, he realized that maybe a hug wasn’t the best way to meet this new pal.

  Judge Peckinpah stepped forward and addressed both Leonard and the birds.

  “Welcome to Bird Island! Welcome to our new friends, the pigs! Let us have a celebration!”

  “Put ’er there,” said Leonard as he shook the judge’s wing.

  The other birds clapped and cheered at this historic moment. Red did not join in. As he watched the birds welcome Leonard and Ross, he could not help but feel that something was off with the pigs.

  That evening, Red sat at a table by himself in the great banquet hall used by the birds for special occasions. It was one of the largest structures on Bird Island, with rows of tables and booths that curved down toward a large stage that was used for shows and other special entertainment. Onstage a show put on by the birds for the pigs was wrapping up. It was a song-and-dance spectacular arranged and choreographed by Stella, a perky pink bird. She was in charge of hospitality on Bird Island. Some birds were playing instruments, while Stella and the other dancing birds finished their dance to cheers and claps from the audience.

  Sitting alone, Red watched Leonard and Judge Peckinpah chatting and laughing at their own special table. His eyes narrowed. He was still angry about his hut, and Leonard seemed too friendly and eager to impress the birds. Something didn’t feel right. Just then, Chuck and Bomb arrived.

  “Oh, we meet again,” said Chuck coolly.

  “Look, Chuck, I can be a jerk sometimes. You made something happy. I couldn’t deal with that sign. I was angry and took it out on Billy. I’m sorry about that.” Red patted the empty chair next to him. “Here, come on, sit down.”

  Chuck smiled and sat down next to Red. Bomb squeezed in on the other side of Red. The three new friends watched Leonard and Ross dance along with some of the other birds. Red noticed that Leonard was in the center of it all. The birds were watching and admiring him and his moves. He just seemed so fake to Red, but why could none of the other birds see that? Red stared at Leonard until he couldn’t stand it any longer and sighed.

  “You don’t like them very much, do you?” asked Chuck. “Why?”

  Red didn’t hold back. “For starters, they don’t have feathers; they’re just walking around naked! And we’re supposed to be okay with this?”

  “That part of them I really admire,” responded Chuck. He did not look disturbed at all.

  Before Bomb could weigh in with his thoughts, Leonard took the stage and addressed the birds.

  “Thank you for your kindness and hospitality. You have shared with us the wonders of your simple little island. Now we would humbly love to share some of the wonders of our world,” he said.

  Red crossed his arms and harrumphed.

  On the stage, Leonard continued. “A hundred years from now everyone will ask, ‘How did the friendship between the pigs and the birds start?’”

  “Who cares?” said Red a little too loudly. Chuck covered his face as some of the birds gasped at Red’s rudeness.

  “To mark this special occasion, your friends the pigs give you . . . the trampoline!” said Leonard.

  Two pigs appeared, dragging the trampoline onto the stage, then set it up. It looked to be sloppily built and not very sturdy. Rickety pieces of wood were nailed together and covered by some fabric that had been patched together with uneven stitches.

  Next several more pigs appeared. They were wearing bright gymnastic outfits that were very tight. They started jumping up and down on the trampoline. They laughed and giggled uncontrollably.

  As the birds started clapping, Red realized something wasn’t making sense.

  “Wait, I thought there were supposed to be only two of these guys,” he said, scratching his head. Neither Chuck nor Bomb noticed that there were more pigs.

  As the gymnasts finished their act, Leonard had another surprise in store.

  “My friends, that’s not all! Throwing things just got a whole lot easier,” he said excitedly. “Say hello to . . . the slingshot!”

  The birds oohed in anticipation as the slingshot was brought onstage. It was a big wooden contraption in the shape of a rounded Y. It had a large elastic band attached to it. The assistant pigs demonstrated the slingshot by placing baskets of fruit on the band, pulling it back, and then letting go. Fruit flew into the audience, gobbled up by the cheering birds. They were all mesmerized by the slingshot—except for Red. He was growing angrier by the second. He stood up at the table and shouted at the other birds.

  “Guys, it’s the same fruit that’s been sitting in front of you all night! There’s nothing special about it! Can’t you see that?!”

  “I dunno,” said Bomb as he swallowed some pineapples and grapes. “It tastes more exciting to me.”

  Chuck gulped down some bananas and apples. “I agree! I think thrown fruit is the best kind of fruit!”

  Red couldn’t believe it. How could no one see that these pigs were weird and up to something?

  As the birds’ clapping died down, Leonard continued his presentation.

  “And now, for our last gift to you—”

  “Shut up and fix my house!” Red shouted. He couldn’t take it anymore.

  Several birds shot angry looks at Red. Chuck turned to them and shrugged his shoulders.

  “We don’t know him,” he said quietly to the audience.

  Leonard narrowed his eyes at Red. He’d had his fill of Red.

  “I’m going to ask for a volunteer from the audience,” said Leonard, looking directly at Red. “How about the red guy with the big eyebrows?” He pointed at Red.

  Red’s eyes widened, and he sunk down in his seat.

  “Me? Oh, no no no. . . .”

  “Yes, you, sir! Come on up here! It’s your lucky day!” taunted Leonard.

  The birds started applauding. They urged Red to get on the stage. Chuck and Bomb cheered Red on as well, but Red was not having any of it.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to choose any of the other birds?” he asked.

  “Come on, Red,” said Chuck. “Have some fun.”

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” said Red as he was pushed toward the stage. He knew he was going to regret this. Ross took Red by the arm and led him to the slingshot. Several other pigs joined him and positioned Red directly in front of the elastic band. Red tried to squirm free, but the pigs held him
tight in their grip.

  “Ready,” began Leonard as Red braced himself. “Aim. . . . Fire!”

  Before Red realized what was actually happening, he was soaring through the air above the crowd of birds and back toward the beach in the distance.

  “This seems really unnatural!” he screamed as he flew past the other birds.

  Leonard smiled and put his hooves on his hips.

  “Who says birds don’t fly?”

  The birds leapt to their feet and began cheering and applauding.

  A few long seconds later, Red came crashing into the sandy ground by the beach. He picked himself up and shook his head clear.

  “Don’t worry, I’m fine! Thanks for the lift!” he shouted back at the party going on in the distance. “Unbelievable.”

  Red noticed how quiet and lonely it was on the beach this far away from the village. For some reason, it seemed particularly lonely tonight. Maybe it was because he had never felt so apart from everyone before. It was one thing when it was just him and his fellow birds. Now that these pigs were here, it only made him feel less connected to the birds and more on his own. How could none of the other birds see that these pigs were acting odd? It just didn’t make sense, and this made Red something worse than mad.

  It made him sad.

  As Red dusted himself off, he realized he had landed right by the pigs’ ship. Just as he was thinking about what to do next, a yellow blur rocketed toward him. Before he could blink, Chuck was standing right next to him. Wow, he really is amazingly fast, thought Red.

  “You know you want to search their boat,” Chuck said with a smile.

  “What? No, I don’t,” said Red, and then realized he actually wanted to search the boat. “Yeah, you’re right. I do.”

  “Bomb’s on his way,” said Chuck as the two birds walked toward the ship.

  A short time later, Red, Chuck, and Bomb were climbing aboard the pigs’ ship. Red reached the deck first, and called back to Chuck and Bomb.