text: [Themes: family friendly, fantasy, family friendly, animal perspective]
  
  In a lost valley beyond Utah, and bordering the land of wide-hip elves. Madame Raccoon lives in a large, cosy log cabin after retiring from her career as a detective. Normally Madame sits in her rocking chair to knit looking out beyond her porch.
  
  But not today. Today, Madame will have a pleasant visit. Momma Cat the baker, and her three mischievous kittens: Miz, Matt and Mandy, are about to come to have tea.
  
  I'm so glad they come to visit me, but I don't know what kind of drink to make. What would they prefer? Hot chocolate, milkshakes, or maybe tea?
  
  [Author's Note: Seriously this game won't be made without @mizal support editing and asking for a children game.]
  
  > say "I will make hot chocolate"
  Madame Raccoon washes her chubby little hands before preparing drinks for the party. Momma Cat has promised to bring cakes, bagels and cupcakes. The raccoon's mouth waters at the thought of the chocolate peanut butter cake.
  
  The kitchen is small and very clean with beautifully painted pots of thousands of colours, full of carnations and aromatic plants.
  
  The big red iron bucket makes a nice noise and the milk chocolate and cinnamon boil happily as Madame Coon stirs them with a large wooden spoon.
  
  Now that everything is ready and the large wooden table decorated with a beautiful tablecloth with drawn sunflowers. Madame Coon runs to put on her pink gala dress.
  
  Ring Ring...
  
  Madame Coon runs happily to open the great oak front door.
  
  Momma Cat and her three mischievous kittens Miz, Mandy and Mat are waiting on the sunny porch, carrying boxes of sweets.
  
  > come in, let's all go! The table is ready!
  Momma Cat is a very elegant tan Persian cat with her white stilettos to match her white purse decorated with feathers. The three kittens each wear a red bow with a pretty bell so that their mother can find them whenever they go out to play.
  
  "Oh, hot chocolate, that's my favourite," says Mat pouring himself his second cup.
  
  Everyone happily eats lots of delicious sweets, carrot cake, cream cake and lots of cupcakes.
  
  Madame Raccoon finishes her last piece of peanut butter chocolate cake, looking at the three cubs, scratching her left ear and thinking. Until finally Momma Cat with a very soft voice says to the three little ones:
  
  "Today you are going to stay with Madame Coon, little ones."
  
  "No, mama..." Mat interrupted sobbing in unison with his two sisters.
  
  The big cinnamon-coloured cat jumped up and hugged her three little ones: "I have to take care of your grandmother who is in the hospital, but tomorrow I will make you your favourite pancakes for breakfast."
  
  Madame Coon approaches the little ones and promises them their favourite dinner.
  
  > say "
  After saying goodbye to Momma Cat, Madame Raccoon takes the three distressed kittens to her living room by the warm fireplace. She sit them down on a comfortable leather sofa, covered in a red woollen blanket woven by Madame Coon last winter.
  
  Then she reclines in her rocking chair looking at the fire. Smiling at the three siblings, Madame Coon affably tries to remember a good story from her past to tell the little ones, like her grandmother always did for her. Until suddenly with a big smile:
  
  "Do you know the Valley Beauty Pageant?"
  
  Matt claps excitedly: "Our cousin Felix won it last year. And he bought us each a bike with the prize money!"
  
  "I am going to tell you a story that happened in my first year as a detective. The valley was very different; each animal species could only do certain jobs or go to certain places. Only male Peacocks could participate in the Beauty contests.
  
  Madame Racoon pauses, looking at the suddenly interested faces of the three Persian kittens sitting on the end of the leather sofa. She is delighted to have such an attentive audience:
  
  "Then, a rooster bravely appeared in front of the contest committee asking to participate. He was the most handsome young rooster anyone in the valley had ever seen, with gorgeous shiny black and golden feathers brighter than dragon scales. The long swooping feathers of his tail were black mingled with dark, glossy green, his beautiful crest a shining scarlet. It lay on one side of his head in a glamorous style he became known for, that drove all the young chickens in the Hen neighbourhood crazy. And this rooster's name was Elvis."
  
  > say "I have come to participate in the beauty contest,"
  Susan, an old rabbit lady with oval wire framed glasses and a purple wide-brimmed hat to match her dress stares disdainfully at him, her face the living image of contempt. She looks at Elvis as if he were an insect to step on with the tips of her heels.
  
  Allison the Pigeon stands nearby, cooing to herself and smiling, completely oblivious to the tension in the room as she thinks about how to decorate the stage for the event.
  
  Everything is totally silent until Elvis bravely repeats his request to enter the contest:
  
  "I want to participate in the beauty contest. With my beautiful voice and my joyous dance, I will make everyone happy!"
  
  "You can not get in!" Susan insists, pointing at Elvis with her long hairy finger. She throws her notebook to the ground for dramatic effect Allison gives a startled chirp. "You are a rooster, Roosters are vigilant soldiers and boxers. Never singers or dancers. We are decent people."
  
  "But why?" Elvis asks, confused but unruffled by her angry response. "Every species has its beauty and joy. Shouldn't the beauty contest be open to everyone?"
  
  "Nutcrackers! Every kind of animal has its place in the Valley and they shouldn't mix! Allison, say something about it!" Susan orders the second member of the committee, who has begun to desperately try and sort the papers the old rabbit scattered across the floor.
  
  Allison was a young, plump brown pigeon who always had her head in the clouds. That day she was wearing a poorly buttoned green wool jacket, and a green and orange polka dot skirt.
  
  The pigeon stares at the young Elvis for a long time, while he struts to show off his beautiful soft feathers to both judges.
  
  "I think we should let him participate, as long as he proves in some way that he is worthy to enter the contest."
  
  Susan considers that and then smirks, thinking to herself she has the perfect task he'll never be able to accomplish. "Yes, that's only fair... Elvis, you need to bring me the three Valley Dwellers' Friendship Necklaces, before the contest starts tomorrow. But you're a rooster, your kind isn't made for subtle things. You'll find it takes more than just flashing your feathers around."
  
  Elvis never stops smiling, dashingly swelling his chest, his brilliant plumage gleaming in the light. Then he merrily adds: "Don't worry, I'll get the friendship necklaces. Even YOU will be my friend by tomorrow."
  
  > Elvis goes to talk about the necklace with Sabley the Mother Hen.
  Elvis grew up in the Hen neighbourhood orphanage, raised like the other orphans by the elder Mother Hen Sabley, a short, strong hen that everyone respected for her wisdom.
  
  Elvis trots along on his two slender legs, happy to return to his neighbourhood where everyone knows everybody and is kind to him.
  
  The Hen neighbourhood is a poor, but clean neighbourhood, the hens and roosters live in small pens on one floor with smooth beams overhead that they perch on to sleep, huddled together to feel safe.
  
  Mother Hen is as always helping in the orphanage. The building is painted in bright colours with pretty drawings painted by the little chicks. Elvis smiles after seeing his own drawings from when he was a child hanging on the mural.
  
  "Sabley?" Elvis respectfully greets the Elder.
  
  "Yes, Elvis. How can I help you, sweetcorn?" she asks, setting a basket of vegetables from the orphanage garden on the table.
  
  "Mom Sabley!" exclaims Elvis, hugging her. "I wanted to enter in the beauty contest, but they say that since I am not a glamorous peacock, I am not worthy to participate. Only, if I get three pendants of friendship they would think about it."
  
  Sabley fondly caresses the scarlet crest of the young rooster with a heart of gold.
  
  "Oh, Elvis, I feel like Susan has mistreated you. There are people in the valley who think they know better than others, by their fur or their claws." Sabley's face reddened and her feathers swelled, thinking about how someone could be so mean to the innocent Elvis. "I am already your friend, I will give you my necklace right now."
  
  She thought a bit until her face lit up, clacking her beak in satisfaction and saying: "As for the rest, I think I have a solution; today there is going to be a neighbourhood's fair to try to collect funds to repair the broken roofs after the last storm."
  
  Elvis beat his powerful wings, happy to be able to help: "Great, so I can help the people in the neighbourhood, and get the bracelets! What can I help with, Sabley?"
  
  > say "You can help us by cooking."
  Elvis smiles happily. "Great, I love helping Juana the Goose!"
  
  The orphanage's kitchen is as always full of chickens and cozy and warm thanks to the heat of the old stone oven and its crackling fire. Juana is busy kneading a huge cinnamon and raisin bun, accompanied by several plump assistants.
  
  "Elvis, my little one. What happened?" she asks, wiping her beak free of flour before running to hug Elvis and smooth his feathers lovingly.
  
  Elvis relates the situation to the warm-hearted goose.
  
  Right away she replies, "Friendship necklaces are all you need? You'll be in that contest in no time, you're a friend to everyone. Look, you come and help me made a tortilla and I'll give you mine."
  
  Elvis points at the enormous stack of corn and white flour tortillas nearby being used to make burritos.
  
  Juana shakes her slender neck. "No, not those sorts of tortillas. I mean those of my country, Spain. It is what you called Spanish Omelette. But we at home don't use the word omelette."
  
  Elvis asks Juana curiously, "Where is Spain?"
  
  "It is a country located more on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Full of sunny beaches, green forests and even deserts. And the omelette is a dish that reminds me of my home."
  
  Intrigued, Elvis starts helping the goose wash potatoes, then watches Juana peel and thinly slice them, while the other cook cuts various vegetables like peppers, zucchini or spinach to add to the dozens of tortillas for the charity feast.
  
  Juana smiles and talks, standing nearby so that Elvis can hear her over the sounds of the others in the kitchen. "My favourite is the onion tortilla. So that's the first one I'm going to cook."
  
  Elvis watches attentively and assists where he can as they cook the potatoes and onions in a splash of olive oil in a big frying pan. They fry the onions until they have a golden crisp cover but are still soft. Juana leaves Elvis to take care of the vegetables, while she prepares the last ingredient.
  
  Elvis runs and grabs Juana's apron, excited. "Juana, I think the potato is golden enough. See, I was vigilant!" he exclaims proudly.
  
  "Well done! Will you stir in the eggs?"
  
  > say "Sure I will!"
  "I will do it!" Elvis says. Suddenly he feels determined to be a chef.
  
  Elvis pours the freshly beaten eggs in slowly and uses a wooden spoon to mix them in. With Juana's instructions, he stirs and presses the vegetables to absorb more egg.
  
  Juana proudly nods, saying: "See, you've got the hang of this already, Elvis!"
  
  > They keep cooking the Spanish omelette.
  Juana cooks the egg mixure over medium heat for a few minutes, until the bottom of the "tortilla" is lightly golden.
  
  The goose comments to Elvis, "Now comes the hard part. In Spain, the great chefs throw the tortilla high into the air, and it flips around, falling with the golden side upwards. I did it years ago, but I don't know if I still can after it's been so long..."
  
  > say "You can, Juana! Launch the tortilla!"
  Juana nods, gripping the pan and flicking her feathered wrists to launch the omelette out of it and into the air with style. In the kitchen, everyone stopped what they were doing to watch.
  
  At the last moment, the pan turns and half of the tortilla falls onto the ground, only the other half making it back to the pan.
  
  "Sorry, Juana! It was all my fault," the young rooster says, feeling guilty.
  
  Juana sighs and shakes her head. "Don't worry, we will have more tortillas with other vegetables. And with this one. If you add a little more beaten egg and spread it well on the pan and brown it, you have a regular omelette. Now Elvis, can help me clean this up?"
  
  Both go to work, to keep the kitchen safe and clean. Juana finally encourages him, "You have been of great help, Elvis. Here, have my friendship necklace, you deserve it. And as you can see, sometimes when you try things they don't come out perfectly. But it's having the right attitude that makes it all okay. And you come back to see me some time so that we can try again!"
  
  Elvis grabs the necklace, pleased, as he gratefully embraces Juana the Goose again. "Now off I go! What next?"
  
  > Can help you by cleaning the neighbourhood
  Elvis loves his neighbourhood. It is true that it is one of the poorest neighbourhoods in the whole valley, but it is his home and everyone tends to be nice to others. But the effects of the latest storm can be seen on the rooftops with shattered tiles and holes from branches and debris.
  
  This evening's fair will be a great opportunity for the community to raise funds to fix the neighbourhood.
  
  "Elvis. Here, come!" Ruckus the duck's high-pitched voice makes Elvis run towards him, trying not to step in mud.
  
  Ruckus' real name is Rufus, but he was so mischievous as a duckling that everyone called him Ruckus. Now the big-hearted old duck smiles and pauses on his way to the neighbourhood recycling workshop. He gives Elvis a friendly pat and cheerfully says, "I'm picking up the rubble and trash to make everything nice, can you help me?"
  
  Around him, Elvis sees a group of ducklings and chicks picking up litter.
  
  "Remember, boys and girls, if you are going to pick up metal things or cables, put on safety gloves. Because rust is bad for wounds and you could get sick. If you get hurt with something rusty, you have to notify an adult."
  
  Little by little, Elvis begins to collect the heaviest rubble, after putting on his safety gloves and a work cap that makes him look like a professional; while children collect garbage and debris in coloured bags.
  
  Ruckus stops often to tell them red is for trash that cannot be reused. For cardboard and paper, the blue, while glass goes in green and metal in black.
  
  "But not everything is for recycling bins," says the old duck, grabbing an old shirt. "If I cut this I can use it as a rag to clean or even to make rag dolls. The same with old cardboard: we can make a theatre for puppets."
  
  "Ahhh!"
  
  A cry of pain is heard nearby and everyone runs towards the side street. A wooden beam from a roof has collapsed onto a scaffold, trapping a worker.
  
  "Are you okay?" Ruckus asks, frightened and pulling at his orange beak in distress.
  
  A shaky voice is heard: "Yes, thanks to the fact that I was wearing work shoes and a work helmet. If not, now I would be a dead rooster. Still, I think I have a broken leg."
  
  Ruckus answers carefully, trying to calm to the rooster. "Don't try to move. Elvis is going to run to the alarm bell and call the fire and emergency department."
  
  Elvis doesn't wait any longer and runs as fast as he can on his slender legs, flapping his black and gold wings to give himself a boost.
  
  I have to save him, the best way to help someone hurt is to alert the authorities.
  
  The young rooster runs across several muddy streets until he finally reaches his destination; the old bronze bell of the neighbourhood. Elvis pulls on the rope as hard as he can.
  
  > The bell rings
  The heavy bell rings throughout the valley.
  
  Elvis nervously races around the bell, looking up at the sky, waiting for the eagles to fly in formation to save the poor wounded worker.
  
  "Here come the Eagles!" Elvis yells, excited and glad to see the arrival of the rescue team.
  
  Tall, slender, and strong, they're everything Elvis has always looked up to.
  
  "You have done a great job, Elvis," says Frank, a huge Bald Eagle and their squad leader, as the rooster explains the situation.
  
  "We will fly now to attend to him, there's no time to waste."
  
  Elvis, tired and worried returns to the neighbourhood slower than before. As soon as he arrives, Ruckus embraces him with tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Elvis. You did a great job. They flew him away and they say he will recover without a problem. Take my friendship necklace, you deserve it."
  
  > Elvis can hear someone shouting his name
  "Elvis, please come here!"
  
  "Hey?" Elvis mutters in confusion. After what happened earlier, he has just been stretching his legs around town and does not know the owner of that voice, angry and aggressive.
  
  Step by step, Elvis approaches the origin of the voice, the Great Plaza in the heart of the community.
  
  A swarm of neighbours crowds curiously, watching him. In the plaza is an enormous dog with wavy hair like a sheep; his eyes gleam when he says:
  
  "Young Elvis, you have been accused of stealing the flowers from the play and today, the young man's leg bracelet here." The dog indicates a peacock standing nearby, Felix the Handsome.
  
  Elvis knows Felix as well as as anyone else in the Valley. He is the winner of the last three editions of the beauty contest.
  
  Felix is gorgeous, his slender body and voluminous tail is a fan of pure splendour and art in movement; a mother-of-pearl gleam of reflective colours, from a vibrant emerald to a royal purple.
  
  Elvis blanched and could only weakly murmur in shock, "I would never do that sir, this community has raised me and taught me everything. Why would I steal from my friends?"
  
  > Elvis is indignant. "You know I never would do anything like that!"
  With a sneer, Felix swells with pride, fanning his brilliant green tail to the maximum, looking at the public as if they should all be grateful to even get a glimpse of him.
  
  "Why would I lie? I have won the last three contests. Against real rivals: other peacocks. A rooster could never concern me. It's a beauty contest, not an illegal boxing ring."
  
  The crowd, all from the area, look at him with narrowed eyes, their plumage swollen and stiff with anger; all have suffered similar speeches throughout their lives as members of the Hen's neighbourhood.
  
  The hostility becomes almost tangible in the air, but Felix remains totally indifferent to his audience. "Pageants and plays? Really now, that is not your place in the Valley. You are laborers or bodyguards; not worthy of anything that requires beauty or subtlety..."
  
  > say "Stop! He's lying!" you interrupted. "He is the thief And I have proof!"
  "I, dear kittens," says Madame Raccoon, "was hired by Sabley to get to the bottom of the theft and some vandalism. A case more politically complicated than it seemed at first glance. But the details of that are for another day."
  
  The three kittens were still hanging on to every word, but beginning to blink at her sleepily.
  
  > say "Now, now, here's my big part of this story...no napping just yet!"
  My heart was pounding, and my legs were not the longest, but I raced up to the Great Plaza faster than any raccoon you've ever seen!
  
  "I have to save that young man, Elvis! He does not deserve to be accused of a crime he has not committed!" was all I could think to myself.
  
  The centre of that poor old district was full of angry birds and about to explode. I saw Felix strutting around like he was the king of the world and I just focused on running faster. I knocked all those skinny-necked birds aside like I was a furry bowling ball and stopped panting in front of the police dog. Thankfully, I knew him. Mr Goodboy was an amazing dog with a great heart.
  
  Retrieving my breath, I addressed myself to Mr Goodboy, as clearly as I could. "Stop! Felix is lying. He is the thief and I have proof!"
  
  "What evidence can a dirty raccoon have? The whole species is made up of liars and thieves," the presumptuous peacock screamed with all the vitriol he kept in his stone heart.
  
  The crowd started booing him, while Mother Sabley tried to calm everyone down. She also knew as I did that violence never did anything but distract from the real issues.
  
  "Mr. Goodboy, please read this letter signed by Felix and sent to all the peacocks who have participated in the contest.
  
  Mr Goodboy takes it and reads it out loud;
  
  Dear Fellows,
  
  Lately in our pure and organized Valley, a wave of insurrection has settled like a worm in the heart of the lesser species.
  
  Raccoons as detectives, Police dogs, postal cats and now even worse. The chickens try to teach the workers to read. AND MAKE THEATER !! As if their little brains could assimilate what art is, they only make grotesque copies of us.
  
  I, Felix Jaded will not allow that threat to spread like a plague throughout the Valley. I will take matters into my own wings and sabotage their attempts until they forget this nonsense return to their natural place in life.
  
  Signed
  
  Felix Jaded.
  
  "No, that's not true! She is a raccoon; they are very clever, she must have falsified it. You cannot trust a raccoon," Felix squawked, suddenly sounding more like a perturbed chicken than a peacock.
  
  Mr. Goodboy stirred his whiskers attentively, looking at the letter with his magnifying glass. "This is your family seal, Felix. AND your handwriting. The ink is the teal color your family uses and the paper is lined with a gold leaf pattern, quite expensive. And all I will need to do to be certain is to find copies with the other peacocks it was sent to."
  
  Mr. GoodBoy pulled out his leash and slipped it onto the enraged peacock, who kicked and flailed about like an angry little chick, trying to avoid the arrest while all the hens in the crowd jeered and called him a turkey.
  
  Elvis had been watching the events in amazement, and he took a couple of steps towards Felix and Mr. Goodboy as they started to move away.
  
  > say "
  As Mr. Goodboy left with his prisoner, Mother Sabley was flapping her wings in excitement, nearly flying as she ran up with her skinny old legs and warmly hugged Elvis.
  
  "My little rooster, you are a good person, do not let anyone tell you that you cannot fulfil your dreams.
  
  "This is Elvis' big moment. And here, my young rooster friend here is my Friendship necklace. You've earned it Madame Raccoon says.
  
  Suddenly, without anyone planning it, dozens of friendship necklaces come sailing through the air, thrown to Elvis from all around amid cheers and clapping.
  
  The deafening noise of applause fills the neighbourhood square, and as evening falls, the owls swoop in to light the coloured lanterns on the streets. Soon, the fair will begin and the merriment will fill the quarter's streets all night long.
  
  > The end of the tale
  Madame Raccoon looks at her cuckoo clock, seeing how two hours have passed in telling the story and sighs to herself. It's quite later and the little one's should be asleep.
  
  "Now, that's the end of the story for tonight. It's time to sleep."
  
  Miz frowns: "But...but, the contest and the play...? You can't end the story like that, Madame Raccoon."
  
  "Tell us more!" her siblings chant, demanding the rest.
  
  Madame grew quiet, thinking about the past. "It's too late, kittens." She sighed, then went on. "Sometimes it is better to finish stories where everyone is happy forever. What happened after that is...Elvis took part in the contest and nobody voted for him. No one dared to do it. "
  
  "Poor Elvis!" Matt bursts almost about to cry.
  
  "Cowards!" the others hissed.
  
  Madame keeps talking. "Elvis and Costello put together a theatre and variety show together. They managed to open up a new world for roosters and hens, and all other birds and creatures too. Ten years after Elvis entered and lost, a hen named Madeline won, and dedicated the award to her hero Elvis."
  
  All three were appeased but still feeling sad for Elvis, as Madame Raccoon prepares the guest room for them.
  
  The next morning, Momma Cat returns tired and limping a bit with her left paw but happy, carrying fresh bread and freshly made cookies. After hugging her little ones and assuring them their grandmother is just fine, she shakes Madame Raccoon's hand and whispers in her ear.
  
  "The night plan has gone perfectly, the Resistance thanks you for your help."