The Berenstain Bears in the Wax Museum by Stan Berenstain Page A

one of their favorite bears in all Bear Country. But today was different. For one thing, their stomachs were already growling, and Gramps was one of Beartown’s slowest walkers. If he walked them to the Pizza Shack, they might faint from hunger before they got there! For another thing, even supposing they didn’t faint from hunger on their way to the Pizza Shack, what if Gramps invited himself to have lunch with them? After all, this was their very first day of summer buddyhood, and in that kind of situation—well, two’s company and three’s a crowd, as the saying goes.

    â€œBeautiful day, eh?” said Gramps as they began inching their way down the sidewalk. “What are you cubs up to?”
    â€œPizza Shack,” said Brother. “We’re starving.”
    Gramps noticed that both cubs looked a little tense. They were staring straight ahead, as if they were afraid of what he might say next. He chuckled and said, “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna invite myself to have lunch with you. And I’ll only walk with you as far as Grizzly Avenue.”
    The cubs relaxed.
    â€œBet I know where you’re headed afterward,” Gramps said. “The same place I’m headed now. The Bearsonian Institution.”
    Brother shook his head. “Why would we want to go to the Bearsonian, Gramps?” he said. “We’ve been there at least a million times.”
    â€œDidn’t you know?” said Gramps. “There’s a special exhibit on the Great Bear War in the Hall of Bear Country History. This week only.”
    â€œWe’re going out to Birder’s Woods for a hike,” said Fred. “Then, if there’s time, we’ll play some catch at the schoolyard.”
    â€œYou mean you came all the way downtown just to have lunch?” said Gramps. “That seems kinda odd.”
    â€œNo, it doesn’t,” said Brother. “There’s nothing to do in this town, anyway. Except eat pizza.”

    â€œOr burgers,” added Fred. He had wanted to go to the Burger Bear for lunch, but Brother had held out for pizza.
    â€œYou gotta be kiddin’,” said Gramps. “What about takin’ in a matinee at the Bearjou Theater?”
    â€œThe Bearjou’s an old dump,” said Fred. “It doesn’t even have cup holders.”
    â€œAnd it never runs the kind of movies we like,” said Brother.
    â€œSuch as what?” asked Gramps.
    â€œSuch as weird sci-fi thrillers and creepy, disgusting horror movies,” said Brother.
    â€œYeah!” said Fred. “Like Invasion of the Bruin Snatchers and The Eyeballs from Outer Space .”
    â€œThank goodness for that,” Gramps muttered to himself. Then, to the cubs, he said, “I guess you have a real gripe there.”
    â€œYou bet we do,” said Brother. “I’m tellin’ you, Gramps, this place is Dullsville. Right, Fred?”
    Fred was about to nod in agreement, but suddenly he stopped walking and stared straight ahead. Somehow they had reached the corner of Bruin Street and Grizzly Avenue without noticing the long fence just across the street. “Hey, that’s new,” said Fred. “What’s it all about?”

    The fence was painted in all kinds of bright, jazzy colors with the words: WATCH THIS SPACE FOR THE MOST EXCITING DEVELOPMENT IN THE HISTORY OF BEARTOWN!
    â€œHmm,” said Gramps. “Don’t know what it’s all about. But whatever it is, it sure doesn’t look like it belongs in ‘Dullsville.’”
    They crossed the street and sidled up to the fence. Brother peered through a crack, but all he could see was a bunch of building materials piled and stacked in various places. He turned to Gramps and said, “Maybe it’ll be something really cool!”

    But Gramps had already decided it wouldn’t be. Gramps wasn’t a big fan of change, especially when it happened in the town