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Chad opened one eye and adjusted the surveillance camera.“Voil?. Curtain up.”

The white cat clapped her paws.“Places, everyone! You’re on!”

Walt glanced at Oscar uneasily and then turned back to the empty storage area onscreen.“Where are they? That’s the right channel.”

“I don’t know,” Oscar said. Butterbean had hit the wrong button at first, but they’d fixed it. It had only been a few minutes. Surely they hadn’t missed it?

Mrs. Food picked up the Television remote.“I apologize again. I’ll just turn this off.”

“NOOOOO!” Walt’s voice was a low growl.

Mrs. Food pointed the remote at the Television. Then she hesitated.

Something had appeared on the screen.

Mrs. Food’s jaw dropped.

Everyone in the room stared in silence for a few long minutes. Then Mrs. Food leaned forward.“Is that?” She got up and took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry, is that…”

Oscar held his breath.

“WHAT ARE THOSE?” Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six shrieked. “Are those BEARS?”

“BEARS?” Butterbean barked from the kitchen. “Where?”

Mrs. Food put down the remote and squinted at the television.“No, I think they’re…”

“BEARS OR DOGS. That’s disgusting!” Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six turned on Bob. “There are BEARS in the storage area!”

Madison hurried back in, bouncing Butterbean up and down like a baby.“What’s going on? What bears?”

Mrs. Food walked closer to the Television and peered at the screen closely.“I think those are… I’m not sure…”

“RACCOONS,” Bob growled, staring at the screen. “Those are RACCOONS.” Bob sounded like raccoons were his mortal enemy.

“But are those COSTUMES?” Mrs. Food frowned in disbelief.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six sputtered. “Those are… Bob, what are those?”

“Walt, can you turn up the sound?” Oscar said in a low voice. “I can’t hear anything.”

Walt nodded and slunk over to the coffee table on her stomach.

Onscreen, the raccoons were doing an admirable cancan, with lots of high kicks and jazz hands. The white cat had done something with the lighting in the storage area, and although Oscar almost hated to admit it, she’d been right. Those raccoons really popped onscreen.

Suddenly Reginald, wearing his cowboy outfit, leaped into the center of the stage, mugging for the camera as he sang an obviously heartfelt rendition of… something. The problem was that there was no sound.

Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six gasped.“THAT BEAR IS WEARING MY HAT!” she shrieked, pointing at the screen.

Walt pounced on the remote and hit the volume button. But nothing happened. She turned to Oscar, her eyes wide.“There’s no sound. THIS CHANNEL HAS NO SOUND!”

They turned back and stared at the silent television in dismay.

All that rehearsal had been for nothing.

“Reginald, catch!” The white cat tossed a ukulele to Reginald, who caught it and immediately started a heartbreaking rendition of a traditional raccoon cowboy song. The white cat nudged Wallace, who was watching with tears in his eyes. (He’d always been a sucker for sad songs.) “Here, take this.” She handed him a small camera phone.

“What’s this?” Wallace said, struggling to hold it up. It was about the same size he was.

“Don’t ask questions—just push that button when I tell you,” the white cat said. “You’re a cameraman now.”

“Okay?” Wallace said. It was always good to add new skills to his r?sum?.

The white cat waved to the tube-top raccoon standing on the sidelines.“You! Sparkles!”

The tube-top raccoon looked around and then pointed at herself questioningly.“I’m Tulip?”

“Tulip, get out there! Show them what you’ve got,” the white cat said. “Do that move you were doing earlier. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Tulip’s face lit up and she raced out in front of the camera.

It was her big shot.

“Are those maracas?” Madison asked, peering at the screen.

“Those are RACCOONS,” Bob said, his face turning deeper and deeper red. “In MY STORAGE AREA.”

“No, I meant the… never mind,” Madison said. She knew the difference between raccoons and maracas. Madison looked around for the remote. “Does this channel have sound?”

“NO!” Oscar and Walt wailed.

“Guys, I don’t think it matters. I think it’s working!” Butterbean said, craning her neck to get a better view of the screen. It was hard to see, because Madison’s big head was blocking her view.

“Why is that little one so sparkly?” Mrs. Food asked, squinting. “I swear, it looks like it’s wearing an outfit.” Onscreen, Tulip’s sequined tube top caught the light as she did her best interpretive dance, complete with elaborate arm waving.

“Excuse me,” Bob said, pushing his chair back and rushing to the door. “I have to… RACCOONS,” he bellowed as he ran out into the hallway.

“Marco! You’re on!” Oscar called, jumping onto the side of his cage. “We have to warn them!”

Marco was way ahead of him. He’d already crawled out of the cage and was racing across the floor toward the vent.

“Wait for me!” Polo said, disappearing behind the couch after him.

“Sparkles! Catch!” The white cat tossed something to Tulip, who caught it awkwardly against her chest. “Hit record, Wallace. NOW!”

Wallace hit record.