Banjo-Kazooie Rare Prologue – Story So Far…

At last, the dirty green and blue smog was beginning to clear. Gruntilda the witch stood at the topmost window of her Lair, grinning wickedly down on her newly discovered world like a thundercloud before a storm.
“Tiny creatures far below,” she cackled, “which of you’ll be first to go?”
The witch rubbed her hands in glee at the prospect of becoming even more lovely than she already was. Landing somewhere new was always exciting – and judging by all the puffing and clanking coming from the next room, it seemed as if her greatest invention felt the same way. And what an invention it was! A machine that could suck out the physical beauty from its victims, ready for Gruntilda to absorb like a sponge!
The witch rubbed the graceful curve of her chin with pride. Nobody else would even have dreamed of creating such a marvellous thing, she thought. Least of all her pretty sister, Brentilda. How dare that interfering do-gooder inherit the family good looks and not her? How dare she be born with a face so angelic when Gruntilda had always been… well… slightly disadvantaged in that department?
Thanks to her mechanical pride and joy in the next room, though, Gruntilda knew that all that would soon change. Hah! At last she could become beautiful beyond her wildest dreams!
Picking her nose in a particularly smug manner, the witch turned her attention away from the window to the bubbling cauldron nearby, and began to cast the truth spell – a spell which, she thought, would confirm her place as the most wonderfully attractive creature on this latest world of hers…

Meanwhile, Tooty was enjoying the warmth of the sun and the happy birdsong all around as she skipped home through the deep green fields of Spiral Mountain. The young bear had spent a carefree couple of hours out piping amongst the woodland animals, and now she was heading back to have another try at waking that big lazy brother of hers.
Just as the cosy little house that she shared with Banjo and Kazooie came into view up ahead, Tooty slowed down to watch a nearby molehill tremble, splutter and sprout a pair of blurry eyes that could only belong to her good friend Bottles.
“Hi there, Bottles!” beamed the young bear.
“Morning, Tooty,” blinked the mole as his round little body came up out of the hole with a pop. “And what are your plans for this lovely day?”
Tooty jumped up and down excitedly as his words reminded her of Banjo’s promise. “Oh! I’m going to get my lazy brother out of bed, and we’re going on an adventure!” she squealed.
Bottles smiled absent-mindedly at her. “That’ll be nice,” he said, then squinted up into the sky over her shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that your brother up there?”
Tooty turned to look, and saw an odd shape swooping down towards them at high speed.
“No, I don’t think that’s Banjo,” she said, frowning. “I wonder who it could be…”

Sweeter than me? Prettier than me? Impossible!
Gruntilda was so furious at the cauldron’s words that she wasn’t really concentrating on flying her broomstick, and had to pull up sharply as her boots clipped the top of a fence. This only made her even angrier than before, and she found herself screeching abuse at thin air.
“As cute as me, you stupid pot? For her own sake, I hope she’s not!”
The witch zoomed recklessly on through the skies until her intended target came into view: the unnecessarily cute young bear shown to her by that treacherous cauldron, staring up now from the field far below.
Gruntilda snorted. “I need those looks far more than she, and finally perfect I shall be!”
With a loud scream and a cackle, the witch took aim and sent the broomstick into a dive.

Kazooie popped out of the backpack in alarm as noise erupted just outside the window.
“Banjo! Banjo!” she squawked, recognising two of the three yelling voices as those of Tooty and Bottles the mole. “Banjo, wake up!”
The Honey Bear groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. “Aww, leave me alone, Kazooie, it’s too early,” came his muffled voice.
“This is no time to be lazy, Banjo!” trilled the Breegull, her anxious fidgeting causing the backpack to swing to and fro on the hatstand it hung from. “We’ve got trouble! Pull yourself together!”
Banjo groaned again, rolled over, and was about to say something else when Kazooie’s struggles proved too much for the supporting stand, toppling it onto the floor with a crash and an undignified squawk.
The Honey Bear jumped out of bed in surprise, just as the curtains flapped open with the backlash from something launching itself at high speed from his front lawn. And beneath the manic cackling that reached him on the wind, he heard the helpless cries of a voice he recognised… Tooty’s!
Banjo gulped and searched the room for his feathered friend, realising that this was definitely going to be one of those days.
“Uh, Kazooie, what are you doing down there?” he said in confusion, snatching up the backpack as he bolted for the door. “This is no time to be lazy – we’ve got trouble!”