This is StoryQuest. Today's story is Nicobocca and the Nachos.

Nickabocka was a raccoon with a very serious problem. He loved nachos. Not just likes them, not just enjoyed them on special occasions. Nicobocca loved nachos. Not just likes them, not just enjoyed them on special occasions.

Nicar Bocca loved nachos, the way the moon loves the night, the way socks love disappearing in

the laundry, crunchy nachos, cheesy nachos, nachos with beans, salsa and extra cheese,

and a little umbrella stuck in the middle for no reason at all.

Nickerbocker lived behind Pete's Taco Palace in a cozy alley that smelled like coriander and hope.

Every night at exactly seven minutes past eight, the kitchen window would open and out would drift the most beautiful smell Nicobocca had ever known.

Nacho o'clock, he whispered, rubbing his tiny raccoon hands together. Now, Nicobocca wasn't just any raccoon.

He was really funny. When he walked, he tiptoed like a ballet dancer. When he laughed, he snorted

like a hiccuping accordion. And when he wore his favorite red bandana, which he did every day, he tied it in a bow on top of his head instead of around his neck.

No one expect to raccoon with a bow, he always said wisely.

One night, just as Nickerbocker was preparing his usual plan, climb the crate,

shimmy the pipe, wave politely at the cook, something terrible happened. The kitchen window

did not open. Nickabocker froze. He checked his invisible watch. Eight minutes past eight,

still closed. Nine minutes past eight, still closed.

Nine minutes past eight.

No nachos.

The smell was gone.

Then he saw the sign taped to the door.

Closed tomorrow.

Town festival tonight.

All cheese reserved.

...