Waffles Skis the Splatterhorn
By Steve Cleverley and Sanj Sen
Shhh… can you hear that? It’s the schussing sound of a little Moshling bear skiing slowly down the snowy, moonlit slopes of the mighty Splatterhorn. His name is Waffles… and this is his story. So snuggle down, cosy up and relax.
Shhhhh, down a mountain
Down a mountain
Down a mountain
Drifting slowly into snowy starlit dreams and moonbeams up ahead
Way up in the mountains, slaloming through trees
A dreamy little Moshling is swooshing down on skis
The swishing sound his skis make is peaceful, even soothing
And as he makes his slow descent it’s hard to not start snoozing
This Moshling’s name is Waffles, a kind of polar bear
With earmuffs and a matching scarf, and pure white fluffy hair
He skis at night to clear his mind, from twilight through to dawn
For this is Waffles’ mountain, the mighty Splatterhorn
Schussing through the moonlit snow helps Waffles to relax
But gliding down the piste tonight, he spots some fresh ski tracks
“Another Moshling’s skiing here?” thinks Waffles, then he sees
A little Snowtot just ahead, ‘bend-ze-ing’ his knees
Shhhhh, down a mountain
Down a mountain
Down a mountain
Drifting slowly into snowy starlit dreams and moonbeams up ahead
Right beside the Snowtot now, Waffles says, “Hello…
… I see you also like the sound of skis upon fresh snow?”
“Oh yes,” replies the Snowtot, “I love to ski at night…
Especially when the Splatterhorn is bathed in pale moonlight”
Waffles and the Snowtot agree to ski together
And as they do they chat about the constant chilly weather
The Snowtot’s name is Tomba, a very friendly chap
With button eyes, a carrot nose and fluffy beanie hat
Halfway down the mountain now, the pair start feeling weary
So they choose to take an easier route, it seems a prudent theory
But as a cloud obscures the moon, it’s hard to see ahead
And Waffles and his Snowtot buddy wish they’d stayed in bed
Shhhhh, down a mountain
Down a mountain
Down a mountain
Drifting slowly into snowy starlit dreams and moonbeams up ahead
Despite the visibility, our snowy friends continue
And there beneath a frosty pine, they see a little igloo
Just beside its entrance, a Moshling’s getting ready
He’s putting on his scarf and mitts and talking to his teddy
“Night night Teddy,” says the Moshling, “Don’t wait up for me…
I need to get some night air so I’m going for a ski”
Waffles and his new friend Tomba wave as they pass by
And as they do the moon appears and brightens up the sky
“My name’s Franz,” the Moshling says, “Can I ski with you?”
“Of course you can,” the friends reply, “Welcome to our crew”
The three of them glide gracefully, carving through the snow
As starlight floods the mountain with a wondrous twilight glow
Shhhhh, down a mountain
Down a mountain
Down a mountain
Drifting slowly into snowy starlit dreams and moonbeams up ahead
Waffles, Franz and Tomba now start skiing slightly slower
The powdery snow gets firmer as they zig-zag lower and lower
Up ahead a rockface looms, and things feel somewhat colder
So Waffles leads the gang towards a tunnel by a boulder
Entering the passageway our friends are stunned and awed
They’re skiing through a tunnel that feels warm yet hasn’t thawed
Its walls are glazed with shimmering ice, and icicles hang down
While gemstones light the crunchy snow, like sequins in a gown
The tunnel starts to widen as they gradually descend
Then as the exit beckons, Waffles spots another friend
It’s a Moshling known as Gracie, and she asks to tag along
So our trio’s now a quartet and they sing their sleepy song
Shhhhh, down a mountain
Down a mountain
Down a mountain
Drifting slowly into snowy starlit dreams and moonbeams up ahead
Waffles, Tomba, Franz and Gracie now feel very tired
But thanks to their amazing journey, all four feel inspired
They schuss along the lower slopes towards a cable car
Which only takes you back home when you wish upon a star
As fresh snow starts to fall once more they see the lower station
And twinkling lights across the valley form a constellation
The Moshlings led by Waffles then remove their little skis
And look back up the Splatterhorn, which always guarantees…
…To fill you with a sense of wonder, even in your dreams
Cos up above the world of Moshi, nothing’s as it seems
Maybe Waffles skis the mountain purely in his mind
Either way, it does the trick and helps him to unwind
Shhhhh, down a mountain
Down a mountain
Down a mountain
Drifting slowly into snowy starlit dreams and moonbeams up ahead
Now inside the cable car, our pals are warm and snug
And as they near the summit, Waffles gives his friends a hug
“Goodnight, Tomba, Goodnight Gracie, Goodnight to you Franz”
Says Waffles as the four of them look down while holding hands
The mountain looks magnificent, the stars above are glimmering
While frosted slopes and snow-clad trees start twinkling and shimmering
The cable car stops several times to drop off Waffles’ friends
But the summit of the Splatterhorn is where our story ends
For way up here’s where Waffles puts his head down every night
In a chalet caked in snow and ice that’s hidden out of sight
He snuggles up in beddybies, content for the time being
And drifts off dreaming all about his night of twilight skiing
Goodnight…