The Smurfs 2 Movie Novelization (Smurfs Movie) - Softcover

Stacia Deutsch is the author of more than fifty children’s books, including the eight-book, award-winning chapter book series Blast to the Past. She has also written the tween novel Mean Ghouls as well as books for the Nancy Drew and the Clue Crew and The Boxcar Children series. Stacia has been on the New York Times bestseller list for the novelizations of the Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and The Smurfs movies. For new releases and school visit information visit StaciaDeutsch.com.

The Smurfs 2 Movie Novelization
Chapter 1

“Once upon a time . . .” Narrator Smurf opened the storybook and began to read, “in Smurf Village, happy Smurfs were going about their happy lives completely unaware that not too far away . . .” He turned to the next page and stared for a moment at the 3-D pop-up of a dark and crumbling castle. Narrator Smurf frowned, then went on. “. . . the evil wizard Gargamel was concocting a diabolical plan.”

Narrator pulled a tab and a menacing paper cutout of Gargamel wearing a flowing black robe and bold red shoes rose from the page.

Creepy background music began to play as Narrator continued. “The kind of diabolical plan that is always followed by a diabolical laugh. And that plan echoed fear through the mushroom homes of the Smurfs.”

The music was too loud. Narrator couldn’t hear himself reading. He lowered the book and took a long look at the nearby band of Smurfs. Everyone had a musical instrument, except Crazy Smurf, who was playing his trumpet-mouth.

He told Smooth Smurf, the director, “Guys, guys. If you drown out the narrator, no one’s gonna have any idea what’s going on.”

“That’s cool,” Smooth said in a deep voice. “We’ll just give you a groove, something bluesy.”

The band quickly quieted down.

Narrator cleared his throat. He pretended he was Gargamel, saying, “I am making my own creation—an irresistible girl to infiltrate their village and betray the Smurfs.”

There was a drawing of Smurfette on the next page. But this wasn’t the Smurfette the Smurfs loved. This was an old version of her with long black hair. Narrator ran a paintbrush over the image. Smurfette’s pale skin turned blue.

“The Smurfs found Gargamel’s creation and brought her back to their village, where her wild and naughty nature wreaked havoc.”

Narrator held the pictures up so everyone could see: Smurfette knocked over Painter’s ladder. She stomped on Brainy’s glasses. She was destroying things on purpose!

“The Smurfs wanted her gone.” Narrator unfolded a scene of Papa’s mushroom home, with several angry Smurfs waiting outside. “But Papa Smurf saw the good in her. With love, kindness, playful jokes, more love, delicious fruit pies, long walks, and, of course, a secret magical formula, he turned her into Smurfette, the darling of Smurf Village.”

Narrator opened a pop-up door to Papa’s mushroom. Inside, there was a cardboard cutout of the new, improved Smurfette. Her hair was now blond and her smile was sincere.

Narrator Smurf smiled. “It was a day we will never forget. The day our Smurfette was reborn.”

With a happy sigh, Narrator Smurf looked up. The entire village had come to hear the reading of Smurfette’s story.

They were gathered at the edge of a beautiful pond. As Narrator shut the book, he pointed upward to a cliff just above the water.

Smurfette stepped into view, her smile beaming. She raised her arms and performed a perfect triple flip with a twist, landing gracefully into the water.

The Smurfs applauded wildly.

“And the Smurf family had grown one bigger.” That was the end of the story.

Or was it?

Smurfette climbed out of the pond. With her back turned, she shook out her wet hair. Then she turned around.

“Stupid, trusting Smurfs!” Smurfette roared. Her face was sinister. The blond from her hair faded to midnight black. “You’re ours now!” She looked down into the pond’s murky depths and called, “Oh, Father!”

Lightning flashed through the sky. Gargamel rose from the pond. Water violently bubbled around him. He towered above the Smurfs like a giant.

“Well done, Daughter,” Gargamel chuckled.

Panicky Smurf shouted, “It’s alive! It’s alive!”

The Smurfs began to run.

“She tricked us!” Handy Smurf yelled.

“She’s turning back!” Greedy exclaimed as Smurfette’s skin grew pasty pale.

“Smurf for the hills!” Baker rushed down a narrow path.

“The world as we know it is over!” Panicky followed Baker as Gargamel prepared to pounce.

Crazy Smurf blew his trumpet-mouth in alarm.

The Smurfs were quick, but Smurfette was faster. She got in front of them and waved an ornately carved dragon wand. A blast of blue energy threw Crazy Smurf into the sky.

Gargamel praised Smurfette. “Yes, my beautiful creation! You truly are Daddy’s little girl!”

The wizard rubbed his hands together with delight.

Finally the Smurfs were his . . .

“AAHHHH!” Smurfette screamed as she awoke.

She bolted up in bed, wide-eyed and sweating.

Papa Smurf was there, sitting on the edge of her mattress. He rubbed his white beard while the bad dream faded away.

“Oh Papa.” Smurfette lunged forward and threw her arms around him.

Papa held her close, patting her back until she calmed down. “There, there. It’s okay. Having that nightmare again?”

Smurfette nodded, choking back her tears.



Narrator Smurf continued the story where he’d left off. He was standing at the foot of Smurfette’s bed. “And so, once again, on the eve of her birthday, poor Smurfette is haunted by horrible dreams of the ‘Who am I?’ and ‘Where did I come from?’ variety, which can push even the sweetest of Smurfs to the brink of insanity—”

“Okay, Narrator Smurf. That’ll do.” Papa Smurf pointed at the mushroom door.

With a groan, Narrator took his storybook and left the room.

Smurfette lay back on her pillows. “Papa, every year on the eve of my birthday, I have these horrible dreams about where I came from—and it makes me wonder who I really am.”

Papa took her hand in his and squeezed. “And every year I tell you: It doesn’t matter where you came from. What matters is who you choose to be.”

Smurfette wasn’t so sure.

“Don’t take this old Smurf’s word for it,” Papa told her. “Go out there and see for yourself. This is where you belong.”