Elizabella and the Great Tuckshop Takeover

by Zoe Norton Lodge

  She read from it:

  STEP ONE:

  TAKE OVER BILBY CREEK TUCKSHOP

  STEP TWO:

  TAKE OVER ALL BILBY CREEK EATERIES AND FOOD OUTLETS

  STEP THREE:

  START GYM FRANCHISE?

  STEP FOUR:

  TAKE OVER THE WORLD

  The reporter turned to the camera and started talking. “We’re live here at Bilby Creek Primary, where we have just discovered that Nutriicorporation, whose products have been popping up on our supermarket shelves, have a secret mission of global domination. More on this exclusive shortly!”

  Minnie put up her hand and gave Elizabella a massive high five. “Excellent work, comrade.”

  Elizabella nodded. “Thanks. There’s just one more thing I have to do.” She walked over to Mr Gobblefrump with a piece of paper.

  “Do you know what this is?” she asked.

  “Is it the last verse of the school song?” said Mr Gobblefrump.

  Elizabella looked at him and smiled. “You didn’t think I’d miss out on a writing competition, did you?”

  Mr Gobblefrump looked around his playground. Children were gorging themselves on bug treats while others ran a very long race around the giant pikelet. Miss Duck was fielding questions from all over the place and receiving offerings from the Nutriicorp workers who, now believing the pikelet was some sort of god, thought Miss Duck was the Pikelet God’s mum. They came to her with items from the tuckshop – cling wrap, a whisk, a carton of eggs – and they would bow before her and exclaim, “All Hail the Pikelet God and the Pikelet God’s Mum!”

  Mr Gobblefrump took in the display. He couldn’t deny the ridiculous effort Miss Duck had gone to try to get her job back. In fact, she had pulled off the impossible, with a little help from the Champion of the Impossible – Elizabella, of course. And, on top of everything else that had been grating on him about Nutriicorp, it had now come to light that the company actually had a diabolical notion to take over the entire world, which Mr Gobblefrump simply couldn’t support. So he decided to make an announcement there and then.

  “Say, you there!” he called out to the reporter. The reporter came at once, his microphone outstretched, ready to receive the breaking news. “As this pikelet is my witness,” Mr Gobblefrump said, gesturing to the magnificent snack, “I hereby declare Nutriicorp fired from the tuckshop.” He turned to Miss Duck and got down on one knee.

  Miss Duck looked horrified. Surely he wasn’t going to propose in all this excitement? They had been on a few dates the term before, but this was absurd.

  “Miss Duck,” he said, looking into her eyes, “Will you come back? Forever and ever until for a better job do you part?”

  “Oh, thank goodness!” Miss Duck exclaimed, equally relieved to have her job back and not be receiving a marriage proposal.

  “Ah, Miss Duck . . .?” Mr Gobblefrump was staring at her anxiously. She technically hadn’t answered the question.

  “Mr Gobblefrump,” she began. Miss Duck was very tempted to throw her arms around him and say, “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” just like people said in the movies, but she needed to be smart. “I would of course love to come back,” she said. Mr Gobblefrump began to draw in a big breath of delight. “However,” she continued.

  “However?” Mr Gobblefrump repeated, suddenly terrified the great woman would say no.

  “However, you mustn’t pull a stunt like this on me again. The Duck Family Tuckshop Legacy is a very important thing indeed, and not to be trifled with!”

  “Wow!” Minnie whispered to Elizabella. “Great speech!”

  “I didn’t write that,” Elizabella said, beaming proudly at Miss Duck. “That was just her passion speaking for itself.”

  Miss Duck’s words had been clear and firm, and she had surprised everyone. Not least of all herself. But she wasn’t done.

  “And I want a raise!” she blurted out. Suddenly the news cameras and eyes of everyone gathered turned to Mr Gobblefrump. After everything that had happened, and with the attention of all of Bilby Creek squarely on him, there was only one answer he could give. Just like in the movies.

  “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” he exclaimed.

  “Wow!” said Irma. “Mr Gobblefrump is giving Miss Duck a thousand times raise!”

  A succession of “Wow!”s and “What a guy!”s rang through the playground. Mr Gobblefrump began to panic.

  “Ah, yes, we will work out the finer details later. For now, there is a giant pikelet that demands dealing with! Elizabella, I assume you have a plan for this?” he said, turning to her.

  “Errrmmm . . .” Elizabella’s brain started working overtime. Her grand plan had gone so far as to make the pikelet, but she hadn’t thought what would be done with it afterwards. Then she felt a little tug on her school shorts. It was Samuel from Kindy.

  “Elizabella, what if you cut the pikelet into little bits and pieces and pack it up and give it to the Shelter for Bilby Creek Citizens in Need?” he said.

  She looked down at the little boy, with his bright hazel eyes beaming up at her. “Samuel. You’re really, really smart.” Samuel blushed. And behind him Elizabella noticed Huck blushing too. See, Huck had had exactly the same idea and was about to tell Elizabella himself, but Samuel beat him to it. And just now when Elizabella said Samuel was smart, it made Huck jealous. Even though Samuel was just a Kindy kid. Elizabella had done a great job of ignoring her Huck Feelings since the end of last term, but in this split second she couldn’t.

  “Huck,” she said, “will you be captain of cutting up the giant pikelet?” she asked.

  “Will I!?” he exclaimed. “Is the grass green? Do cows moo? Are Nutriicorp Essence-of-Carob-Flavoured Toads gross?” he said.

  He put his hands together to get started. “Okay! How will we do this? Does anyone have a giant plastic safety knife?”

  “No! Don’t hurt the pikelet!” screamed a Nutriicorp worker.

  “He wants to kill our god!” said another.

  And in a flash all the Nutriicorp workers had locked eyes on Huck and were coming towards him, with their eyes wide and scowls on their faces, all of them beginning to remove their navy blazers at once as though they were readying for a fight.

  “Greetings!” Minnie said, and they all turned to her, “Do you know how the giant pikelet sleeps?” she asked.

  They all stopped and scratched their heads.

  “Ah, no.”

  “Nope.”

  “No idea.”

  “Well,” Minnie said, “in order for the Pikelet God to sleep, it has to be cut up into very small pieces.”

  “Really?” one of the Nutriicorp workers said. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes!” said Elizabella, jumping in. “And their beds are cardboard takeaway boxes! Do you guys know where we could get some of those?” she asked, knowing full well the tuckshop was jam-packed with them.

  “Do we ever!” one of them cried.

  “Let’s get the beds for the pikelet!” cried another.

  And before long, the Nutriicorp workers were all assembled around the pikelet, gingerly cutting it into little pieces and putting it in boxes under the watchful eye of Huck, who was delighted to be the captain of this operation. Miss Duck and Mr Gobblefrump looked on.

  Then Mr Gobblefrump heard a distinct “Bah, humbug!” coming from the roof. “Ah yes,” he said. “There’s that small issue to deal with too.”

  Miss Duck looked up to see grumpy Grandpa Nutriicorp saying “Phooey! Phooey! Phooey!” as he looked down on all his workers who had betrayed him.

  “Leave it with me,” she said.

  “Really?” asked Mr Gobblefrump.

  “Well, it’s my tuckshop,” Miss Duck explained. “I’m responsible for any creatures on the roof.” And with that, Miss Duck grabbed Mr Gobblefrump’s megaphone and marched over to the tuckshop.

  “Grandpa Nutriicorp! If you come down from there, I’ll give you a bowl of chocolate-coated dragonflies!” she said. Miss Duck
picked one up and took a big bite. “Listen to that crunch!” she said.

  Grandpa Nutriicorp’s ears pricked up at the sound. He couldn’t resist a sweet with a good crunch. And in a few minutes he was down off the roof eating and talking with Miss Duck. After he’d had a cup of tea and calmed his wits, he decided that he very much liked Miss Duck and her delicious insects and enormous pikelet. He even felt a little bad about taking her job. They started talking about all the types of food they liked, even sharing recipe ideas. It turned out Miss Duck and Grandpa Nutriicorp had quite a bit in common.

  “You know, Miss Duck, I would like to make amends for trying to run an evil corporation,” he said through a mouthful of dragonfly. “I feel my conscience is dirty and I would like to scrub it clean somehow.”

  Miss Duck thought about his problem. Then she had an idea.

  “Well, if I’m back at the tuckshop, someone needs to take over from me at the Shelter for Bilby Creek Citizens in Need,” she said.

  “Indeed they do!” said Grandpa Nutriicorp, “But who could do such a thing . . .?”

  Miss Duck looked at him, shocked he wasn’t getting the hint.

  “You, of course!” she said.

  “Me? Evil Grandpa Nutriicorp?”

  “Just Grandpa Nutriicorp,” she said. “I don’t think you’re evil. In fact, I think you’re a pussycat.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. And I love pussycats. I have pictures of them on almost all my clothes.” She smiled.

  “Well, if you think I can, I’ll do it!” he exclaimed.

  Elizabella and Minnie watched on as the Nutriicorp workers packed up the last of the pikelets, Miss Duck and Grandpa Nutriicorp chatted away like old friends, Mr Gobblefrump talked to the news reporter and the Guinness World Records person and all the children ran about eating insects and having a great time. They were satisfied.

  “Great work, comrade,” said Minnie to Elizabella.

  “Agreed,” she replied. Then suddenly she remembered something.

  Between bringing down an evil corporation, breaking a Guinness World Record and writing the final verse of the school song, Elizabella and Minnie had completely forgotten . . .

  “Minnie!” cried Elizabella. “We never did Operation Bin Puppets!”

  “Well,” said Minnie, “let’s do it now.”

  “Let’s do the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet,” suggested Elizabella.

  “I don’t know it!” said Minnie.

  “It’s easy. By the time we’ve stuck doughnuts on the bin lids for eyes, you’ll know it backwards.”

  “Okay,” said Minnie. “But can you teach me in Minbella?”

  “Interesting idea,” said Elizabella, “but people won’t understand it.”

  “That’s true,” agreed Minnie, “but no one really understands regular Shakespearean words anyway, so who cares?”

  “Good point!” said Elizabella. As they started to walk towards the tuckshop to see if there were any doughnuts left lying around in the commotion, Elizabella began to teach her friend; “O Blomeo, Blomeo! Blerefore blart blough Blomeo?”

  Bilby Creek Primary School Song

  Written by the students of Bilby Creek Primary School

  The school was built a hundred years ago

  The uniform then included a chapeau

  That’s how you say hat in French

  And if you’re not wearing one you must sit on the bench

  [CHORUS]

  Bilby Creek Primary We may not have a creek or indeed a bilby

  But we always try our best, and that’s the key

  To our Bilby Creek Primary School family

  Darren Darrenson the explorer wasn’t a knowledge geek

  He thought kangaroos were bilbies and dog wee was a creek

  That’s why it’s important to stay awake at school

  So when you have an adult job you don’t look like a fool

  [CHORUS]

  Lots of cool people went to school here

  Like the mayor, a spy, a pop star and a civil engineer

  In the playground there is handball, everywhere you look

  And Mr Gobblefrump watches with his School Rule Book

  [CHORUS]

  Nutriicorp reigned supreme for a while

  But the way they operated wasn’t Bilby Creek style

  So we kicked them out and said good luck

  And reinstated the tuckshop queen Miss Duck.

  “Little Red, don’t go messing about picking flowers or talking to possums or whatever on your way to grandma’s house!” Little Red’s mother warned her, as she finished putting together a basket of goodies for Little Red to take as a gift.

  “Muuuumm! I won’t. I’ll go straight there, like you always say to do!” Little Red said.

  Her mother frowned. “Between our place and grandma’s is one path. Sure, it’s surrounded by beautiful forest, which looks perfect for frolicking, but you have to promise to stay on the path and go straight to Grandma’s house without straying.”

  Little Red sighed. “Muuuum! I know where grandma’s house is. I’ve been there a billion times. Unless a space alien has come down and picked up the house in his slimy space arms and moved Grandma’s house. Has a space alien done that, Mum? Has it?”

  “Just don’t stray off the path!” her mother cautioned.

  “I won’t!” And with that, Little Red swished her cape dramatically and closed the front door, saying, “Slam!” for added effect as she did, forgetting to bring the basket of goodies with her.

  “Silly old mum, always telling me what to do,” Little Red huffed. “Doesn’t she know I’m thirteen years old and know exactly how to walk to Grandma’s house without getting lost or straying off the path? Oh, look, a mouse!” she said, becoming distracted immediately.

  As she was talking to herself, Little Red managed to walk off the path and become completely lost. In fact it was so early in her journey that her mum could still see her from their house.

  “Little Red, are you lost already!?” her mum yelled from the window.

  Little Red spun around with a start. She turned red from the embarrassment.

  “No I’m not, Mum! Shut up! You can’t see what’s going on properly because of your bad eyes. Go to the optometrist and leave me alone!”

  And Little Red continued to follow the mouse. It scurried through the canopy of autumn leaves, so fast that Little Red could barely spy it at all. Instead, she could see the leaves jumping in a line, which was the path the mouse was taking. Little Red skipped along, her eyes on the ground, following the mouse under the leaves until she hit something big and furry.

  “Umm, hello. Can I help you, furry thing in my path?” she said to the furry thing in her path.

  “Hello,” said the thing. “You’re visiting your grandma, yes?”

  “Yes, what’s it to you, ummmm . . .”

  “The name’s Bigabadawolfatina,” said the thing.

  “Ah, okay. Weird. I’m Little Red. What do you want?”

  “Just to tell you that you might want to pick some flowers for your lovely grandma on the way. Don’t you suppose?”

  Hmmmm . . . thought Little Red. “I could pick some flowers . . .” Or I could call the news because I’ve found a talking wolf and that’s pretty newsworthy.

  Little Red looked at her phone. Only ten percent battery. If I call the news I won’t be able to play Annoyed Bats, which is my favourite phone game . . .

  “An excellent choice, pick some flowers for your grandma!” said Bigabadawolfatina.

  “Bleugh . . . I can’t be bothered,” Little Red said. “Maybe I’ll just get back on the path and go to Grandma’s.” Then she heard her mother’s voice in her head: Little Red, you stay on the path, you little naughty gnat!

  “No!” she exclaimed out loud. If there was one thing that was going to override her laziness, it was her desire not to follow her mum’s rules. “I will pick those flowers! And dawdle and follow mice and stuff and I’ll get
to Grandma’s however I want when I stinking well please!”

  “Excellent!” said Bigabadawolfatina. “Ignore your mum, what does she know anyway? Don’t rush, get as lost as you like! It’s only a forest, what could go wrong? Excuse me!”

  And Bigabadawolfatina scuttled off sneakily, saying “Scuttle, scuttle, scuttle,” as she went, emphasising her sneakiness.

  Little Red flitted and skitted about the forest, talking to blades of grass and rocks and bugs and occasionally picking flowers. Hours later, after becoming incredibly lost and getting directions from a friendly cicada, she somehow stumbled upon her grandma’s house.

  “Knock, knock, knock!” she said, knocking on the door.

  The door opened, and the thing that opened it said, “Mmyyyyyesss?”

  “Hello?” said Little Red.

  “Hello, granddaughter!” said the thing. “It is I, your grandma!”

  Little Red looked the thing up and down. “Nah, you’re that talking wolf from before, but in a nightie.”

  “Whatever are you talking about?”

  “I might be lazy and ignore my mum all the time, but I’m not oblivious.”

  “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?” said Bigabadawolfatina, feigning innocence.

  “I can tell you’re a talking wolf dressed up like my grandma,” Little Red said. “This time I’m calling the news!”

  And with that, Little Red pulled out her mobile. “Siri, call the news!” she yelled at the device.

  Several minutes later, a TV crew were there interviewing Little Red and the wolf.

  “Wow, a talking wolf! You’re amazing,” said the reporter.

  “I am?” said Bigabadawolfatina, blushing. “I had no idea.”

  Little Red’s mum had arrived now. She was worried and had come looking for Little Red, who should have been home hours ago.

  “Little Red,” she said, “WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO LEARN TO STAY ON THE PATH?”

  “MUM!” Little Red screamed back. “I see what you’re saying and I won’t do it again, but I FOUND A TALKING WOLF AND CALLED THE NEWS so can you stop getting me in trouble in front of THE NEWS?”