Jimmy, The Glue Factory and Mad Mr Viscous

by Gerrard Wllson

it,” he grumbled, “that the sound of water has this effect on me?” Recalling the glass of water he drunk, he hissed. “I wish I had left it be.”

  After poking his way through the darkness for several minutes, the sound appeared closer. Jimmy could hear it, he believed that he could even smell it, but he could not yet touch it. “This is driving me bananas!” he growled. “I’m wasting so much time, stuck in here, wherever it is, when I should be out there, saving those horses.” As if to lend credence to his words, Jimmy heard a familiar whooshing sound. “Oh no!” he bemoaned, knowing only too well that blood red smoke was making its way up the tall, factory chimneys.

  “I don’t what I’m going to do about Jim,” Eric grumbled, pushing hard on his spade, digging under the electrified fence, “getting me into such dire situations, I really don’t.” Hearing something, the sound of footsteps approaching, Eric darted for cover. Concealed within the skeleton of a raspberry bush, he watched as two burly guards approached the fence.

  “Keep an eye out,” the first guard ordered. “There’s another one of them out here, somewhere.

  Inspecting the fence, but missing the beginnings of the hole beneath it, the second guard tossed at twig at it. The twig burst into flames. Laughing, he said, “Well, the little blighter won’t be cutting a hole, here.”

  Waiting, not daring to move, not even a finger until the sound of the guards’ footsteps disappeared into the distance, Eric wondered all over again how Jimmy had managed to get into such a situation. Creeping out from behind the raspberry bush, Eric ambled across to the fence. Peering through, he saw the smouldering remains of the twig on the cold ground. Gulping hard, he said, “They must have turned the power up, way up, to have done that. Pushing hard on his spade, daring to continue, avoiding the deadly fence, Eric resumed his digging.

  A light, Jimmy saw a speck of light ahead of him. A smile of hope creeping onto his face, he followed the beckoning beacon. The dripping sound became louder and louder until it was so loud, so close to him, Jimmy felt as if he could reach out and touch it. Peculiarly, it smelt quite different from water. Continuing through the darkness, towards the light beckoning him on, Jimmy studied it with a growing curiosity and interest. You see, the nearer he got to the light, the more it took on the appearance of a huge eye. Halting some twenty feet in front of it, Jimmy stared at the light, the eye, and it stared unblinkingly back at him.

  Challenged by this huge eye, Jimmy’s gumption suddenly failed. Edging away, he considered retreat. However, remembering the Mr and the Madam, and the extra course to their meal, he thought better of it. “What shall I do?” he grumbled. “And why is that eye staring at me, so?” Having no other option other than proceeding, Eric, summoning his faltering gumption, traversed the last few yards to the eye. When he got there, up close and personal, he cried out in surprise, “It isn’t an eye at all!” Reaching out, touching it, he inspected what he had found...

  Stepping away from the newly excavated hole, Eric briefly admired his work. Clambering in, he passed ever so carefully beneath the electrified fence, and into the factory grounds. “Hmm,” he said, staring down at the hole. “That stands out like a sore thumb. When the guards see it, they’ll be on to me, and pronto.” Darting across the lawn, Eric disappeared into the greenery of a huge Lawson Cyprus tree. Emerging, moments later, with an armful of branches, he returned to the hole, spreading the greenery across it. “It not much, but it’s better than nothing.” Returning to the selfsame tree, he said, “Thank heavens for Lawson Cyprus trees.” With that, he disappeared into its depths.

  Reaching out to the eye that was in reality a stained-glass window, Jimmy inspected it in detail. “Why on earth is it hidden, secreted away in so dark a spot?” he mused, inspecting it further. “Perhaps it’s for effect,” he mused, admiring the red and yellow glass, and the light shining through it. Touching the glass, Jimmy felt the windowpane move. It was open. Pushing it, revolving the window panel, Jimmy screwed up his eyes as the bright light beyond shone through. Lifting his hands, shielding his eyes from the bright light, Jimmy feared he had opened Pandora’s Box. It was not Pandora’s Box, however, not by a long chalk. Yes, the light was intense, but his eyes soon got used to it, and when they did, Jimmy saw the room beyond awaiting his inspection. Scrambling his way through the window, he heard the drip, dripping sound of whatever it was getting louder and louder.

  That’s Certainly Not Water

  Clambering through the open window, Jimmy entered the brightly lit room. “This is more like it,” he said happily, admiring the bright – and huge – space he had entered. Then he saw it; he saw the source of the dripping sound – a thick copper pipe protruding from one of the white painted walls. Staring at the pipe, Jimmy gasped in shock and horror, for the substance dripping out from it was GLUE! He watched, disgusted, as the thick, sticky substance oozing out from the pipe collected in a huge barrel, vat, beneath it. “Horse glue!” he gasped. “And so much of it!” Moreover, he was right, for adjacent this barrel were many others, all of them filled to the brim with glue. Painted on the side of each barrel, in huge black letters, were the words, ‘Best Quality Glue.’

  It took Jimmy some considerable time to recover after seeing this, but when he did, he was more determined than ever to save the remaining horses. “I’ve got to save them – and quick,” he cried out, “before that madman, Mr Viscous, has them all rendered into glue!”

  Outside, reappearing from the depths of the huge tree, Eric, camouflaged with branches and greenery requisitioned from it, made his way across the expanse of lawn, towards the factory. “I hope Jim’s doing better than I am,” he grumbled. “All that I seem to be doing is darting between trees…” Spotting one of the guards, he dived for cover under the skeleton of a cherry tree. Flattening his body to the ground, he bemoaned, “Cherry trees – I hate them!”

  The guard passed within mere inches of Eric, but he never noticed him secreted beneath the bare tree. “Phew, that was close,” he whispered. Darting away from the tree, running fast and furious, Eric made a beeline for a particularly large Horse Chestnut tree…

  Inside the factory, listening to the sound of the thick, gelatinous glue dripping slowly into the barrel, Jimmy’s grey matter was devising a plan. “Hmm,” he said. “That pipe gives me an idea…”

  Carefully opening the door, he peered outside, to see if anyone was about. The coast was clear. The only thing visible was the glue-filled pipe suspended from the ceiling, running the entire length of the corridor, disappearing from sight around the corner. Following the pipe, Jimmy also disappeared around the corner.

  The further Jimmy followed the pipe, into the very bowels of the factory, where the machinery was whirring, buzzing, slashing, chopping – and munching, carrying out its terrible business, the more he felt someone was watching him. Although he repeatedly stopped, trying to spot whoever it was, he saw nothing. “This is ridiculous,” he griped, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny before him. “I know there’s someone, there, so why can’t I see him?”

  Once again stopping dead in his tracks, thinking he saw someone hiding within the complicated machinery, he barked, “I saw you! Who are you? Come out and show yourself!” However, he received no reply. With all of his senses on high alert, Jimmy thought he saw someone else, another person, skulking behind a different piece of machinery. “Who are you?” he asked. Yet again, he received no reply.

  Creeping surreptitiously between the machinery that was still whirring, buzzing, slashing, chopping – and munching as if there was no tomorrow, Jimmy tried to find those lurking within, watching him. He found nothing, however, not even a dickybird. Whoever they were had given him the slip. Following the pipe, Jimmy resumed his journey, concentrating on the job in hand…

  “This looks interesting,” he said, stopping at a huge piece of machinery making loud munching sounds. Looking up, Jimmy saw the glue-filled pipe attached to its top. “I see, I see.” Just then, distracting him from his thoughts, Jimmy
thought he saw someone lurking, moving secretively about. Calling to them, he said, “Who’s there?” As before, he received no reply. Thinking his imagination was getting the better of him, he decided to ignore it completely. Training his full attention on the matter in hand, he set about climbing the machine…

  Having climbed to the top of the machine, to where the thick copper pipe connected into it, Jimmy turned off first of three cut-off valves atop it. Laughing, he said, “This’ll give Mr Viscous something to think about, hah!”

  No sooner had he closed the first valve, Jimmy began turning the second. “This’ll really shake him up,” he chortled.

  Having closed the second valve, Jimmy turned his attention to the third and last one. “If the flow in this pipe is switched off,” he said, “they won’t be able to process anymore horses.” Scratching his head, thinking about it some more, he added, “Well, at least not for the moment. That should give us, Eric and me, more than enough time to save them.”

  The last valve, however, was an entirely different affair, for it was stuck fast. “Drats!” Jimmy hissed. “There’s always one!” He tried it again, he tried to hard to shut it off the