“I know,” said Wilf. “Nobody has ever done such a thing before and—”
“I’ll use the snakes!” said Alan.
“No, no, no, no!” said Wilf.
“Yes yes yes yes!” said Alan. “It’s perfect. A BOUNCY EXPLODEY SNAKE BOMB! That really is extremely evil!”
“But some of the snakes are very ill!” said Wilf.
“Even better! A BOUNCY EXPLODEY SICK SNAKE BOMB! This is my most evil plan yet! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
“I don’t get it,” said Kevin.
“For the millionth time, that is an evil laugh, not a joke, you stupid dog.”
“I’m just going back under here,” said Kevin quietly, and he scrunched himself very thinly so that he could fit underneath the bed again.
“Please don’t use the snakes for your BOUNCY EXPLODEY BOMB!” pleaded Wilf.
“Yes. I am going to. And then everyone in Africa will be dead. Deadity deadity dead dead dead. And once they are deadity deadity dead, I will destroy the rest of the world and then everyone will be deadity deadity dead dead deadingtons. And YOU can’t stop me!” said Alan. “Unless you get to the Zambezi River by nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” he added.
Wilf was pacing. His head felt all whizzy and his hair felt all hot and he felt sick, but just in his cheeks. He didn’t want Alan to explode Abi’s sick snakes. And he didn’t want him to kill everyone in Africa and then everyone in the world. He wished he could just hide under the bed like Kevin, but he couldn’t. He had to do something. So he had a great big old worry and then a great big old think and then he thought so hard that his brain almost fainted. And then he had an idea.
He wanted to rescue the snakes—but he was still a bit scared of them. Perhaps he could be a snake charmer like Abi’s grandfather? He decided he would take his recorder. Wilf only knew how to play one tune (“Baa, Baa, Black Sheep”), so he hoped the snakes would find it charming.
He also decided to take a barrel to bring the snakes back in. And, finally, he packed a large Tupperware box to put over his head, in case a snake tried to spit poison into his eyes, which is the kind of thing snakes do. Although Abi said they only did that if you annoyed them.1
Wilf phoned Abi and told her to meet him in the hotel lobby at eight thirty the next morning.2
Then Wilf and Dot went to bed.
But Wilf could not sleep AT ALL. He was so worried. After hours and hours of tossing and turning, he went and got his “HOW TO STOP WORRYING” leaflet. NUMBER SIX said:
6) It can help to listen to a relaxation track.
Wilf had just the thing. He had downloaded it onto his mom’s iPod. He put on some headphones and listened.
A woman with a swoopy sloopy voice said, “Close your eyes and imagine you are somewhere very peaceful, for example, a forest.”
Urgh, thought Wilf. I hate forests. They’re dark and spooky and wolves live in them.
“Listen to the sounds of the forest,” said the sloopy woman. “Your feet crunching twigs underfoot, an owl hooting, and what’s that rustling sound?”
Aaaargh! thought Wilf. It’s a wolf lolloping toward me, with its mouth open and its teeth all shiny and sharp!
“It’s a gentle breeze,” said the sloopy woman. “And now you can hear another sound . . .”
Aaaaargh! thought Wilf. It’s the wolf snarling and growling and slobbering as it gets closer and closer.
“It’s the sound of water,” said the sloopy woman.
The wolf having a wee? wondered Wilf.
“A babbling brook,” said the sloopy woman. “And what’s that next to the babbling brook?”
Aaaargh! It’s another wolf! thought Wilf. I’m surrounded by them! They’re all going to eat me! Aaaaargh!
Wilf threw the headphones across the room. This relaxation track wasn’t relaxing at all. He didn’t want to stay here imagining being eaten by wolves—he’d rather go and rescue the snakes.
He got out of bed, picked up a sleeping Dot, and set off to wait for Abi.
1 That’s still no excuse. Why can’t they just write a letter of complaint?
2 Because they don’t have thumbs. The snakes, I mean. Not Wilf and Abi. That’s why they can’t write letters of complaint.
When Abi arrived, Wilf told her about Alan’s evil plans.
“You see!” cried Abi. “Humans are awful! I hate them all!”
“I know,” said Wilf. “I’m sorry.”
“But together we can stop him,” said Abi. “It will be a great adventure!”
Wilf wished he felt as confident.
Wilf and Abi crept silently through the jungle. Behind them Dot crawled as quietly as she could, while singing “If You’re Happy and You Know It” at the top of her voice—because that was her favorite song.
They reached the edge of the Zambezi River. Alan and Kevin were already there. They were loading the BOUNCY EXPLODEY SICK SNAKE BOMB onto a boat. Abi’s sick snakes were already inside it.
“My snakes!” cried Abi. “We must help them! Quick!”
Wilf and Abi and Dot ran toward the boat—not easy when you’re carrying a barrel and a recorder and some Tupperware. But just as they got within a few meters, the jungle floor gave way beneath them. The wind whistled in their ears, everything went dark . . .
. . . and they felt themselves falling down into a deep dark pit with a bump.
They lay at the bottom, winded and bruised, staring up through the leaves. A moment later, Alan appeared over the edge of the hole.
“Ha ha! I tricked you! I lay a trap and you fell for it—and into it! And now you can’t stop me and I shall take my BOUNCY EXPLODEY SNAKE BOMB to the top of Victoria Falls—the largest waterfall in the ENTIRE world—and it shall fall and bounce around the whole of Zambia and the whole of Africa, destroying everything in its path! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
“Ha ha,” said Kevin. “I totally get it. Ha ha. That’s funny because . . . Well, I’m not exactly sure why it’s funny, but it’s very funny.”
“Shut up, Kevin,” said Alan. And with that, they were gone.
Oh no! Wilf and Dot and Abi were trapped in a pit! What were they going to do?
“What are we going to do?” said Wilf.1
“Rot are re gong doo?” said Dot.
“What are we going to do do do do do do do do do do?” said Abi, because the barrel had fallen on top of her and there was an echo.
Wilf lifted the barrel off Abi.
“Maybe I can climb out? I’m a really good climber,” she said.
Abi tried scrambling up the walls, but the pit was too deep and the walls were too steep.
Then she tried standing on the barrel—but the pit was still too deep and the walls were still too steep.
“This is impossible!” said Abi. “If I can’t climb out of here then none of us can.”
“Well, there is someone who’s a better climber than you,” said Wilf.
“Who?” said Abi.
“Stuart,” said Wilf, fishing his woodlouse out of his pocket.
“But even if Stuart gets out, how will it help us?” asked Abi.2
“Maybe he could go and get the dung beetles.3 You said they were the strongest insects in the world.”
“Yes!” said Abi. “They could carry us out! Brilliant!”4
“Stuart?” said Wilf.
Stuart scrunched up tightly into a ball.
“Stuart? I need you to do something for me.”
Stuart scrunched tighter.
“I know you’re scared of the big insects, but I need you to be brave and go and find the dung beetles.”
Stuart scrunched even tighter still.
“Tell the dung beetles that the Dung God is in trouble and needs their help,” added Wilf.
Stuart didn’t move.
“Stuart, I know you’re scared—and I know how that feels, I really do. Let’s look at my ‘HOW TO STOP WORRYING’ leaflet. Look, NUMBER SEVEN says:
7) Laughter is a good remedy. Try distracting yourself by telli
ng yourself a favorite joke.”
Stuart didn’t move.
“Please, Stuart. Do it for me?”
Stuart slowly uncurled. He gave Wilf a kiss, saluted with seven of his wobbly wobbly legs, and walked off bravely into the jungle.
1 I just said that.
2 Hmm. Good point. Wilf really hadn’t thought this through.
3 How on earth will that help? This is a rubbish plan.
4 I take it back. This is actually quite a good plan.
I walk into the jungle. I am going to have to be brave. Very brave. Very very very bra—Aaaaaaaaaaargh! What’s that? Oh no oh no oh no. Heeeeeeelp meeeeeeeeeee!
Oh, it’s OK, it’s just a twig. Keep going. Keep going. Don’t panic. Stay calm. Stay very ca—Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! Noooooooooo! What’s that? It’s huge! It’s terrifying! It’s . . . just another twig.
Phew. OK. Carry on. You’re doing this for Wilf.
Because Wilf is your best friend and you love W—Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! What’s that? It’s right in front of me! It’s moving! I’m going to dieeeeeeee . . . Oh. Another twig. That’s a relief. Gosh. There are a lot of twigs in the jungle. Hang on a minute. That twig is giving me a funny look. That twig is following me! That twig isn’t a twig, it’s a stick insect! Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh! Help meeeeeeeeeeeeee! It’s a ginormous stick insect! It’s going to punch me! It’s at least five centimeters tall! I must run as fast as I can. What was it Wilf said to do? Tell myself jokes. OK, think, Stuart, think! What’s a funny joke? Oh, I know . . .
What do you call a snail on a ship?
A snailor!
Oh, the twig is laughing. The twig likes that joke. It is a good joke. The twig is waving good-bye now.
Wow, that was close. OK. I’ve got to find the dung beetles. Where are the dung beetles? If I were a dung beetle, where would I be? I think the answer is to follow my nose. Ha ha. That’s a funny joke too.
Right, it can’t be much farther now. I must be getting nearer—Aaaaaaaaaarghhhhhhhh! Noooooooooooooo! Helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme! It’s massive and it’s green and . . . Oh, it’s a leaf. That’s a relief. Or a re-leaf. Ha ha. That’s another funny joke.
So, on we go. I must have walked meters and meters by now. This jungle is very big. And very scary. It’s lucky I’m so bra—Aaaaaaaaaaargh! It’s huge and it’s round and it’s right above me and it’s coming toward me and—Oh, it’s another leaf. Gosh. There are a lot of leaves in the jungle.
Oh yuck. I just stepped in some dung with thirteen of my fourteen feet. Urgh.
I’ll have to wipe them on some leaves. Shouldn’t have any trouble finding one of those. Wait a minute! Aaaaaaaaargh! What’s that? There’s hundreds of them! There’s thousands of them. They’re humongous. They’re coming for me and they’re . . . oh, just more leaves. Phew. But wait, there’s something underneath the leaves. Aaaaaaaaargh! Heeeeeeeeelp meeeeeeeeeee! A gazillion army ants. Quick! Hide! Look busy! Scrunch up! No, tell a joke. Ummmmm.
What do you call a fly without wings?
A walk.
Oh, the ants are laughing. They think that’s a very funny joke. It is a very funny joke.1
“Hattention! Left turn! Company, halt!” said the sergeant ant. Serge-ANT. Another funny joke.2
The ants all turn and stamp and halt. It’s very impressive.
“’Ello, ’ello, ’ello. What ’ave we ’ere? A hinsect from hanother land,” says the Serge-ANT. He puts Hs where they aren’t needed and leaves out ones that should be there.
“I’m Stuart,” I say. “And I’m trying to find the dung beetles.”
“Ho, you are, are you? ’Ave you hany hidea ’ow dangerous this jungle his?” says the Serge-ANT.
“Yes, I know,” I say. “There are leaves and twigs and all sorts. But I have to do it because my best friends need rescuing.”
“Hin that case, we shall hescort you safely to your destination,” says the Serge-ANT.
“Oh, thank you so much!” I say.
“Company, right turn!” he yells. “Company, march. Left right, left right, left right . . .”
And the whole ant army leads me to the dung beetles, marching loudly through the jungle. It’s very exciting. And I don’t feel scared at all when I see a leaf or a twig.
When we get there, the ants all salute me and then march off back to their camp.
The dung beetles are massive. And I mean MASSIVE. The size of a fifty-pence piece! I am very scared, but, luckily, I have saved my best joke for last.
What do you do with a sick wasp?
Take it to the waspital!
Ha ha. That’s so funny!3
The dung beetles really laugh. Then I tell them about the Dung God being in danger and they are very upset. They tell me to scrunch up in a ball and they roll me all the way back to Wilf and Dot and Abi at top speed!
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
1 I can’t take much more of this.
2 Right, that’s it. I’m going to write a letter of complaint about these jokes. Stuart’s lucky I’m not a snake, otherwise I’d just spit poison in his eye.
3 That is the last time I let someone else write a chapter of this book.
“Oh gosh. I hope Stuart’s all right,” said Wilf fretfully. “He’s been gone ages and—”
At that moment, a squillion gazillion dung beetles peered over the top of the pit.
“You did it!” cried Wilf. “Stuart, you’re a hero!”
Stuart leapt happily and safely back into Wilf’s pocket. Then the dung beetles climbed down into the pit, hoisted Wilf, Abi, and the Dung God onto their shoulders (plus the barrel and the recorder and the Tupperware) and carried them out of the pit to safety.
“Wheeeeeeeeeeee!” said Abi. “This is such fun! This is the best adventure ever!”
The dung beetles gently rested the three friends on the ground.
“Thank you so much,” said Wilf.
“Look!” said Abi. “Over there! It’s Alan with my snakes!”
On the other side of the river, Alan and Kevin were now getting out of the boat with the BOUNCY EXPLODEY BOMB and Abi’s snakes.
“How are we ever going to get across?” asked Wilf.
“I’m a brilliant swimmer,” said Abi.
“But Dot isn’t,” said Wilf. “And anyway, won’t it be full of crocodiles?”
“True,” said Abi. “But we have to do something.”
“The barrel!” said Wilf. “We can use the barrel as a boat. And if we tie my recorder to the Tupperware, we can use that as a paddle.”
“Brilliant!” said Abi. They unraveled one of the snake sleeping bags Wilf was carrying and used it to tie the recorder to the Tupperware. Then they all scrambled into the barrel and started paddling furiously to the other side of the river.
I expect you’re wanting to know what the river was like. Well, it was wet.
“This river is so deep!” said Abi.1
“Yes, and the water is so dark,” said Wilf.2
“And the current is so strong!” said Abi.3
“I know! I’m paddling as hard as I can and we’re moving in the opposite direction.”
“The Zambezi River moves through the land like a snake in the grass,”4 said Abi thoughtfully.
Finally, they reached the other side, and as they scrambled out of the barrel, they saw Alan and Kevin running through the trees toward a clearing. There was a big sign nearby saying BALLOON SAFARI. Wilf and Abi and Dot got there just in time to see Alan and Kevin climbing into an enormous hot air balloon with the Bouncy Explodey Bomb and the snakes.
“They’re going to Victoria Falls,” said Wilf. “We have to stop them!”
They rushed toward another hot air balloon and clambered in.
“Follow that balloon!” said Wilf urgently. And the balloon began to float slowly and gently up into the sky.
Wilf could see Alan’s balloon in the distance.
“Quickly! We’ve got to catch him!” cried Wilf.
Floaty floaty float, went Alan’s balloon.<
br />
Drifty drifty drift, went Wilf’s balloon behind.
“He’s getting away!” shouted Wilf.
Floaty floaty drift, went Alan’s balloon.
Drifty drifty float, went Wilf’s balloon.
“Hurry! Before it’s too late!” yelled Wilf.
Floaty drifty float, went Alan’s balloon.
Drifty floaty drift, went Wilf’s balloon.
It was really rather exciting.
1 That too.
2 And that.
3 Also that.
4 Drat. I wish I’d thought of that.
“I think we might be getting ever so slightly closer!” cried Wilf.1
Floaty floaty float, went Alan’s balloon.
Drifty drifty drift, went Wilf’s balloon behind.
“Yes, we’re definitely a teeny tiny bit nearer than we were before!” shouted Wilf.2
Floaty floaty drift, went Alan’s balloon.
Drifty drifty float, went Wilf’s balloon.
“Actually, on second thought, I think we might be a little bit farther away than before.”
Floaty drifty float, went Alan’s balloon.
Drifty floaty drift, went Wilf’s balloon.
“Oh dear. Now we’re never going to catch him,” said Wilf. “This is hopeless! If only we had Alan’s POOBUM—we could talk to the animals and try to get them to help.”
“You don’t need a POOBUM to communicate with animals,” said Abi. “I do it all the time. You do it all the time.”
“Really?” said Wilf.
“And what’s even better is that animals are brilliant at understanding things—even when we’re not good at expressing ourselves,” said Abi.
“What do you mean?” asked Wilf.
Before Abi could answer, the sky above them suddenly grew dark. But not a normal nighty sort of dark—a big swooping circling dark. Wilf and Dot and Abi looked up into the sky and saw hundreds and hundreds of birds swooping and circling and rising and falling and swirling and whirling toward Alan’s balloon.
Wilf the Mighty Worrier is King of the Jungle Page 5
