by Greg James
Blunderbuss sat down on a sofa opposite the President. ‘Good evening,’ he said in his deep rumbling voice.
‘Now, the reason the Prime Minister has dropped by,’ continued Knox, favouring him with a nod, ‘is to congratulate me. Isn’t that marvellous, friends? Because I have discovered a plot to overthrow me and stop me being your President.’
All around the country there was a horrified reaction. Get rid of President Knox? How could anybody be so monstrous? He was their friend!
‘Calm yourselves, calm yourselves,’ Knox went on, wafting a hand gently downwards. ‘I discovered this plot in time, and I’m very pleased to say that the freaks who planned it are now all behind bars. Only a few remain, and I am about to arrest them too. They should be joining us any … minute … now.’
At that moment, the door in the wall behind him opened and five people burst through. First was a boy with untidy, sandy-coloured hair. Beside him, a short, freckled girl accompanied by two tiny horses, who were rearing and whinnying furiously at the President. On the other side of him, a boy with an unusually large left ear, and a girl with long, dip-dyed hair. And at the back, another girl, this one wearing a bright yellow raincoat.
‘Ah, good evening, Super Zeroes,’ said Nicholas Knox. He’d wanted to deliver this line ever since he’d decided, years ago, to become a supervillain. ‘I’ve been expecting you.’
‘We’re here to stop your reign of lies, Knox,’ snarled Hilda. ‘You’ve been telling everyone that people with Capabilities are evil and … and sneaky. Well, you’re the evil sneaky one. And we’re here to show everyone the truth.’
‘You’ve brought a bomb with you, I understand,’ said Knox calmly.
Hilda was taken aback. ‘Well … yes. How did you know that? But it’s not a—’
‘SILENCE!’ roared Knox, rising to his feet. ‘I have just been telling my friends here –’ he indicated the camera behind him – ‘that there was a plot by you freaks to depose me. But I’m one step ahead of you. I’ve been one step ahead of you idiotic children from the very first day I saw you.’
As he spoke, Knox felt a strange sensation at the back of his head. It was a tiny, fizzing, itching feeling. He looked at the Super Zeroes ranged in front of him, resolute and determined. There was something about the boy that was bothering him, though. For a split second he couldn’t put his finger on it, then it hit him. These children didn’t seem afraid of him. In fact, the boy in front was even smiling slightly. And at that moment, Nicholas Knox identified the odd buzzing feeling at the back of his brain. It was doubt. Something he hadn’t experienced in years. Why wasn’t the boy afraid of him?
‘Yes, I’m ahead of you once again,’ he ploughed on. ‘You see, all this time you’ve been plotting your little attack on the Presidential Palace, all this time you’ve been building your bomb … one of you has been working for me!’
And Mary left the Super Zeroes and walked over to stand beside Nicholas Knox, pulling the Cy-bomb out of her pocket as she went. She handed him the black box and turned to face the rest of the Zeroes, grinning monstrously.
‘Yes, I’m sorry to say that your little plan has failed,’ Knox went on. ‘You see, this isn’t your friend Mary at all. This is my friend Kopy Kat. She’s just handed me your little bomb … so I can do this.’ He dropped the Cy-bomb to the floor, lifted his leg, and crushed it beneath the heel of his highly polished right shoe.
The box fizzed and sparked beneath his foot.
‘Oops,’ said Knox sarcastically. ‘Well, so much for your plan to destroy my mind control. Your rebellion is at an end!’ He was screaming in triumph now, his fists clenched in passion. ‘You are defeated! There is no one left to oppose me! I have won! At last, the final victory! I have won! WHY AREN’T YOU FRIGHTENED?’
This last sentence had been yelled directly into Murph’s face, which was still wearing what we can only describe as a small smirk.
‘Oh, nothing,’ said Murph, infuriating Knox even further.
‘I JUST REVEALED YOUR ENTIRE PLAN HAS FAILED!’ he yelled, flecks of spit landing on Murph’s face as he totally lost his cool for the first time perhaps ever. ‘YOU DIDN’T REALISE THAT I HAD A SPY WORKING FOR ME! YOU DON’T HAVE A BOMB! YOU ARE DEFEATED!’
‘Wow,’ said Murph Cooper quietly. ‘That’s impressive.’
‘What’s impressive?’ spat Nicholas Knox.
‘Every single thing you said during that outburst was completely wrong,’ said Murph calmly. ‘Is it Opposite Day here at Freakazoid Palace or something?’
‘What do you mean,’ asked Knox icily, ‘“wrong”?’
‘My plan hasn’t failed,’ answered Murph matter-of-factly, locking eyes with Kopy Kat, who was glowering at them viciously. ‘I did realise there was a spy in the Super Zeroes. I knew that wasn’t the real Mar y. That’s the real Mary, over there.’
On cue, everyone turned to look at the other side of the room. A second door had opened, and an identical girl in an identical yellow raincoat was standing there. Only, where the first wore an expression of fury, this one was smiling radiantly at Murph Cooper. And as she smiled, she pulled an identical black box out of her own raincoat pocket and waved it triumphantly in the air.
‘Ah, yes,’ Murph continued. ‘Two more things you got wrong, Knox. We DO have a bomb. And we are a long way from being defeated. So let’s go, you shiny-shoed, populus-deceiving, oily-haired, frog-faced maniac.’
And then everything went totally bats-breakfast crazy.
Don’t think about rabbits.
You Thought About Rabbits, Didn’t You?
Honestly. That was just getting really exciting, and you had to go and think about rabbits! After we’d warned you loads of times all the way through the story – when we get to the dramatic bit, DO NOT THINK ABOUT RABBITS!
And then what happens? Just when the Super Zeroes are having this really amazing confrontation with the ultimate supervillain, you have to go and spoil it all by thinking about little, fluffy rabbits, hop-hop-hopping about and, I don’t know, eating celery or something.
Well, isn’t that just great? We hope you’re happy, because we’re now going to get loads of letters from people going, ‘Why oh why oh why did you put a stupid rabbit story in this book, even after we told you we don’t like those bits?’
Let’s just get on with it, shall we? Sheesh, there’s always one reader that’s got to spoil it for everybody else …
The Tale of Squirrel Nut Case
Once upon a time – two weeks ago last Thursday it was, in fact – there lived a little bunny rabbit, and his name was Alan. He had fuzzy brown ears, a white cotton-bud tail and an impractical blue jacket. He also wore clogs, for no adequately explained reason.
One bright sunny Saturday in the middle of the month we would call July, but which rabbits for some reason call Steve, Alan Rabbit had lolloped to the shores of a local lake. There he was hoping to spend the day relaxing beside the tranquil waters looking at his book, which was entitled Carrots, Carrots, Carrots and consisted entirely of pictures of carrots. Alan could not read because he was, you may remember, a rabbit.
Just as Alan had settled down upon his beach towel, there came a scufflement from the undergrowth nearby, followed by a loud scraping. Alan looked about himself in consternation.
‘Good morrow to thee, kind flop-eared gentleperson!’ came a loud, grating voice.
Alan sat up on his towel. There, at the edge of the forest, was a squirrel dragging a large suitcase. The squirrel was wearing a cowboy hat, we’re not sure why.
‘I’m Squirrel Nut Case, thanking of thee, and this is my nut case,’ explained the squirrel in its annoying voice. ‘Would ye like to come over to Owl Island with me and look for some nuts to put in my case?’
‘Sure, why not?’ said Alan, who loved adventures. Besides which, he was already bored of his book even though he’d only been looking at it for three seconds. There’s a limit to how long you can look at pictures of carrots without getting bored, an
d that limit is about … two to three seconds.
‘I’ve built me a raft of twigs!’ said the squirrel, indicating a pile of sticks lashed together with vines on the beach nearby.
‘If you think I’m getting on that, you want your fuzzy head examining,’ said Alan Rabbit reasonably. ‘It looks like a complete death trap, and rabbits can’t swim.’
(Actually, some rabbits can swim, we just googled it. But Alan Rabbit could not, and your rabbit might not be able to either, so don’t go putting it in the bath and blaming it on us.)
‘Well, prithee, we could go in my speedboat instead, I suppose,’ suggested Squirrel Nut Case, pointing to a large, gleaming boat moored nearby.
‘Yes please, that would be much more satisfactory,’ said Alan Rabbit.
Alan Rabbit and his new friend Squirrel Nut Case sped across the lake towards Owl Island, stopping only briefly on the way for a spot of wakeboarding.
In a house on Owl Island lived a very bad-tempered owl called Old Mr Spangly Unicorn. His name didn’t particularly suit him because he was a cross old owl and not a spangly unicorn, but you can’t choose your name, not even if you’re an owl. Old Mr Spangly Unicorn had just been enjoying a nice refreshing nap when he was awoken by a loud rat-a-tat-tatting upon his door.
‘Gertcha!’ said Old Mr Spangly Unicorn gruffly, sticking his tufted head out of the window.
‘Good morrow to you, Old Mr Spangly Unicorn,’ said Squirrel Nut Case politely.
‘Might I be so bold as to ask whether I might possibly please gather ye nuts upon thine island, graciously please and thank you? For I wish to fill my nut case with nuts, yea and verily.’
‘Gertcha!’ replied Old Mr Spangly Unicorn crossly. He disliked being awoken, and he disliked Squirrel Nut Case even more because he was irritating and kept making up riddles that made no sense.
‘Thank ye, and kindly thou,’ replied Squirrel Nut Case. ‘In humble thanks, I shall present thee with a riddle, herewith.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Riddle me this, riddle me thus, how many blueberries grow on a bus?’ The owl slammed his window shut.
‘Riddle me, riddle me, rat-a-tat-tat,’ shouted Squirrel Nut Case at the closed window, ‘what is redder than cherries, yet smells like a bat?’
‘What is the answer to your riddle?’ asked Alan Rabbit curiously as they wandered off towards a nearby grove of nut bushes.
‘Riddles don’t have answers, you silly rabbit,’ laughed Squirrel Nut Case, opening his suitcase and beginning to fill it with nuts from the nearest bush. ‘Questions have answers. Riddles are to tantalise the brain, yea verily. They don’t have to make any sense.’
‘I’m fairly sure that’s not right …’ Alan began to say, but the squirrel was off again.
‘My first is in lemon, but not in meringue. My second in sturm, but not in drang …’ Alan decided he had had enough, and wandered away to the other side of the grove and sat down upon the lake shore.
A frog stood nearby on a lily pad, fishing.
‘I might have known it,’ said Alan Rabbit to himself resignedly.
‘Good morning!’ cried the frog, adjusting his galoshes. We’re not sure what galoshes are, but he was wearing some and he adjusted them at this point.
‘Catching anything?’ asked Alan, who had nice manners in spite of everything.
‘I shall catch a dish of minnows for my supper,’ replied the frog, smacking its lips.
‘I am to entertain my friend, Sir Isaac Newton.’
‘The seventeenth - century mathematician, astronomer and physicist?’ asked Alan excitedly.
‘No, don’t be ridiculous, I’m a frog,’ replied the frog. ‘Why on earth would I befriends with a seventeenth-century mathematician, astronomer and physicist?’
‘Fair enough,’ replied Alan.
‘If you answer my riddle, I’ll give you a groat!’ shouted Squirrel Nut Case from the other side of the nut bushes.
‘Groats have not been minted since 1856,’ retorted Alan over his shoulder. Just then, all his teeth fell out and he suddenly realised he was naked except for his clogs, and surrounded by other rabbits who were pointing and laughing at him.
At that point, Alan Rabbit woke up in his bed and realised it had all been a strange dream.
‘Is everything OK, Alan? You were talking in your sleep again,’ said his mother, Mrs Polyanna Rabbit, coming into the bedroom and opening the curtains.
‘I had another strange dream, Mother,’ moaned Alan. ‘It must have been the five pints of fondue I ate before bed.’
‘I’ve warned you young rabbits before,’ laughed Mrs Polyanna Rabbit, ‘stay out of that Swiss restaurant, no good can come of it. I shall sing you a song to calm you.’
‘Not the one about the baby otters,’ begged Alan Rabbit.
‘Hush, tush, and ha’penny farthing,’ said his mother, for no very good reason. ‘No, not the one about the baby otters.’
‘Oh, good.’
‘This one’s about elderly otters.’
‘Flipping heck.’
And then Mrs Polyanna Rabbit sang the following song about elderly otters, which you must make up a tune to and sing out loud, otherwise a huge otter will come and squat on top of you.
Old Mrs Polyanna Rabbit’s Elderly Otter Song
See, see, see, the elderly otters
Strolling on the shore.
See them nod their wise old heads
And remember days of yore.
See the lovely, elderly otters,
Drinking cups of tea.
They’re passing round a plate of biscuits
And one of them takes three.
See an elderly, tottery otter,
Wearing a suit and shirt,
Complaining about his pension,
And his lower back, which hurts.
Elderly otter, elderly otter,
Will you come out to play?
No, I can’t, says the elderly otter,
I’m ninety-four years old today.
Happy birthday, elderly otter.
We wish you many more.
Elderly otters, elderly otters,
Strolling on the shore.
‘Well, that was two minutes of my life I’m never going to get back,’ said Alan Rabbit when his mother’s song had finished.
‘And now I shall read you a story,’ declared Old Mrs Polyanna Rabbit. ‘It is called “The Tale of Squirrel Nut Case”. Once upon a time – two weeks ago last Thursday it was, in fact – there lived a little bunny rabbit, and his name was Alan …’
Alan rabbit began to scream.
Right.
Hope you’re happy with that. Now stop thinking about rabbits, and let’s get back to the story, shall we?
20
Right, Where Were We?
‘Ah, yes,’ Murph continued. ‘Two more things you got wrong, Knox. We DO have a bomb. And we are a long way from being defeated. So let’s go, you shiny-shoed, populus-deceiving, oily-haired, frog-faced maniac.’
Nicholas Knox looked at Murph for a long moment. His face was expressionless, but a slight flush crept up both cheeks and a vein on his forehead began pulsing. It looked as if he was only keeping his emotions in check with extreme difficulty.
‘What,’ he said, his lips writhing, ‘are you talking about?’
‘It’s quite simple,’ said Hilda. ‘We knew that wasn’t the real Mary. We’ve known since the first day.’
‘Remember at The School,’ said Murph to Kopy Kat, ‘when you lost your umbrella? And you said you’d just get another one?’
‘Big mistake,’ grinned Hilda. ‘Big mistake. Huge.’
The real Mary was now coming forward to stand with her friends. ‘Murph bought me that umbrella after our very first Hero mission,’ she told Kopy Kat. ‘I’d never lose it in a million years. But I don’t suppose you’d understand friendship, would you?’
‘Murph told us that very first night,’ said Billy. ‘We’ve been playing you all along!’
‘But …’ sputte
red the fake Mary, ‘I blamed Mr Flash. You thought he was the mole. You locked him up!’
‘I WOZ ACTIN’,’ roared a delighted voice. Mr Flash was standing in the doorway. ‘I GAVE THE PERFORMANCE OF ME LIFE!’ he exulted. ‘I pretended to get arrested, then me and Angel went and rescued Mary! Ha ha! I did it! I saved the day!’
Angel appeared behind him, beaming.
‘You did save the day, Mr Flash,’ Murph told him. ‘You’re a real Hero.’
‘I CHIPPIN’ WELL KNOW I AM, COOPER!’ chided the teacher. ‘Don’t get cocky!’
‘Mary!’ instructed Murph. ‘Do it!’
And Mary clicked the red button on the top of the Cy-bomb. There was a fizz of static, and a shower of sparks shot out of the TV camera. But the most striking effect was one that, for the moment, the Zeroes could not see. Because it was happening in the minds of people all over the country.
For months now, they had seen Nicholas Knox as their friend, their protector … Now, suddenly, the man in the sharp suit didn’t seem trustworthy or kindly. He didn’t seem like he had everyone’s best interests at heart. Suddenly he seemed oily, sneaky-looking … the sort of man who was only out for himself. Suddenly his sharp suit and shiny shoes didn’t look like the trappings of a man of authority and power … They looked like the fake, fool’s-gold accoutrements of a liar and a trickster.
‘What have you done, you little idiot?’ Knox snarled at Murph.
‘We just showed people the truth,’ replied Kid Normal. ‘They can see you for what you are, now, Knox. A man who lied to the whole country just because you were desperate for a bit of power. A man who told everyone that Heroes were some freakish organisation working to overthrow society, when in fact they were working to protect society all along. The only reason they did it in secret was because of people like you – people who can’t imagine power being used with kindness and gratitude … because you think everyone’s like you. That’s why you don’t trust anyone.’
