‘Kindest thing in the long run, Bruce,’ said Sheila, and they set off down the road after the rapidly disappearing ambulance.
It was even harder to drive a speeding ambulance in a pantomime wolf suit than it was to climb a tree in one, but Inspector Plonker and Sergeant Snoop managed it somehow.
‘I thought vets were supposed to be kind to animals,’ said Inspector Plonker. ‘Those two lunatics were planning to do us in!’
‘We’re not animals, sir,’ Sergeant Snoop reminded him, ‘We’re just disguised as one.’
‘Anyway,’ said Sergeant Snoop, ‘There’s that bus, right up ahead. Looks like it’s heading for the Town Hall.’
Sure enough, a short distance in front of them, the bus was slowing down.
‘Right, Snoop,’ said Inspector Plonker, switching on the ambulance’s siren, ‘The Wolf is in that bus. And this time he’s not going to get away.’
Meanwhile, in the police station canteen, the Chief of Police was having his tea break and watching television. He had managed to crash-land the helicopter in the station car park, where a team of mechanics was now working frantically to repair it.
The Chief had the remote control in his hand and was flicking impatiently from one channel to another when he found himself watching ‘Pet Patrol’. He watched for a moment in disbelief, then leaped to his feet and rushed out of the station, yelling into his walkie-talkie as he rushed towards the helicopter.
‘Calling all cars! Calling all cars!’ he bellowed. ‘Now hear this. A big green ambulance is driving down the high street towards the Town Hall. All units proceed to the area at once. The Wolf is in that ambulance. And this time he’s not going to get away.’
Ignoring the mechanics (who were trying to give him their bill) he bounded into the helicopter and started up the engine.
With a shrill, spluttering roar, the craft rose unsteadily into the air and flew off towards the Town Hall, leaving a trail of smoke and sparks behind it.
Chapter Seven
Another Cunning Plan
As the old ladies got off the bus and hurried into the Town Hall, the Wolf deliberately lagged behind.
‘Hurry up, Granny,’ said Little Red Riding Hood, tugging his paw. ‘All the best seats will be taken.’
‘Sorry, dear,’ wheezed the Wolf feebly, ‘Me arthritis is playing up, not to mention me lumbago, me rheumatism and me rabies.’
As the last old lady hobbled up the steps and vanished through the big double doors, the Wolf prepared to pounce. Nobody could stop him now!
Just then, with a blare of sirens and a screech of brakes, the Big Green Ambulance skidded to a halt in front of the Town Hall and out jumped Inspector Plonker and Sergeant Snoop. Their Wolf costume hung in tatters around them. The tail was frayed, one glass eye had fallen out and the head was turned around the wrong way. But despite Sergeant Snoop’s desperate efforts to open it, the zip was still stuck.
‘All right, Wolf,’ barked Inspector Plonker, ‘You’re under arrest.’
‘You’ll have to catch me first, copper,’ growled the Wolf, and tried to grab Little Red Riding Hood. But as soon as she heard his snarling voice she knew she had been tricked once again, and she kicked him smartly on the shins.
‘Where’s my Granny, you rotten Wolf?’ she cried. ‘I bet you’ve locked her in the wardrobe again.’
With a curse, the Wolf ripped off his disguise and bounded up the fire escape which led to the roof of the Town Hall.
Just then more sirens blared, more brakes screeched, and suddenly there were police cars everywhere, with policemen tumbling out of them.
One of them looked at Sergeant Snoop and Inspector Plonker standing in the ragged wolf costume, and gave a great wail of misery.
‘My costume,’ he cried. ‘Look what you’ve done to my beautiful costume!’
The other constables looked at him in amazement.
‘What’re you on about, Perkins?’ asked Constable Pratt.
‘The costume for the pantomime,’ sobbed Constable Perkins. ‘It took me a week to sew it, and look at it now. It’s ruined.’
‘Wait a minute, Perkins,’ said Constable Pratt. ‘Are you telling me that’s not the Big Bad Wolf?’
‘Of course it isn’t,’ replied Constable Perkins, sniffing and wiping his eyes. ‘It’s Inspector Plonker and Sergeant Snoop. They borrowed my costume this morning and promised to look after it. Now look at it! And the show opens tonight.’
‘Oh, stop blubbering, Perkins,’ snapped Inspector Plonker. ‘I told you before, the safety of the city is more important than show business. Now, somebody get a scissors and cut us out of this thing.’
‘You insensitive beast!’ cried poor constable Perkins and burst into tears. In the end he had to be led away and given a nice cup of tea to calm his nerves.
Constable Pratt’s radio crackled loudly:
‘Chief to Pratt, over,’ yelled a voice. ‘Have you caught the Wolf yet, over?’
‘Sorry, Chief,’ replied Pratt. ‘False alarm I’m afraid. It wasn’t the Wolf after all. It was Inspector Plonker and Sergeant Snoop in a wolf suit.’
‘Those blithering idiots,’ bellowed the Chief furiously. ‘Don’t let them get away. I’m coming down to give them a piece of my mind.’
As he landed the helicopter on the Town Hall roof, the Chief of Police was in an even nastier mood than usual. That idiot Plonker had made a right mess of things again, running around in fancy dress, wasting everybody’s time. The Chief would make him wish he’d never been born. Then, as he climbed out of the helicopter and hurried towards the fire escape that would bring him down to the street, the Chief stopped in amazement. For there, clambering onto the roof, were Plonker and Snoop. And they were still wearing that stupid wolf suit!
Of course, it was not Inspector Plonker and Sergeant Snoop who were climbing onto the roof. It was the Big Bad Wolf himself. However, the Chief of Police did not know this.
‘Plonker!’ he bellowed, rushing up to the Wolf and shaking his fist at him.
‘Who are you calling a plonker?’ growled the Wolf. But the Chief was too angry to listen to him.
‘Idiot! Dolt! Nincompoop!’ yelled the Chief, poking the wolf in the chest.
The wolf growled softly.
‘It’s no use pretending to growl,’ scolded the Chief of Police, ‘Just look at the state of you! Why, my grandmother looks more like a wolf than you do.’
The wolf snarled and showed his teeth.
‘Think it’s funny, do you, Plonker?’ bellowed the Chief, who mistook the Wolf’s bared teeth for a nervous smile. ‘Going around looking like a mangy old hearthrug! Disgraceful. Take that ridiculous costume off at once.’ And he reached out his hands and pulled the Wolf’s ears as hard as he could.
This was the last straw. It was bad enough being called names, compared to somebody’s grandmother and accused of being mangy, but the Wolf drew the line at having his ears pulled.
The Wolf pounced.
‘Assaulting a superior officer, eh, Plonker?’ yelled the Chief of Police. ‘I’ll have your badge for this!’
Grappling furiously, the Wolf and the Chief of Police fell to the ground and rolled towards the edge of the roof. For a moment they teetered on the brink, then tumbled into space. Still locked together, they dropped like a stone, bounced off the roof of the Big Green Ambulance and landed in a heap on the street, right at the feet of Inspector Plonker and Sergeant Snoop, who, with the help of Constable Perkins, had finally managed to get out of the wolf suit.
‘Well done, Chief,’ said Inspector Plonker. ‘Looks like you’ve captured the Wolfgran!’
‘I think they’re both unconscious, sir,’ said Sergeant Snoop.
‘Very well then,’ said the Inspector. ‘Get them both into the ambulance, men.’
‘Can I put the wolf suit in there too, sir?’ asked Constable Perkins. ‘I think I just might be able to patch it up in time for tonight’s performance.’
‘Oh, very well then, Perkin
s,’ said Inspector Plonker.
So the Wolf, the Chief of Police and the tattered wolf suit were placed in the back of the Big Green Ambulance. Bruce and Sheila arrived on the scene just then, and they were ordered to drive the ambulance back to the police station. Siren blaring, the Big Green Ambulance sped away, followed by a convoy of police cars, vans and motorcycles.
But as soon as the doors of the ambulance had slammed shut, the Wolf, who was only pretending to be unconscious, sat up and looked around him. He saw the Chief of Police lying motionless on a stretcher and, in the corner, he saw the crumpled remains of the wolf suit. He looked from one to the another and then grinned a fiendish grin.
He could feel a cunning plan coming on …
Chapter Eight
Mistaken Identity
The Big Green Ambulance sped into the police station car park and stopped outside the front door. Immediately it was surrounded by several nervous constables clutching their batons. Inspector Plonker drew his gun and nodded at Bruce and Sheila.
‘Open the doors,’ he ordered. They did so. Inside, the Chief of Police, his cap covering his face, still lay motionless on the stretcher. The Wolf was curled up in the corner.
Constables Pratt and Perkins jumped into the ambulance, picked up the stretcher and carried the Chief into the station. Then Inspector Plonker reached carefully inside, grabbed the Wolf by the tail and hauled him out. The Wolf fell with a thud onto the ground, then sat up and bellowed out a great roar of fury. Inspector Plonker leaped back in fright, then levelled his gun. But before he could shoot, Bruce popped a sack over the Wolf’s head, pulled it down to his feet, and knotted it securely. The Wolf thrashed around in the sack, giving muffled screams of rage.
‘There’s no need for that kind of language,’ said Inspector Plonker severely, but the Wolf just kept on roaring.
‘What’ll we do with him, sir?’ asked Sergeant Snoop.
‘I can chuck him in the canal for you if you’d like,’ suggested Bruce. ‘I’ll just bung a few rocks in that sack and he’ll sink like a stone.’
‘Kindest thing in the long run,’ said Sheila cheerfully.
‘I thought you vets were supposed to take care of animals,’ said Inspector Plonker.
‘All right then, mate,’ said Bruce, ‘we’ll shove him under a bus instead. That’ll take care of him all right.’
‘Oh, just go away, you sadists,’ said Inspector Plonker angrily.
‘Fair dinkum, mate,’ said Bruce as the two vets climbed into the ambulance and started the engine. ‘But just remember, sometimes you’ve got to be cruel to be kind.’
Inspector Plonker watched as the Big Green Ambulance sped away, then turned to Sergeant Snoop, shaking his head.
‘Right, Snoop,’ he said, ‘let’s get this prisoner into the cells.’
But just then the station door burst open and Constables Pratt and Perkins came rushing out.
‘Sir, sir,’ they cried. ‘The Chief just tried to swallow us, sir.’
‘He tried to what?’ barked Inspector Plonker.
‘Swallow us, sir,’ said Constable Pratt. ‘As soon as we got him inside he jumped off the stretcher and came after us. He had the biggest teeth I’ve ever seen.’
‘And his eyes, sir,’ said Constable Perkins, ‘They were all red and glowing.’
‘Er, excuse me, sir,’ said Sergeant Snoop, ‘but the wolf suit is gone.’
‘The what?’ snapped Inspector Plonker.
‘The wolf suit, sir,’ said Sergeant Snoop. ‘We left it in the back of the ambulance with the Wolf and the Chief, sir. It’s gone, sir.’
‘Wolf suit? Wolf suit?’ yelled Inspector Plonker. ‘What do I care about the …’
But suddenly he paused and his eyes grew wide. He looked from the station to the sack, then back again from the sack to the station.
‘Perkins, Pratt,’ he barked, drawing his gun again, ‘Where’s the Chief now?’
‘Dunno, sir,’ said Constable Pratt. ‘Once he started trying to eat us we didn’t hang about.’
At that moment an engine roared, a siren blared and a police motorcycle came speeding towards them. As they scrambled out of the way they caught a brief glimpse of the rider. He had big, furry ears, red, glowing eyes and a long, shaggy tail. And he was wearing the uniform of the Chief of Police. As the motorcycle sped off in the direction of the forest, Inspector Plonker turned and looked in horror at the struggling sack, from which muffled roars of anger could still be heard.
‘We’ve really done it this time, Snoop,’ he said.
‘You certainly have, sir,’ said Sergeant Snoop.
Chapter Nine
The Long Ears of the Law
It wasn’t hard to work out what had happened. Not once they opened the sack and found the Chief of Police inside, dressed in the pantomime wolf suit. While the Chief lay unconscious in the Big Green Ambulance, the Wolf had put on his uniform and dressed him in the costume. Then, after the two constables had carried him into the station, he quickly made good his escape.
The Chief blamed Inspector Plonker for the whole thing, of course. He was never completely convinced that it was the Wolf, and not Plonker and Snoop, who had fought with him on the roof and then dressed him up in a disguise that caused him to be tied up in a sack and almost dumped in the canal. He immediately banned all amateur theatricals in the station, much to Constable Perkins’s dismay.
However, he did find a use for some of the other pantomime costumes that had been made. He ordered Inspector Plonker and Sergeant Snoop to dress up as two of the Three Little Pigs and patrol the forest as bait, in the hope of fooling the Wolf into attacking them. Though he claimed that this was a ruse designed to capture the Wolf, Plonker and Snoop couldn’t help suspecting that he was hoping they would get swallowed.
They were in less danger than they feared, however, for the Wolf had left the forest for good. At about this time, strange rumours began to circulate in the city about a mysterious, hairy policeman who patrolled the streets on a motorbike. It was said that if he caught anybody breaking the law, instead of arresting them he simply ate them on the spot.
This was enough to put a stop to the crime wave – old ladies went back to meekly paying their bus fares and bringing back their library books on time. It also made the streets safer for everybody, as criminals were afraid to do anything illegal for fear of being caught by the terrifying policeman with red, glowing eyes, long, furry ears and the biggest, sharpest teeth you’ve ever seen!
About the Author
Finbar O’Connor is a graduate of Trinity College and King’s Inns, Dublin. Having spent years working as a librarian in his native Drumcondra, he is now a practising barrister. He is the author of Wolfgran, the prequel to Wolfgran Returns! He has also published songs, stories and poetry. He lives in Drumcondra with his wife and two daughters.
Martin Fagan is an illustrator and cartoonist.
ALSO BY FINBAR O’CONNOR
WOLFGRAN
Granny Riding Hood has sold her house to the three little pigs and moved into the Happy-ever-after Home for Retired Fairy-tale Characters, leaving the Big Bad Wolf all on his own. What’s a wolf to do? Go after her, of course!
Disguised as a little old lady, and swallowing everyone he meets, ‘Wolfgran’ gets closer and closer to Granny. But hot on his tail are Inspector Plonker, Sergeant Snoop and a very smart girl guide in a red hood.
Copyright
This eBook edition first published 2012
by The O’Brien Press Ltd,
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Website: www.obrien.ie
First published 2004
eBook ISBN: 978-1-84717-497-0
Text © copyright Finbar O’Connor
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