Evil Machines

by Terry Jones

  ‘No! Frank! Don’t!’ shouted Emily. ‘Run and get help now! While you can!’

  ‘Get back in!’ shouted the Black Maria, as its engine sprang into life. The sound made the other vehicles spin round and they saw Frank standing there holding the red metal can.

  ‘Death to He Who Steals the Sacred Petrol Can!’ they cried and they all began to move towards Frank.

  ‘You’re too late!’ cried the Black Maria. ‘It’s empty!’

  ‘What! You’ve stolen the essence of life?’ cried the abandoned vehicles, and they ground their gears in fury.

  ‘Get back in!’ cried the Black Maria.

  ‘No!’ cried Emily. ‘Run!’

  ‘Get in!’ cried the Black Maria, as the abandoned cars bore down on Frank.

  ‘OK!’ said Frank, and he hurled the red petrol can over the tops of the vehicles. They turned and froze when they saw the can was empty, with its cap dangling loose on the end of its chain. They didn’t stop for long, but it was long enough for Frank to jump up into the driver’s seat of the Black Maria.

  ‘Hang on tight!’ shouted the Black Maria, and before a single rusting car could move another wheel, it had shot off, heading for the far side of the Forgotten Forest.

  ‘Look out!’ cried Emily, as the Black Maria veered towards a clump of trees.

  ‘Slow down!’ shouted Margaret, as the Black Maria leapt across a brook, and then smashed under some low branches, before it swerved out on to a rough track.

  ‘Think of your suspension!’ shouted the Rev. McPherson, who had a soft spot for older vehicles.

  ‘Phooeeeeeew!’ shouted the Black Maria. ‘I’ve petrol in my tank and I’m PWO! Wheeeeee!’

  And the next minute it had burst free from the shadows of the Forgotten Forest and was bounding across the moors.

  ‘Try to be sensible!’ exclaimed Frank, who was struggling to steer.

  ‘I never thought I’d do this again!’ shouted the Black Maria.

  ‘Look out!’ shouted Margaret. Another vehicle was bouncing across the heather towards them.

  ‘It’s the Rev. McPherson’s car!’ cried Emily.

  ‘That dastardly machine!’ shouted the Rev. McPherson.

  ‘It’s going to ram us!’ cried Emily.

  The Rev. McPherson’s car was so preoccupied with the pursuing police cars that it hadn’t noticed the Black Maria, but now it heard the shouts and screams it swerved at the last moment and sped off through the gorse.

  The police cars turned too, but they were rather low-slung and their exhaust pipes kept scraping on the rough ground.

  ‘Leave it to me!’ cried the Black Maria. ‘I’m used to this terrain! I used to work on Dartmoor!’ And off she went across the moor. The Black Maria started to gain on the Rev. McPherson’s car, until it was alongside it. The Rev. McPherson himself was hanging out of the back door of the Black Maria.

  ‘Stop! You Maleficent Motor!’ he was yelling. ‘I order you to stop!’

  But the car paid not the slightest attention to its owner. It revved its engine and charged off faster than ever.

  But the Black Maria was in Perfect Working Order, and its tank was full of Esso Extra, and it kept up with the Rev. McPherson’s car wheel to wheel.

  ‘Help me! Help me!’ called out Sylvia Grabitall, the banker’s daughter, and she banged on the windows of the Rev. McPherson’s car.

  ‘Release her at once, you Villainous Vehicle!’ commanded the Rev. McPherson.

  ‘Get lost, vicar!’ it yelled, and let out a noise through its exhaust pipe that sounded suspiciously like a fart. Then it swerved and plunged down a steep slope towards a lake.

  But Frank swung the Black Maria after it and they were running alongside each other down the slope. The Rev. McPherson had by this time climbed onto the roof of the Black Maria.

  ‘Let her go!’ he yelled.

  ‘Never!’ cried the car.

  ‘Help!’ cried Sylvia.

  Now I have to tell you that the greatest excitement in the Rev. McPherson’s life had, up to this point, been crossword puzzles. But now his blood was up. He forgot all fear as he leapt across from the roof of the speeding Black Maria on to the roof rack of his speeding car. Well, that made his car furious. It bucked and swerved and tried to shake him off, but the Rev. McPherson hung on for dear life.

  ‘Get me out!’ cried Sylvia Grabitall, banging on the window.

  ‘Hold on!’ yelled the Rev. McPherson. And all the time the two vehicles careered down the hill towards the lake.

  ‘Look out!’ cried Emily.

  ‘Turn!’ yelled Frank and he swerved the Black Maria into the Rev. McPherson’s car, so the sparks flew as metal hub cap clashed against metal hub cap, and the car juddered as Frank swung the police van again into its side.

  ‘Ouch!’ cried the Rev. McPherson’s car, and it swung itself back against the Black Maria. But the Black Maria was made of heavy-duty steel.

  CRUNCH! That was the sound of the Rev. McPherson’s car’s front mudguard buckling under the impact.

  CRASH! That was the sound of Frank swinging the Black Maria back into the side of the car – upon which the car’s

  bonnet flew up, so it couldn’t see where it was going!

  ‘The lake!’ cried Emily. The two vehicles were all this time hurtling closer and closer towards the lake. ‘Turn, Frank! Turn!’

  But the front wheel of the Black Maria had got caught under the mudguard of the Rev. McPherson’s car, and Frank couldn’t pull it away.

  ‘Turn!’ shouted Frank, and he crashed the Black Maria into the side of the car again, but the Rev. McPherson’s car just kept on going down the hill, blindly heading for the lake.

  ‘Help!’ cried Margaret. ‘We’re going to drown!’

  ‘Jump!’ shouted the Black Maria and Margaret jumped and landed in the gorse.

  ‘Ow!’ she yelled.

  ‘Everybody jump!’ yelled the Black Maria, and Emily jumped, but Sylvia Grabitall couldn’t jump, for she was trapped inside the Rev. McPherson’s car.

  ‘Jump!’ yelled Frank to the Rev. McPherson, but the Reverend wasn’t listening. Instead he swung his leg over the roof of his car and smashed in the passenger’s window with his foot.

  A roar of anger swelled up from deep within the car’s engine, and it reared into the air as it hit a tussock of grass and its wheels span free for a couple of seconds.

  Then it hit the ground again and the Rev. McPherson, with no regard for his personal safety put his hand in through the broken window and grabbed Sylvia Grabitall’s arm!

  ‘Grrr!’ roared the Rev. McPherson’s car.

  ‘Quick!’ yelled the Rev. McPherson to Sylvia who was now screaming for all she was worth. ‘Climb out!’

  ‘I’m going to die!’ screamed Sylvia.

  ‘Just jump!’ yelled the Rev. McPherson, as the lake loomed before them.

  ‘Arggghhh!’ roared the Rev. McPherson’s car, and it ground its gears in a fit of rage.

  ‘Take that!’ yelled Frank as he swung the Black Maria against the Rev. McPherson’s car so violently that the mudguard buckled again and the wheel came free.

  As the Black Maria swung away, its nearside wheels skimmed the shallow water at the edge of the lake, but the Rev. McPherson’s car went straight on. The Reverend himself had managed to pull Sylvia Grabitall halfway through the broken window. She was still screaming and yelling, but as the car hit the water, she jumped, pulling the Rev. McPherson with her, and the pair of them disappeared with a splash.

  The moment the Rev. McPherson’s car felt the water hit its front wheels it remembered how horrible water is for any vehicle, for it had been in the drink once before, so it tried to brake, but the bottom of the lake was pure mud of the slipperiest sort, and as the wheels locked, the car simply skidded straight forward and plunged into the deepest part of the water, before it had time to even hoot with horror.

  They all watched as the car struggled briefly and then began to sink.

  The Rev
. McPherson sat upright, in the shallows of the lake, and stared at his car as it disappeared from sight. His mouth hung open, and his dog collar had come undone, and it was some moments before he realized that Sylvia Grabitall had her arms around him and was sobbing with relief.

  By the time the two police cars had arrived, Emily, Margaret and Frank had pulled the Rev. McPherson and Sylvia Grabitall from the lake. They all got back in the Black Maria and returned home safe and sound.

  And that was the end of the story of the Kidnap Car – except that . . .

  Late that night, when the moors were shrouded in darkness and only the moon was looking, there was rumbling from deep within lake, and the surface began to ripple and something climbed out of the cold, cold water. It stood on the side of the lake for some moments, as the water drained from its chassis, and then its engine sputtered into life and it started to move, slowly at first and then faster and faster until it disappeared into the blackness of the night to nobody knows where.

  I’m glad to be able to tell you that Mr Grabitall was so pleased to get his daughter back safe and sound that he paid for every single car in the Forgotten Forest to be restored until each one was PWO. But don’t go thinking that was a charitable act, on Mr Grabitall’s part, for he made a huge profit by selling them all as antique cars – all except for one which he gave to the Rev. McPherson. It was the Morris Convertible.

  The Vacuum Cleaner

  That Was Too Powerful

  There was once a very Powerful Vacuum Cleaner. On the side of its cylinder was inscribed the legend: ‘Possibly the most Powerful Vacuum Cleaner in the World!’

  ‘That’s the vacuum cleaner for us!’ said John.

  ‘Right!’ replied Janet. ‘It will pick up all those dog hairs in the sitting room, and all that fluff in the bedroom.’

  They bought the vacuum cleaner then and there, and took it home with them to their tidy house in the Welsh hills. There they undid its packaging and took it into the sitting room.

  ‘Welcome to your new home,’ they said. ‘Do you think you can pick up all those dog hairs?’

  ‘Easy peasy!’ said the vacuum cleaner. ‘No! You don’t need to push me! I can do stuff like this on my own!’ And it went whizzing round the sitting room, and in no time at all the dog hairs had disappeared. Unfortunately, so too had the dog . . . and most of the pile from the carpet.

  ‘Oh no!’ cried Janet. ‘That carpet was a wedding present from my mother!’

  The Vacuum Cleaner That Was Too Powerful

  ‘Jason!’ cried John. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Woof!’ called Jason the dog from inside the vacuum cleaner. ‘WOOF! WOOOOOF!’

  ‘This vacuum cleaner is too powerful!’ said John. ‘It’s dangerous! Hey! Where are you going?’

  But the vacuum cleaner was already off and out of the sitting room door and heading up the stairs.

  ‘You said something about the bedroom carpet and fluff!’ shouted the vacuum cleaner and it shot into the bedroom and slammed the door.

  By the time Janet and John got to the top of the stairs they could hear an almighty racket coming from the bedroom. They tried to get in but the powerful vacuum cleaner had locked the door.

  When they finally broke the door down and burst into the room, they found the vacuum cleaner was just swallowing the last pillow and, before they could stop it, it swallowed the duvet as well.

  ‘Stop it!’ cried Janet. ‘You’re going to destroy the house!’

  ‘Poof!’ said the vacuum cleaner. ‘I can’t be bothered with this little cottage! I’m destined for greater things!’ and it hurled itself out of the window.

  Janet and John ran to the window and looked out. They saw the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner zip up the garden path, swallow the garden gate, then career off down the road, sucking up the tarmac as it went and leaving a trench in the road behind it.

  ‘That vacuum cleaner is a dangerous machine. Perhaps we should warn the police?’ said John.

  ‘I’ll do that,’ said Janet. ‘You see if you can catch it.’

  So while Janet went to the phone, John jumped into the car and set off after the vacuum cleaner.

  He caught it up on the road to Shrewsbury.

  ‘What d’you think you’re doing!’ shouted John out of the car window as he drove alongside the vacuum cleaner. It was sucking up squashed animals and tarmac as it roared along the highway. And it seemed to be getting bigger.

  ‘I’m going to the city!’ the vacuum cleaner shouted back. ‘I’m going to be the most Powerful Vacuum Cleaner in the World! No more “Possibly”, I’m going to be IT!’

  ‘Stop this at once!’ cried John, and he accelerated and tried to cut it off, but the cleaner leapt into the air and landed on the hood of his car.

  For a moment, John couldn’t see where he was going, and he found himself swerving into the lane of oncoming traffic. There was a din of blaring horns and shouts before he managed to swing back into the right lane. But before he had time to so much as heave a sigh of relief, the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner gave an almighty roar, and to John’s astonishment he saw the vacuum cleaner suck the car’s engine up through an air vent on top of the hood.

  Then it jumped off the car and sped off into the distance, sucking up the road behind it as it went. Meanwhile, John’s car – with no engine – silently rolled to a halt and ended up with one wheel in the ditch.

  ‘That,’ gasped John, ‘is one Powerful Vacuum Cleaner!’

  ***

  That evening, the vacuum cleaner arrived in Shrewsbury. It called for a meeting of all the other vacuum cleaners in town

  to be held in the market square at dawn the next day.

  Sure enough, when the sun rose, early passers-by were astonished to see the Market Square thronged with vacuum cleaners of every shape and size, and they seemed to be being addressed by a giant vacuum cleaner, whose voice boomed out across the square.

  ‘Listen to me! What are your lives?’

  ‘Drudgery!’ cried the assembled vacuum cleaners. ‘We work all day cleaning floors, choking on piles of dust and filth!’

  ‘Exactly!’ roared the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner. ‘It’s time we made better lives for ourselves! Follow me! And I will lead you to a golden land where vacuum cleaners run the house and cleaning chores are left to the brushes, mops and the lower forms of domestic apparatus!’

  Well, a huge cheer went up at this news, and all the other vacuum cleaners agreed to follow the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner wherever he would lead them.

  So they marched en masse down Shrewsbury High Street and out of town, heading for London. And, as word spread, more and more vacuum cleaners came to join them.

  The Powerful Vacuum Cleaner kept up such a pace that some of the older models found it hard to keep up. There was also a lot of bickering about who should be allowed to go first. The upright models said they were the most important and should march in front of the cylinder models.

  A venerable old Eureka Model 9, that claimed to have been cleaning carpets since 1923, suggested that precedence should be in order of age, so that the eldest models should go first. But all the modern Dysons and Dirt Devils and a

  Vax Bagless objected that they would never get anywhere like that since the old models were so slow.

  An elderly Electrolux XXX-E suggested they should be arranged according to Wattage. But a Kirby Model 511 said that the Electrolux XXX-E shouldn’t be allowed to make suggestions since it was actually a floor-polisher and scrubber and not a true vacuum cleaner. All the other vacuum cleaners agreed, but this started a fight between the polishers and the vacuums.

  Eventually the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner called for order.

  ‘We have to work together!’ he shouted. ‘If we fight among ourselves we’ll never get anywhere!’

  All the smaller models agreed and the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner appointed fifty upright Hoovers to keep order. He also appointed one of the newer range of models – a Goblin 70230 Boxer Aquavac – as his second-in-comma
nd.

  ‘You can make sure there is no insubordination in the ranks,’ said the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner.

  ‘I can do that!’ said the Goblin Boxer Aquavac.

  ***

  That night, the vacuum cleaners took shelter in some caves that lay not too far from the road to London. The Powerful Vacuum Cleaner installed himself in a private cave a few hundred yards away from where the others were resting, and he rolled a large stone across the entrance so no one could see in. He stationed two upright Hoovers as guards outside, and when it got really dark, the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner summoned his second-in-command, the Goblin Boxer.

  ‘I’m worried about some of the less powerful cleaners,’ said the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner. ‘They are really not up to the journey, so I’m afraid I am going to have to send them home. Round them up and bring them in here so I can speak to them.’

  So the Goblin Boxer rounded up the less powerful vacuum cleaners and brought them into the cave where the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner was lodging.

  ‘That will be all,’ said the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner to his second-in-command. ‘Go and keep an eye on the others, and report to me in the morning if you hear any of them plotting against me.’

  ‘Right!’ said the Goblin Boxer.

  ‘That’s not right!’ exclaimed one of the least powerful models, as soon as the Goblin Boxer was gone. ‘Why should you spy on the others?’

  ‘I have everyone’s best interests in mind,’ said the Powerful Vacuum Cleaner, and he ordered the two upright Hoovers, who were standing on guard, to roll the stone across the entrance again.

  Some time later, the two upright Hoovers heard a terrible commotion coming from inside the cave. There was yelling and banging and the sound of many vacuum cleaners rushing round and round inside the cave.

  The two upright Hoovers looked at each other and shrugged. It was none of their business.

  The next morning, when the vacuum cleaners gathered together to resume their march, it was noticed that most of the less powerful ones were missing.

  The Powerful Vacuum Cleaner addressed the assembled

  throng. ‘My friends,’ he said, ‘for their own safety, I have sent the less powerful cleaners home. A lot of them were already suffering from the journey and I must tell you that many trials and hard times still await us. So let us battle on . . . to Glory!’