by Steve Cole
With a noise like the biggest balloon in the universe deflating, Plog’s bottom banks burst at last. The phenomenal fart exploded like a ton of dynamite right inside Klukk’s beak! The glass Plog had already cracked now shattered in the bum-blast. The smell was enough to make a cast-iron orang-utan with no nose self-destruct in a moment . . .
And just enough to make a giant chicken-shaped monster collapse!
“Too toxic . . . buk-buk-blacking out . . .” As Klukk keeled over, his head smashed down on top of the central tower, crushing a line of fans as he fell.
“Plog!” yelled Zill. She, Furp and Danjo rushed forward to rescue their leader from the evil lord’s beak. Danjo forced his pincers inside and strained to separate the giant jaws until – ker-KLUNK! – the bottom of the beak broke off with a clatter and Plog rolled clear.
“This beak is solid brass!” Furp boggled. “The feathers are made of metal and rubber. Klukk’s giant body is only a costume. He’s a phony!”
“But what about Plog?” Zill asked anxiously. “Are you all right, Fur-boy?”
“I think so.” Plog patted his tum. “My indigestion has gone anyway. Better out than in, I guess!”
“And we’d better drag out whoever’s been hiding inside this oversized chicken suit,” growled Danjo.
“That gas explosion of yours broke open the suit’s control centre,” said Furp, peering at a shattered glass window at the back of the beak. “Whoever’s inside must’ve looked out from here.”
“Let’s see,” said Zill. She spat a slime-line into the broken beak’s depths and then yanked it out. Tangled in the end of the sticky rope was a tiny, scrawny figure with fluffy white feathers, little black eyes and a delicate beak.
Plog stared. “Who are you?”
“I . . . am Lord Klukk,” chirped the little creature.
Maynard sat up groggily. “YOU?” He looked horrified. “But . . . you’re cute and sweet!”
“How dare you!” snarled Klukk, trying to act all mean – but somehow he just seemed even cuter. “I am your evil master! I am destined to rule!”
“Come off it. You’re just a lovely little chick.” Maynard shuddered. “No wonder you always spoke to us through smellyvision sets, with lights set up to make your shadow look yukky and scary.” He jumped up and ran away. “Well, I’m off. Me and my maggot-mates will be laughing stocks if it ever gets out that we served a tiny chicken. We’ll never work for you again!”
“Come buk-buk-back!” Klukk yelled. “This is just a minor problem. I can still triumph over all monsters!”
“Don’t think so,” said Plog. “You’re so tiny you couldn’t even duff up a dust-mite. You don’t even look like a monster.”
“I’m not. I’m buk-buk-better,” Klukk bragged. “My grandmother was the pet hen of Godfrey Gunk himself – creator of Trashland!”
Zill’s eyes widened. “You know about Godfrey Gunk, the mad genius inventor?”
“My grandmother was the cleverest chicken in the world thanks to the special buk-buk-brain-grain Godfrey fed her. But he walked out soon after I hatched. He never saw what a buk-buk-brilliant chick I was – very, very small, buk-buk-but buk-buk-better than anyone else!”
Danjo snorted. But Plog shushed him, fascinated.
“My family laughed at me when I said I was an evil genius. So I left Godfrey’s garden for the wild wilderness of the rubbish dump buk-buk-beyond.” Klukk glared at Bolli and Frit. “Little things like you were all over the place. I had to rule you! I employed evil monsters to help me and even learned how to create my own toxic creatures . . .”
Furp tutted. “But why?”
“I had to take over the world to prove to my buk-buk-brothers and sisters that I was the buk-buk-best!” claimed Klukk. “And when my hypno-gas reaches Godfrey Gunk’s garden I’ll control them as well as everyone else. Finally they will see what a diabolical mastermind I am!”
“So,” Plog breathed. “That’s why you wanted to take over Trashland.”
Danjo nodded. “Just to show off!”
Furp looked at Zill. “We live in Godfrey Gunk’s house, and I’ve never seen any chickens there.”
“Me neither,” Zill agreed. “They must all have moved away, ages ago.”
“So all his scheming has been for nothing,” Plog concluded. “I know he’s crazy and evil and all that . . . but I actually feel a bit sorry for him.”
“I know what you mean,” said Furp.
“But what can we do with him?” Danjo wondered. “He’ll always be up to bad stuff.”
“Hey!” Frit called from the edge of the tower. “Now this big chicken suit’s fallen over we can see where the gas is coming from.”
Bolli nodded. “From its oversized butt!”
“Of course!” Plog ran over to see thick white smoke drifting from the enormous chicken’s tail feathers. “That’s why Klukk was always walking near the front of his smog cloud – he was pushing it out as he went along.”
“And that’s why he needed such a big suit,” Furp realized. “It must be a walking hypnogas factory!”
“Good job we’re still wearing our gas masks,” said Zill.
“But Klukk doesn’t have one,” Plog murmured. “And that gives me an idea . . .” He crouched and got closer to Klukk as the smoke began to wisp around them. “Now, listen to me, Klukk. You are a very happy, lovely little chicken.”
“What?” screeched Klukk. But then the gas got up his beak and he smiled a little sleepily. “Um . . . happy and lovely, you say?”
“Very happy and extremely lovely,” Plog assured him. “And you are never happier than when you are pecking about all by yourself – as far from the Darkest Corner and the Murky Badlands as you can get.” He smiled at his friends. “In fact, somewhere in the empty wild lands beyond the Car Wreck Coast would be good . . .”
“I’ll go at once!” Klukk declared with a big grin. “I’m so happy! Isn’t it buk-buk-brilliant? I love pecking about by myself . . .” He flapped on top of the head of his massive chicken suit and slid all the way down its back to the square below. “WHEEEEEE!”
“It’s over,” Furp whispered, watching Klukk skip merrily away into the distance.
“We beat him!” Danjo grabbed Plog in a huge, crusty hug. “You used Klukk’s own weapon against him!”
“Fantastic plan, Fur-boy,” Zill agreed.
“But that gas is still spurting out from the big chicken’s bum,” Frit fretted.
“Not for long!” Furp hopped into the shattered control room at the back of the brass beak and started fiddling with wires and switches. “Whatever blows out can be made to suck up . . . like so!”
As Plog and his friends watched, the gas began vanishing inside the huge, feathery backside as if a giant hoover was hidden within! The chicken suit began to fill up like a vast inflatable. Finally it rose into the air and started to drift away.
“There!” Furp grinned. “It should float back to the Badlands, sucking in gas as it goes. If my calculations are right, it should eventually pop harmlessly high over the Darkest Corner!”
“Wa-hooooo!” Danjo punched the air. “Furp LeBurp, you’re a genius!”
“But what about the rest of the gas drifting over Trashland?” asked Zill.
“We’ll just have to spread nasty smells all over the land,” said Plog. “That will soon break the hypnotic hold.”
“Ooooh, can we help?” asked Bolli. “We’ve always wanted to go on a tour of Trashland, haven’t we, Frit?”
Frit nodded keenly. “And our bottoms are well up for the challenge.” He tooted so hard that a nearby fan fell over. “See?”
“That smells horrible!” Danjo gasped for breath. “They’ve got the job as far as I’m concerned!”
“Thanks.” Bolli let off with happiness, and ran away with Frit. “You four are the greatest!”
“You know what?” said Danjo, grinning round at his fellow Squaddies as they stared out over Trashland. “I think he might just be right!”
>
Back at the Slime Squad’s secret base, the All-Seeing PIE was watching Lord Klukk vanish happily into the distance.
“That’s one menace defeated,” he murmured. “But there are many other evil monsters lurking in the Badlands. And now Klukk has gone, the worst of the worst will be battling it out to take his place as Trashland’s Most Wanted. The Slime Squad will be needed to protect the innocent more than ever . . .” PIE chuckled. “Which will suit them down to the ground!”
He tuned his electronic sensors to the top of Choketown’s tower and proudly watched his team celebrate their victory. The future might be full of menace, but the present was a time for fun.
And as he joined Furp, Zill and Danjo in a vigorous rooftop conga, Plog couldn’t remember ever feeling happier.
“It’s been an amazing six months for the Slime Squad,” Furp declared. “And the newspooper reports of our victory today will finish off Plog’s special scrapbook a treat!”
“Now we can really party when we get back to base,” said Zill.
“You can count on me for some wild dancing,” said Danjo. “But I bet the months ahead will be even wilder!”
Plog looked up at the moon and the stars in the crystal-clear skies and sighed dreamily. “I wonder what other slimy adventures lie in store for us?”
“Lots, Fur-boy.” Zill kissed him on the cheek and spun him round and round in a dance of pure happiness, as the moon shone smiling down. “Lots and lots and lots and lots!”
Also by Steve Cole
[ASTROSAURS]
Riddle of the Raptors
The Hatching Horror
The Seas of Doom
The Mind-Swap Menace
The Skies of Fear
The Space Ghosts
Day of the Dino-Droids
The Terror-Bird Trap
The Planet of Peril
The Star Pirates
The Claws of Christmas
The Sun-Snatchers
Revenge of the Fang
The Carnivore Curse
The Dreams of Dread
The Robot Raiders
The Twist of Time
The Sabre-Tooth Secret
The Forest of Evil
Earth Attack!
The T-Rex Invasion
The Castle of Frankensaur
[ASTROSAURS ACADEMY]
Destination: Danger!
Contest Carnage!
Terror Underground!
Jungle Horror!
Deadly Drama!
Christmas Crisis!
Volcano Invaders!
Space Kidnap!
[COWS IN ACTION]
The Ter-Moo-nators
The Moo-my’s Curse
The Roman Moo-stery
The Wild West Moo-nster
World War Moo
The Battle for Christmoos
The Pirate Moo-tiny
The Moogic of Merlin
The Victorian Moo-ders
The Moo-lympic Games
First Cows on the Mooon
The Viking Emoo-gency
The Udderly Moo-vellous C.I.A. Joke Book
Astrosaurs Vs Cows in Action: The Dinosaur Moo-tants
[SLIME SQUAD]
Slime Squad Vs The Fearsome Fists
Slime Squad Vs The Toxic Teeth
Slime Squad Vs The Cyber Poos
Slime Squad Vs The Supernatural Squid
Slime Squad Vs The Killer Socks
Slime Squad Vs The Last Chance Chicken
Slime Squad Vs The Alligator Army
Slime Squad Vs The Conquering Conks
For older readers:
Z. Rex
Z. Raptor
Z. Apocalypse
THE SLIME SQUAD vs THE LAST CHANCE CHICKEN
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 448 17491 1
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2014
Copyright © Steve Cole, 2011
Map © Steve Cole and Dynamo Design, 2011
Illustrations copyright © Woody Fox, 2011
First Published in Great Britain
Red Fox 9781862308817 2011
The right of Steve Cole to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
