The Great Cheese Robbery

by Chris Mould

  “What’s that?” cried Lily and Button at the same time. Their hearts were beating fast and their eyes were open wide.

  “Oh no,” groaned Uncle Noggin. “Not again!”

  “Woodlice!” Captain Crabsticks roared. “Abandon breakfast!”

  But before anybody could move, the woodlice were upon them, scrabbling and fiddling and scratching. Around their feet, up on to their knees, snatching the biscuit crumbs. Hundreds of them. Thousands of little feelers tickled the pirates’ arms and legs.

  Lily gave a muffled yell. “Gerroff my breakfast!”

  “RUN FOR IT!” shouted Uncle Noggin and they all headed into the darkness.

  The Pocket Pirates kept moving until the click-click-clicking of woodlouse legs had stopped. They could see a chink of light up ahead.

  Button approached first. He climbed through the hole and found himself looking out into the kitchen. And right there in front of him was the huge white door that led to the place called Fridge. Button looked up at the clock in the kitchen. It was nearly lunchtime. There’s one way to get through a fridge door when you’re two inches high, and that’s to wait until a monster-size shopkeeper opens it. But the pirates couldn’t hang around forever—they needed to rescue Jones as quickly as they possibly could.

  “Perhaps a story will help pass the time,” said Old Uncle Noggin, poking his head through the hole behind Button. “Did I ever tell you about the time when I was almost cooked alive in the microwave oven? It was a Monday morning and we hadn’t eaten for three whole days. . . .”

  “Errr, perhaps not now,” said Button, wishing Uncle Noggin would concentrate.

  Just then the dog bounded into the kitchen. He came racing toward them.

  “We’ve been seen!” Button squeaked, and scrambled back through the gap in the wall.

  “No, we haven’t,” said Lily calmly. “Look.”

  They stuck their heads out of the gap again and watched as Doyle skidded to a halt at the big white door. He rubbed his face against Fridge and barked excitedly, calling to Mr. Tooey to come and feed him.

  “He’s hungry,” whispered Lily as they crouched inside the cracked wood of the baseboard.

  “What splendid luck,” said Captain Crabsticks.

  “This is our chance! We need to seize the moment while Doyle is distracted,” said Button.

  Suddenly, everything went dark. Something was blocking the hole. Button reached out a hand. It felt like paper.

  “Mr. Tooey . . .” Lily said.

  They could hear the owner of the junk shop grumbling in the kitchen. He was complaining about how Doyle was always hungry and how food was always disappearing from the shelves in the middle of the night.

  Button thought quickly. He tore a hole in the paper and climbed through.

  “Where’s Button gone?” said Uncle Noggin in surprise.

  “It’s all right! It’s his grocery shopping!” came Button’s muffled voice.

  He was having a good look around inside Mr. Tooey’s shopping bag. There was a tub of margarine, a stack of canned dog food, a box of tea bags, a pint of milk, and a loaf of bread.

  “Huh, him and his horrible granary bread,” came a voice from behind Button. “Why does he keep buying that stuff  ? The bits get stuck in my teeth.”

  Lily had climbed through the hole and into the bag too.

  “Quick, Lily, help me lift this margarine lid,” Button said.

  “What? We’re not going in there . . . Are we?” Lily asked.

  “Hurry,” Button said. “We’ve only got seconds.”

  The two pirates grabbed the lip of the lid and pushed upward with all their might. It popped open and the smell of sunflower oil came wafting out. Button clambered through the gap between the lid and the tub, and plopped himself into the creamy mush. Lily pulled herself up and followed Button in.

  “Ugh, it’s all slimy,” she complained as she pulled the lid back down on top of them.

  “Get a move on,” Button shouted to Uncle Noggin and Captain Crabsticks.

  Too late.

  The bag was lifted into the air. Button and Lily heard a metallic clank as a can of dog food was taken out and opened, and then they felt the margarine tub being taken out of the bag.

  All at once, everything went very, very cold. Button felt a shiver go down his spine.

  From the gap in the wall, the Captain was looking on in horror. Uncle Noggin had gone silent.

  “Poor Lily and Button,” said the Captain. “Lost and alone in Fridge. They’ll be terrified without us. What now, my dear fellow?”

  “We need a plan. . . .” Noggin replied thoughtfully.

  “And I think I’ve got one!” the Captain exclaimed, slapping his thigh.

  He pointed up at the table to where the open can of dog food was sitting.

  “No . . . Really?” Noggin said.

  “It’s our only chance.”

  “I was hoping for something more . . . tasty!”

  “Me too.” The Captain shrugged. “But to be perfectly honest, I haven’t tried dog food. You never know!”

  And so they clambered through the gap in the wall and began to climb the notches and grains in the chair leg as fast as they could. Uncle Noggin puffed and panted and tried not to look down.

  They had to be quick.

  Inside Fridge, Button was lying in the curl of a celery stick. He had used the celery leaves to wipe off the margarine and now he was chomping on a slice of honey roast ham. Celery was good for a lot of things, he thought, but it didn’t taste as nice as ham.

  They had found the cheese. A big old chunk of holey deliciousness. The food that pirates loved the best.

  Button knew they would need a decent plan to get the cheese out of Fridge. Just for now, though, he and Lily were too tempted by the choice of food available. Button had lost his breakfast to the woodlouse army, and knew that if he wasn’t quick, he’d lose all the tastiest morsels in Fridge once Uncle Noggin arrived. The only thing they couldn’t eat was the cheese, as it had to be as big as possible when they handed it over to the mice.

  Meanwhile, Uncle Noggin and the Captain had reached the tabletop, huffing and panting with the effort. Uncle Noggin slid a pepper pot up to the side of the can so that he could climb up and inside. The Captain had a quick look around for Mr. Tooey, and then quickly followed.

  “I say, what’s that dreadful smell?” he said, after a squelchy landing.

  “It tastes even worse,” said Uncle Noggin.

  “My dear chap, you didn’t . . . Did you?’

  “I did,” Uncle Noggin replied, looking a bit green.

  Then the can tilted over to one side and lifted into the air.

  “Take cover!” Captain Crabsticks ordered, and burrowed deeper into the dog food.

  Button stared at the can that had just appeared on the shelf in Fridge, then jumped as the Captain’s face peered over the side, followed by Uncle Noggin’s.

  “I think this is supposed to be chicken flavor,” he said. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  They climbed out, smelling badly of the stinky pet food.

  “It’s given me gas,” said Uncle Noggin.

  “Everything gives you gas,” said Button, handing them both a celery leaf to wipe themselves down.

  “I had to try it,” Uncle Noggin insisted. “I needed something inside me. I would have wasted away to nothing otherwise.” And then, distracted, he exclaimed, “Oooh, is that the cheese? It’s a beauty!”

  As Button followed Uncle Noggin’s gaze, an idea suddenly hit him.

  “What was that story you told me once?” he asked. “Something about a big wooden horse. And soldiers . . . From that big book. You know—the one you got crushed inside a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Ah, you mean the one about the Trojan Horse?” Uncle Noggin grinned. “One of my favorites, that . . .”

  He perched on a nearby mushroom, took a chunk from one side and between munches, began the story.

  “Many man
y many years ago, the ancient Greeks were at war with people called the Trojans. One day, a huge horse made of wood was left at the gates of the Trojan city, Troy. The Trojans thought it was a peace offering from the Greek army, so they wheeled it inside the gates and admired it all day long. But what they didn’t know was that the Greek army was hiding inside the horse’s tummy. When darkness fell, the soldiers all climbed out of the horse. With their deadly weapons they took over the city and that was the end of Troy.”

  “Why do you want a story now, young fellow?” quizzed the Captain. “Aren’t we supposed to be thinking of a way to get inside the mice’s den?”

  “I think Button has a plan, Cap’n sir . . . ,” said Lily, grinning.

  “Captain Crabsticks, please could you cut a hole in that cheese?” asked Button, still staring at the enormous lump.

  “Of course. Niftiest sword on the Seven Seas, at your service,” said the Captain, with a little bow.

  “I mean a hole right out of the middle. You know, so it’s hollow,” Button continued.

  “Ahhhhh . . . You mean like the wooden horse in the story?” said Uncle Noggin, tapping his nose.

  “Exactly!” Button said.

  “Button, you are a genius!” Lily exclaimed, clapping her hands, then realizing how cold they felt. “By the way, it’s freezing in here. We need to get a move on.”

  And before they knew it, the Captain had drawn his sword and was carving his way into the middle of the hunk of cheese.

  Everyone filled their mouths and their bags with tasty pieces. To the Pocket Pirates, good cheese was pure treasure. It was better than any gold or sparkling jewels.

  When the lump was hollow, Button stood back and pondered. How would they lower the cheese to the floor? Then he had his second brilliant idea of the day.

  Button pulled a shoelace from his bag and unrolled it. He threw one end over the rails of the shelf above, catching it as it came back down, then looped it around the cheese and tied it tightly. Lily and Uncle Noggin grabbed the other end of the shoelace and tugged hard.

  “Heave-ho, crew!” cheered the Captain as the cheese rose into the air.

  Button climbed on to the margarine tub and jumped aboard.

  “Pull to the edge, please,” he asked Uncle Noggin and Lily.

  As the crew shuffled to the edge of the shelf, Button pulled on the shoelace to make the cheese swing. Then Lily and Uncle Noggin slowly let out the rope from their hands, lowering their cargo to the bottom shelf.

  “Treasure ahoy!” shouted Lily.

  Button slid down from the cheese, untied the shoelace, and stuffed it back into his bag.

  “Now,” he said cheerfully, “we just need to work out how to open the door and get out of here!”

  Button held the huge stick of celery at one end, and at the other, the Captain and Lily wedged it into the seal of the door. Button pulled it back with Uncle Noggin’s help and then, very slowly, the seal unstuck itself and the door gently opened.

  “Last chance for food shopping,” said Uncle Noggin, and as he shoved his face into a large pile of fancy chocolates, Button grabbed a slab of fresh fish from a packet with clear plastic wrapped around it and stuffed it into his bag.

  They carefully squeezed through the open door, pushing the cheese out of Fridge and on to the tiled floor.

  “Uncle Noggin, I need you to head to the old toy box and wheel back the wooden train,” Button instructed.

  “I’ll do my best, but I think I’ve eaten too much,” Noggin admitted as he hobbled off.

  “The other way . . .” said Lily, hiding a chuckle.

  “Aye aye,” he said. “So it is.” And he set off in the opposite direction, puffing and blowing and trumping out loud.

  The light was fading now. It was the perfect time of day to wheel the cheese down the hallway to the mice. Mr. Tooey wouldn’t be back. A day in the shop always wore him out and they knew he would be resting in front of the TV in his favorite chair, trying not to nod off.

  After what seemed like hours, Uncle Noggin returned, pushing the wooden toy train across the floor toward them.

  “Are . . . you . . . ready . . . ?” asked Uncle Noggin who, by now, was panting even harder.

  “We’re ready,” said Button and Lily.

  Together, they heaved the large chunk of cheese onto the carriage. It was a bit too wide and wobbled unevenly in its place.

  “It will be okay,” said Uncle Noggin. “I’ll take it slow.”

  Button grinned. All Uncle Noggin ever did was “take it slow.”

  “Shall we?” said Button, turning to Lily.

  “Let’s do it!” she replied. They threw their bags into the back of the train and climbed into the hole that Captain Crabsticks had expertly carved into the cheese. Then Uncle Noggin picked up the slice that made the door to cover them up and he fastened it into place.

  “Are you okay in there?” he said.

  “Shipshape,” said Lily.

  Button couldn’t answer. His mouth was already full of cheese.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the train now leaving the kitchen is the six forty-five service to Mouse Hole,” Noggin announced. “Please join for connections to Book Shelf and Toy Box.”

  “Well done, old thing,” said the Captain. “You’d be a splendid train driver, if you weren’t a pirate!’

  Uncle Noggin gave a little “TOOT TOOT” and began to push from the back. Captain Crabsticks steered from the front and off they went.

  All seemed to be going smoothly until, as they rounded the corner into a puddle of light cast by a streetlamp outside the shop window, the Captain suddenly stopped.

  “Oh crumbs,” he winced.

  “What’s wrong, shipmate?” asked Uncle Noggin from the back, still trying to push the train.

  “D-D-Doyle. Abandon ship!”

  The dark shape of a dog loomed in front of them. It sniffed and came closer.

  “Crew, it’s been an honor to be your captain,” said Captain Crabsticks bravely, straightening up, ready to face his doom.

  “Eh?” said Button from inside the cheese.

  Doyle’s face was now level with the Captain’s. A long pink tongue shot out of the dog’s slobbering mouth. . . .

  “Cap’n! I’m coming!” shouted Noggin, hobbling toward them as fast as he could.

  But before Noggin could do anything, the dog started licking the Captain from head to toe, covering him in drool. After a few long licks, Doyle wandered back into the dark kitchen.

  “Er . . . Captain, are you still alive?” asked Button.

  “I think so . . .” the Captain said. “Must have been the dog food he could smell.”

  “Phew,” gasped Uncle Noggin. “Thought you were a goner, sir.”

  “This ship won’t go down without a fight!” the Captain cheered. “And now for those dreadful mice!”

  “The wooden horse has arrived at the gates of Troy,” whispered Uncle Noggin. It was his way of telling Button and Lily that they had arrived.

  Lily and Button were ready to leap out of the cheese if Jones was handed over and ready to stay put if he wasn’t.

  Captain Crabsticks stood at the entrance to the mouse hole. Then he took his sword and tapped it against the broken wooden doorway.

  Something poked him in the back. The Captain turned around to find himself nose to snout with Pepper Jack. The mouse had been hiding outside the hole, waiting for them to turn up.

  Everyone knew that Captain Crabsticks was an old softy, but he was also fearless. He raised his sword slowly, pointing it toward Pepper Jack’s pink button nose.

  “Now, listen here, you old scratcher. We’ve brought you your cheese. So let’s be having our ship’s cat back. Do you hear me?”

  Pepper Jack made no sound. He simply pushed the Captain’s blade aside with a single claw. Then he lifted the Captain and pinned him against the baseboard. The Captain couldn’t move.

  Uncle Noggin mustered up all his bravery and thundered toward the mouse, only
to be whipped off his feet by Pepper Jack’s huge tail.

  The other mice poured out of the mouse hole, sniffing and searching. Their tails winding and curling and their long noses poking here and there. They took hold of the cheese and dragged it inside their den, but there was no sign of Jones.

  Just then, Doyle came padding across the shop floor toward them. In a flash, Pepper Jack released his grip on the Captain and shot inside the hole. Crabsticks was left in a heap on the floor, watching helplessly as Doyle gave Uncle Noggin a thorough licking. The old pirate had been covered in pet food too. Then the dog wandered off again and curled up in his basket.

  “At least we’re on good terms with Doyle,” said Uncle Noggin. “But now we need to get in there and find Button and Lily.”

  “Don’t worry about them,” said the Captain. “They can handle this. I’ve got a plan. . . . Now, where is that book on pest control? I was reading it only earlier. . . .”

  “WHAT? We’re in the middle of a crisis and you want to read?” said Uncle Noggin.

  “Trust me, old chap,” Captain Crabsticks said, looking at the bookshelves high above them. “Ah, there it is. Help me get up to that shelf, would you?”

  In the mice’s den, Lily and Button sat huddled inside the cheese, filled with fear. The mice had rolled the cheese through the mouse hole and when they came to a stop, the doorway Captain Crabsticks had carved was facing the floor. There was no way to escape.

  The little pirates listened as the mice clawed and nibbled at the cheese from the outside, waiting for them to burst through.