by Lyn McNicol
The dog pointed the powerful beams up the lane, but the fog was so dense that all that resulted was a ghostly glow.
“I need an illumination spell and then an unjamming spell. That’s a lot to manage without my trusty ’Chief” sighed Badger.
“Did someone mention jamming?” purred Velvet Viv, one of the local alley cats. She was joined by her pals, Trixie Rose and Silky Smith, who slunk along the lane, dragging a curious contraption behind them.
“We heard you were having a party, Badger, so we’ve brought the Meowzik Maker. We’ll be your DJs for the evening,” announced Trixie.
Badger raised his eyebrows. “Disc jockeys?”
“Oh, are horses coming to the party, too?” asked Hamish hopefully.
“DJs! Of course! I do love a dog in a dinner jacket,” smiled Cheryl dreamily.
“Actually the D is for Diva, and the J is for Jivers,” sighed Silky.
“Great,” said Badger, “if this party ever gets started.”
The cats’ eyes widened and glittered with the excitement of being in charge of the tunes for the evening.
“Cats eyes!” Badger exclaimed. “That’s it! Can they really light the way? Can you help me see what has caused the Wim-Wim to get stuck?”
“Our eyes are just another two of our many beautiful gifts. Follow me,” purred Trixie, leading and lighting the way.
Badger crept behind Trixie, Silky and Velvet Viv towards where the Wim-Wim was wedged.
The cats’ eyes lit up the travelling machine from below. Badger could see now what had happened. In the fog, the Wim-Wim had tried to land, and missing his garden, had plummeted into the narrow lane at an awkward angle. Its undercarriage was firmly jammed.
“Thanks, Cats. I can see now what needs to be done. Otto!” shouted Badger. summoning his fez.
The little red hat zoomed quickly to Badger’s head.
“I have to remember the unjamming spell. Can you help me?” asked Badger hopefully.
“Of course, Badger. Just tell me what I can do,” said Otto, being unusually obedient.
“I need some butter, soap and hot water.”
Otto sped off to the garden to fetch the required ingredients for the spell, whilst Badger scratched his head trying to remember the rhyme. As Otto returned with the various bits and bobs, Badger threw them all into his plant pot and began:
“Willow-stick and jewel bug scram,
Candlewick and chowder clam,
Knobs of butter and roasted yam,
Shimmy the soap and now … UNJAM!”
Badger stood back feeling rather pleased with himself, but his smile soon turned to one of horror as he watched the lane fill with sticky strawberry jam and thousands of peas.
“Oh no! I must have got it wrong!” Badger frowned.
Otto raced gleefully towards the delicious mess and started scooping up hatfuls, because at exactly the same time as Badger had been performing his spell, Otto had hovered above, whispering a countercharm: “With a block of cheese instead of butter, make jam and frozen peas go splutter.”
Badger looked at Otto suspiciously. He checked his ingredients in the plant pot, and discovered that the butter had been replaced with a block of mouldy cheddar. He threw it aside.
“Otto!” shouted Badger firmly, “Get back here now! You’re supposed to be helping me, not making things worse!”
Otto flew to Badger’s head and sat on top cautiously.
“It was only a joke! Don’t take it so seriously,” said the fez.
“’Chief would never overrule my spells, Otto. I’m really disappointed. Isn’t there a mascot code of honour?”
“Yes, there is, but it only exists when we are valued and made to feel worthwhile.” Otto fidgeted.
Badger shook his head in exasperation and sighed.
“Right, I’ll try again.”
“With soapy lathers and a bit of luck,
Please widen the fences and come unstuck
And while you’re at it, clear this mess,
And make the party a great success.”
All at once, the fences on either side of the Wim-Wim creaked and moved further apart. It shot immediately upwards into the thick sky. The jam vanished and the peas rolled away.
Dodgy Dave shone his spotlight towards Badger’s garden. There, the alley cats lay on their backs to form a landing strip, their vivid eyes pointing towards the sky. Soon, the Wim-Wim came into view and made its descent to land safely in the garden.
Badger breathed a heavy sigh of relief, until he spotted Otto flapping his tassle around the top of the Wim-Wim.
“Otto!” shouted Badger sternly “Get down here now! I told you this was a no-fly zone.”
The little fez returned and fanned his tassle over Badger’s eyes. The Mystical Mutt stumbled blindly around the garden, wishing and hoping his beloved ‘Chief would return as soon as possible.
As the alley cats set up their Meowzik Maker in the lane, Cheryl decorated the bins with fairy lights. Top Dog, Dodgy Dave and Pickle chatted more about their bygone antics as a gang.
Then out of the blue, Otto began to whizz around excitedly above them all. He pointed his tassle towards the crack in the fence. Everyone looked that way to see their old pals Snif and Timmy, the cat with the crumpled ear, arrive.
“Hello everyone. We come bearing magical mead, made with merriment and mirth,” grinned Snif, full of cheer.
Badger, Top Dog, Dodgy Dave and Pickle rushed to welcome them back.
“It’s great you could make it. I know how busy you are over at PLOPP, especially at this time of year,” smiled Badger.
“PLOPP? Please tell me that’s not a portable pooper scooper?” winced Dodgy Dave.
“Hah! No, my friend!” said Snif. “You left before we set it up. It’s a drop-in centre for strays. It’s called PLOPP for short: the Peaceful Living Organisation for Pooches and Pussycats. We provide food, bedding and a few home comforts until our clients are rehomed.”
“You mean you work side by side with … the homeless?” said Dodgy Dave scornfully.
Everyone fell silent until Velvet Viv piped up. “Oi, shut it, dancer boy! We all helped you win the Barking Boogie, remember, when you were a stray on the lane.”
“It might be all high kicks and glamour for you now, Dodgy Dave, but you were once homeless too,” scowled Pickle.
“Never forget where you’ve come from,” added Top Dog.
Dodgy Dave hung his head in shame. “You’re right. I’m sorry Snif and Timmy. It’s truly admirable what you are doing. I wish PLOPP had existed when I was on the run from the Dog Catcher. I was being thoughtless. Will you all accept my sincerest apologies?” he pleaded, flashing his best showbiz smile.
They all nodded in agreement.
“So what’s this mead all about? Is it bubbly?” asked Cheryl, changing the subject swiftly. She took a big sniff of the terracotta pot that Snif and Timmy had brought.
“Mmmm, is that honey I can smell? And if I’m not mistaken, there’s a hint of peppermint too,” said Cheryl knowingly.
“That is indeed correct: honey, peppermint and the freshest milk from the Big Folk farm. But we are still waiting for the essential ingredient,” teased Snif.
“What’s that then?” asked Pickle disparagingly. “One of Cheryl’s bottom burps and a streak of Timmy’s snot?”
“Very funny!” said Snif. “For your information, Timmy’s nose doesn’t run anymore, and Cheryl’s sorted out her windypops.”
“But what is the missing ingredient?” begged Hamish, licking his lips excitedly.
“Go on! Just tell us Snif,” said Top Dog.
“Our pal Lennie is on his way with it. You’ll find out soon enough,” he replied.
“Oh pleeeeeaaaaaaaaaaasssee,” they chorused.
“Okay,” sighed Snif. “If you must know, the essential ingredient is Stinkiberry.”
“See?” said Pickle triumphantly. “I told you it was going to be horrible.”
“It�
��s from the legendary Stinkiberry tree of the Herralayan Mountains in deepest Gibbertibby,” continued Snif, ignoring Pickle. “But that’s not all. Once we have the Stinkiberry, Badger has to add his famous sparkle and fizz spell. And then …” he nodded to Cheryl, “… we’ll have bubbles too!”
“Good luck with that then, Snif,” jeered Pickle. “In case you haven’t noticed, Badger’s magical neckerchief, the mascot of his spells, is currently missing.”
“What? ’Chief’s missing? Surely not! We’ll all be lost without the neckerchief,” cried Snif, peering at Badger through the fog.
Just then, Otto flew in amongst them, and tossed his tassle around haughtily. “Er, I think you’ll find that I’m more than capable of helping Badger in his hour of need.”
Badger shuddered and headed up the lane to see how preparations were going. The others continued catching up with each other.
“So, how does it feel to be a do-gooding member of the community now then, Snif?” sneered Pickle.
“It feels really good, Pickle. After all those years I spent on the streets, at least I know how it feels when we get a new stray in.”
“Don’t you miss all the action and adventure we used to have?”
“Action and adventure? You must be kidding. All I remember is being on the run all the time, and scraping around for food,” Snif replied.
“You’re getting soft in your old age. Nothing’s the same anymore.”
“Yes, I heard Pogo Paws went off to pastures new. You must miss him.”
“Him? He was even softer than you. I’m glad to be shot of him really. At least now I’m head of the gang.”
“Of course you are, Pickle: a gang of one. Well, enjoy it while it lasts,” chuckled Snif.
Pickle looked at Snif grumpily and sidled off towards the Crunchy Munchy Chewy Chops.
“What’s that noise?” shrieked Cheryl.
“It sounds like quacking to me, and it’s getting closer,” said Timmy. Out in the lane, Badger could hear the approaching quacks too.
Through the eerie mist, seven ducks appeared. They were not walking, nor were they flying … they were simply floating.
“Uh oh!” said Badger looking down at his paws which were soaked through. “It looks like the lane is flooding.”
The birds struggled through the pea-souper to tell Badger what had happened.
Otto gulped and made a hasty retreat from Badger’s head, flying off to hide in the fog. Badger groaned as he discovered that when Otto had gone to get water for his unjamming spell, he’d left the hosepipe running. As a result, water was seeping far and wide … mostly into their lane.
Can things really get any worse, on this, the most exciting night of the year? he thought miserably, running to shut off the hosepipe.
Meanwhile, Cheryl and Dodgy Dave were splashing up and down the lane, twirling umbrellas and doing their “Singing in the Rain” routine. Snif and Timmy were lugging their precious cargo of mead to higher ground. Hamish’s ears were sodden, and Top Dog had tied them on top of his head to stop them getting any wetter.
Otto had returned and was trying in vain to scoop the water away from the lane, one tiny hatful at a time, while the alley cats had taken refuge up the old oak tree.
Badger tried and tried to twist the tap of the hosepipe, but it wouldn’t budge. It was completely stuck. Without ’Chief, Otto or anyone else to help him, he closed his eyes and hoped for the best, as he summoned his old faithful anticlockwise spell:
“With backwards leap and small rotate,
Take this tap and lubricate.”
He tentatively nudged the tap, and it moved a tiny smidgen. He kept turning … a little bit more and a little bit more. Soon, the water flow had completely stopped.
He sprinted back to the lane with a bounce in his step. At last, he had managed a successful spell. All — By — Himself!
“Thank goodness, you’re back, Badger. We need one of your spells to sort this!” shouted Snif.
Badger looked with renewed confidence at where his neckerchief used to be, and over at Otto. He still crossed his paws for luck.
“Okay, the good news is that the water has stopped, so let’s try my Sneaky Leaky spell to get rid of all this flooding. Stand back everyone. If this goes wrong, we could all be at a pool party tonight.”
Badger stood very still and closed his eyes. Sparkles of light appeared around him as he uttered the words:
“Puddle guddle, splishy sploshy.
Gush and gurgle, wishy washy.
Paws are wet, and water seeps.
Save us from the flooding deeps.”
Everyone held their breath.
Then ever so slowly, the waters began to retreat.
Badger breathed a sigh of relief. Another problem sorted.
As the others gathered brushes to sweep away the remaining water from the lane, Badger spotted a single light shining through the still thick fog, further down the lane.
As the light drew closer, Badger saw it was his old pals Lennie and his brother Louie. The light was coming from a bicycle lamp strapped to Lennie’s head. He hurried towards them.
“I love your lamp, Lennie. That’s ingenious,” said Badger. “Thank you both so much for making it on such a dreadful night. I’m sure this weather is nothing like you’ve seen on your travels.”
“We’ve been globe-trotting for a long time, Badger, so we’ve learned how to survive in all sorts of conditions” said Lennie solemnly, tapping his bicycle lamp. “And I wouldn’t have missed this reunion for the world.”
“What’s that?” asked Badger pointing at a small wooden box around Lennie’s neck.
“That is the all-important ingredient for Snif’s magical mead.”
“We’re almost ready to get this party started then,” grinned Badger. “Come and see the others.”
“Lennie!” shouted Top Dog, Dodgy Dave, Snif and Pickle in unison, as he and his brother emerged from the fog.
“I’ve got the Stinkiberry, Snif, and I’ve also brought a photo album of our travels to show you,” said Lennie proudly, looking at Louie.
Snif went off to mix his mead, while the others sat down to look at Lennie’s pictures, aided by the lamp on top of his head.
“Badger,” whispered Snif. “The mead is ready for your sparkle and fizz spell.”
The mystical mutt jumped up and headed for the earthenware cask. He closed his eyes, crossed his paws across the pot and said:
“Take just three anti-swizzle sticks,
Add fourteen dizzy tizzies,
Stir in a dash of bubble flicks,
And mead is full of fizzes.”
The mixture exploded and a hundred dancing lights burst out with an effervescent glitz.
“Well, I think that worked after all!” beamed Badger.
“Erm, not exactly,” said Snif, as three zillion jiggling chicken pox joined their party. Seeping spots of itchy pus spilled into the lane as Otto sniggered.
“What have you done now?” yelled Badger crossly at the fez.
“I just thought it would liven things up a bit with scratchy stings and scabs. It’ll definitely keep us all moving,” grinned Otto.
“This is meant to be a party, not a sick bed. All I wished for was for everything to go to plan, and you have ruined it!” Badger barked.
The itchy spots were swarming around Cheryl and Dodgy Dave like bees.
“I command you, Otto, to stop this now!” shrieked Badger. “They are about to go on tour again. They can’t get the chicken pox. They won’t be able to dance.”
“I can, and I will, but only if you promise never to put me in the plant pot again, even when ’Chief comes back. I need to fly every day,” said Otto.
“You’re blackmailing me?” asked Badger with his eyebrows raised to the sky. “Okay, I promise. We’ll find a way to let you fly … always.”
At once, Otto flew amidst the spots and scabs, and air-marched them away from the party, across the fog and out of the lane.<
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“You’ve not lost your edge, with or without ’Chief,” grinned Snif in admiration.
Badger shrugged, knowing it was really down to Otto that the pox had disappeared.
Meanwhile, Pickle was upsetting the party’s latest arrival.
“Lennie, I can’t believe you just upped and left us in the lane. How could you manage on your own, without us?” she scoffed.
Lennie, who had been full of good cheer when he arrived, whimpered helplessly.
Louie stepped in. “He wasn’t on his own, he had me! So, if you’ve got nothing nice to say then I’d advise you to be quiet.”
“This gang reunion, if I can call it that, isn’t worth a jot. We’re not the gang we used to be. You’ve all gone namby-pamby. I blame Badger. If he hadn’t got involved with us, then we would still be as we always were,” replied Pickle huffily.
“Badger? You’re blaming Badger? If it hadn’t been for him, I’d be behind bars with the Dog Catcher right now … or worse,” said Top Dog.
“Me too,” added Dodgy Dave.
“And me,” agreed Lennie.
“All you ever talk about is how fabulous Badger is. Doesn’t anyone think about how amazing I’ve been, holding everything together in the name of the gang, while you’ve all been off doing your own things?” screamed Pickle.
“There’s nothing amazing about what you’ve done, Pickle!” said Louie angrily.
“And if you’re going to blame Badger, then you’ve no right to be at this party,” said Top Dog.
“I’m not fussed about this Goody Two-Shoes party anyway,” said Pickle.
“Fine! Well, leave then. No one really wants you here if you’re going to be so horrible,” said Lennie.
“Leave? You seriously want me to go?” asked Pickle incredulously “In this fog?”
“You said yourself that you don’t want to be here, so just go and let the rest of us get on with having a good time,” said Top Dog.
