The Day My Butt Went Psycho

by Andy Griffiths

  ‘Now I’m really going to kick your bum,’ said the Kicker, walking towards the Kisser.

  Suddenly there was a huge explosion from the side vent.

  A blast of hot gas shot out and knocked them all flying.

  Ned fell flat on his face and as he did, he lost his grip on the leaf blower. It fell onto the ground in front of him.

  The Kisser acted fast.

  He rushed over to the leaf blower, picked it up and then pulled Ned up by his collar. Holding Ned against him like a shield, with the leaf blower aimed at his temple, the Kisser faced Zack.

  ‘Drop your gun, Zack,’ he said. ‘Or Ned gets it . . . and this time his stink will not protect him. I’ll make sure of that.’

  Zack had no choice. The Kisser had out-manoeuvred him. He couldn’t shoot. He might hit Ned.

  Zack dropped the gun.

  ‘Kick it to me!’ said the Kisser.

  Zack kicked it across the ground. The Kisser put his foot on it.

  ‘I’m very sorry,’ he said, pointing the leaf blower at Zack and the Kicker. ‘But I’m going to have to eliminate you all.’

  ‘But why?’ said Zack.

  ‘Because you are threatening the success of the revolution, and I cannot allow for that to happen,’ he said.

  ‘When did you switch sides?’ said the Kicker.

  ‘It was in Botswana,’ said the Kisser. ‘When we were fighting the Great Bum Uprising of ’98. I was captured by a group of rogue bums. They held me prisoner in a drain for two months.’

  ‘I remember,’ said the Kicker. ‘I risked my life rescuing you from that hellhole.’

  ‘It wasn’t so bad really,’ said the Kisser. ‘Once you got used to it.’

  The Kicker shuddered. ‘They must have brainwashed you,’ he said.

  ‘No, they didn’t brainwash me,’ said the Kisser. ‘They befriended me. It was during those two months that I began to see that bums are not to be feared. They are an amazing life-form. So simple. So elegant. Not at all like I’d imagined them to be. They were funny, warm, generous, wise . . .’

  ‘Spare me the details!’ said the Kicker. ‘They’re bums—and they want to take over the world!’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said the Kisser, his eyes shining. ‘And why shouldn’t they? We humans have made a mess of it. Bums are the future. They are the whole point of evolution and it is not only an honour, but our duty to serve them.’

  He turned to Zack.

  ‘You should be proud of your bum, Zack. Very proud!’

  The Kicker shook his head. ‘I feel sorry for you,’ he said.

  ‘On the contrary, Kicker,’ said the Kisser. ‘It is I who feel sorry for you, for now you must die.’

  ‘But why did you wait until now?’ said the Kicker. ‘If the revolution was so important, why didn’t you get rid of us before this?’

  ‘Because I needed your help to get this far,’ said the Kisser. ‘But I can make it alone from here. And, thanks to Ned, the bum-mobile will make it even easier. Now I can go forward and receive the honour of being one of the first humans to be rearranged. I’ll be the first of a new breed. The first of a new world order! The bums know how well and how faithfully I’ve served them. And when they find out that I’ve rid them of one of their greatest enemies, the B-team, they’ll probably make me a Prince!’

  At this final betrayal the Kicker let out a cry of rage and charged at the Kisser.

  But the Kisser was too fast. He pushed Ned to the ground, dropped the leaf blower to his waist and fired.

  The blast sent the Kicker flying backwards—over the cliff edge.

  Ned saw his chance and acted fast. He grabbed the nose of the leaf blower and tried to wrest it away from the Kisser.

  But the Kisser held on tight.

  They struggled to gain control of the weapon, the Kisser pushing Ned closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.

  ‘You’ll never get away with this!’ said Ned, giving the leaf blower an almighty tug. ‘You’re insane!’

  ‘Maybe,’ said the Kisser. ‘But I’d rather be insane than dead.’

  And saying this he let go of the leaf blower and blew a kiss at Ned, point-blank range.

  Ned staggered backwards and fell over the cliff, the leaf blower still in his hands.

  Zack gasped. Not only had the Kisser killed the Smacker and the Kicker, but now Ned as well. Zack remembered the ruthlessness of the Kisser as he held the giant blowfly under the water. He was now disposing of human beings with the same cold efficiency, and Zack knew that he was next.

  The Kisser picked up the bum-gun that was lying near his feet and turned towards Zack.

  ‘I’m sorry about this, Zack,’ he said. ‘You’re a good kid, but you should have listened to your bum.’

  ‘My bum’s as psycho as you are,’ said Zack.

  ‘I’m sorry you see it that way,’ said the Kisser. ‘May your bum forgive me for what I am about to do.’

  He took aim and squeezed the trigger.

  Zack closed his eyes.

  He tensed his stomach.

  But nothing happened.

  He opened his eyes.

  The Kisser was still standing there, bum-gun in hand. But instead of staples, drawing pins or nails there was just a thin trickle of water dribbling from the barrel.

  For a moment Zack wondered why Eleanor had given him a water pistol to defend himself, but then he realised the truth. The gun must have become waterlogged in the Sea of Bums.

  The Kisser pulled the trigger a few more times and then threw the gun to the ground in disgust.

  Then he looked at Zack and, without saying a word, puckered his lips and came running towards him with his arms outstretched.

  Zack turned and ran.

  If he could make it to the bum-mobile in time he could get away, but he knew he’d have to be quick.

  Suddenly, the side vent erupted again. Only this time even more violently than before.

  The blast caught Zack in the stomach and sent him sailing backwards up into the air, over the top of the Kisser and over the edge of the cliff.

  For a few moments it was almost peaceful up there in the air, away from all the drama of the previous few minutes, but then Zack stopped flying and started to fall.

  Fast.

  He looked over his shoulder.

  The blast had been so strong that it had thrown him clear of the cliff and way out over the jungle. He was now falling towards the campsite—and heading straight for the second bum launcher.

  Zack breathed a sigh of relief. This was good. The top of the bum launcher consisted of thick bumnut tree leaves which he knew would help break his fall.

  THWACK!

  Zack hit the leaves bum-first, but the impact caused the bum launcher to release itself, unleashing the full force of the spring-loaded sapling into Zack’s false bum.

  SPROING!

  After having barely touched down Zack was taking off again, hurtling through the air, back the way he’d come.

  As Zack rocketed towards the side vent he saw the bum-mobile rise into the air and take off towards the top of the bumcano.

  But right now, that was the least of Zack’s problems.

  Despite the Smacker’s reservations about the accuracy of the bum launcher, it had been aimed perfectly.

  Too perfectly.

  Zack went flying feet-first into the mouth of the side vent and began hurtling down what felt like the wildest, dirtiest waterslide in history.

  As he fell, the smell grew stronger and stronger. Zack knew this could only mean one thing. He was heading straight for the stinky heart of the bumcano!

  The slimy tunnel opened up wider and wider—and then Zack saw it. A vast reddish-brown lake that was giving off a stink of epic proportions. A bubbling, steaming cauldron of horror, broken only by what looked like giant white worms, which Zack guessed were the maggots that the Smacker had predicted would be there.

  Zack rolled over onto his stomach and tried to grab onto something to break his f
all, but he was going too fast, and the rocks were too slippery.

  The lake loomed ahead of him.

  Zack saw an overhanging piece of rock at the end of the tunnel.

  He knew it was his last chance.

  He flexed his fingers, reached up and somehow managed to hold on.

  He was safe.

  Well, as safe as it was possible to be hanging from a rock, his feet almost touching a lake full of giant maggots and who could tell how many million megalitres of one of the most toxic substances known to humans.

  Zack looked around. He was in a vast underground chamber. It was obviously the magma chamber but, judging by the stink, Zack knew that it wasn’t molten rock underneath him. The bums had clearly been busy.

  The most amazing thing about the lake was the crimson light that radiated from its centre. It was glowing like red-hot coals in a fire.

  Zack was studying the liquid, trying to work out where the light was coming from, when one of the maggots poked its white head up out of the lake. It had no eyes—just a gaping mouth. It was definitely one of the most horrible creatures Zack had ever seen.

  It rose up like a snake, its soft gummy mouth trying to latch onto Zack’s feet.

  ‘Get away!’ he yelled.

  He kicked its head, but it was like kicking a big fat rubbery slug. The maggot didn’t seem to care what Zack did to it.

  This was not good, thought Zack. Not good at all.

  ‘Zack!’ said a strangely familiar although nasal voice from above him. ‘Give me your hand.’

  It was Eleanor! Zack had never been so glad to hear another person’s voice in his life.

  ‘Where are you?’ he said.

  ‘Up here,’ said Eleanor. ‘I’m on top of the ledge you’re holding onto. Quick, give me your hand. Those maggots don’t muck around.’

  Zack hated to let go of the rock, but he hated the idea of a maggot sucking his insides out through his toes even more.

  He reached up.

  The maggot, seeming to sense that it might be about to miss out on a meal, made a sudden lunge for his foot.

  Zack felt its mouth close around his toes, but at that moment his hand met Eleanor’s and, with a massive jerk, she pulled him upwards.

  Zack felt his toes being pulled free of the maggot and he ended up lying on his stomach on top of the rock ledge next to Eleanor.

  ‘Welcome!’ she said. Zack noticed that she had three pegs on her nose. She took three pegs from Zack’s belt and handed them to him.

  ‘You’d better put these on,’ she said. ‘You’re going to need them.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Zack, clipping the pegs on his nose. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Eleanor. ‘I can look after myself. Besides, there are no bums around here. This is just the storage pool. The bums must be in another part of the bumcano, but I’ve got no idea where.’

  ‘How come you came here alone?’ said Zack.

  ‘I had to find my father,’ said Eleanor. ‘I had to know for sure.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ said Zack. ‘It wasn’t just to find your father though, was it?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Eleanor.

  ‘You came here to kill my bum,’ said Zack.

  ‘I told you,’ said Eleanor, impatiently. ‘I came here to find my father.’

  ‘And to kill my bum,’ insisted Zack.

  ‘Yes,’ said Eleanor. She looked at Zack defiantly. ‘And not just your bum either! I’m going to kill the Great White Bum and any other bums that try to stop me. I don’t know if you’ve realised it yet, Zack, but bums are about to take over the world. I couldn’t bear just sitting around doing nothing.’

  ‘But we weren’t doing nothing,’ said Zack. ‘We had the nuclear bums!’

  ‘They weren’t going to solve anything—and you know it,’ said Eleanor. ‘The bumcano would have erupted sooner or later. The Kicker was all for the nuclear bums, remember, and he’s on their side!’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ said Zack. ‘The Kicker is on our side.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Eleanor.

  ‘It’s the Kisser,’ said Zack. ‘He’s the bum sympathiser.’

  ‘How do you know?’ she said.

  ‘We were climbing up the bumcano to come and find you,’ said Zack. ‘The Kisser pretended he was in trouble and when the Smacker tried to help him he pulled her over the cliff edge. He killed her, Eleanor.’

  The blood drained from Eleanor’s face. She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. ‘Is this your idea of a joke? Or have you got methane madness again?’

  ‘I’m not joking, Eleanor,’ said Zack, touching her arm lightly and leaning in towards her. ‘And I’m not mad. He killed the Kicker, too. And Ned Smelly.’

  ‘Ned?’ said Eleanor. ‘You are lying. We left Ned back in the Great Windy Desert.’

  ‘Yes, but he repaired the bum-mobile and came after us to warn us about the Kisser,’ said Zack.

  ‘How did he know about the Kisser?’ said Eleanor.

  ‘Remember when he went back to get his lip-gloss?’ said Zack.

  Eleanor nodded.

  ‘Well,’ continued Zack, ‘he really went back to kill Ned so that nobody would know where we were. He would have killed me too, except that I was standing in front of the side vent and I got blown away before he could shoot me! Luckily I landed on one of the nuclear bum catapults. It shot me back up and down the vent.’

  Eleanor frowned as she tried to take in what Zack was saying. ‘Where’s the Kisser now?’ she said.

  ‘He took the bum-mobile,’ said Zack. ‘He was heading for the top of the bumcano when I last saw him. He’s coming to beg the bums to let him be one of the first to be rearranged.’

  Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. ‘Wait until I get my hands on that low-down, dirty, scum-sucking, bottom-feeding, double-crossing, bum-kisser!’ she said, regaining her old fire. ‘I’ll rearrange him all right. And not only from top to bottom, either. I’ll turn him inside out and back to front as well!’

  As Eleanor ranted, Zack saw something moving above the lake. ‘Here’s your chance,’ he said.

  Eleanor looked up.

  It was the Kisser.

  He had used the same piece of jungle twine that Eleanor had used to abseil down into the bumcano and was hanging directly beneath the central shaft a few metres above the lake.

  There was great excitement amongst the maggots. They headed to a spot directly underneath the Kisser and began lunging up out of the lake to try to eat him, just as they had done with Zack.

  But if the Kisser was worried he didn’t show it.

  ‘Ahh, my pretties,’ he said surveying the frantic, writhing mass beneath him. ‘How beautiful you all look in the lake-light. How strong and handsome and well-fed.’

  As he spoke the maggots gradually stopped their lunging and one by one began to sway gently underneath him.

  ‘What’s he up to?’ whispered Eleanor.

  Zack shrugged. ‘It’s hard to say,’ he said, ‘but it looks like he’s charming them.’

  As the Kisser continued to croon, more and more of the maggots rose up out of the lake, all swaying in unison, all apparently completely under the power of the Kisser’s devastating charm.

  ‘Ahh, my magnificent maggots,’ said the Kisser, reaching out to pat the head of one that had raised itself up to the Kisser’s chest. ‘My beautiful boys . . . my gorgeous girls . . .’

  Zack watched in amazement.

  ‘They love him,’ said Zack. ‘They just love him.’

  ‘I don’t know who to feel more sorry for,’ said Eleanor, screwing up her face. ‘Him or the maggots.’

  The maggots were now all trying to raise themselves high enough to be patted by the Kisser. He was doing his best to pat them all, but he only had one free hand.

  The Kisser, who had obviously been enjoying their adoration, now appeared to become slightly agitated.

  ‘Down, my darlings,’ he
said, trying to push them away. ‘Back into the lake now.’

  But the maggots were not listening to him. They had formed a tight circle around him, some had even wound themselves around his legs.

  ‘Now, now,’ said the Kisser. ‘That will do . . . get down . . . please . . .’

  Zack could see the Kisser was trying to pull himself back up the twine, but was being dragged down by the maggots.

  Zack looked at Eleanor. ‘What should we do?’ he said.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Eleanor.

  ‘But we can’t leave him there,’ said Zack. ‘He’ll fall.’

  ‘So?’ said Eleanor. ‘He deserves it.’

  ‘Nobody deserves that,’ said Zack.

  ‘And nobody deserved to die like the Kicker and the Smacker and Ned Smelly,’ said Eleanor. ‘He’s a murderer, Zack.’

  ‘You will be too if you don’t do something,’ he said. ‘We both will be.’

  ‘Help!’ screamed the Kisser. ‘Eleanor? Are you there? It’s me! The Kisser! I need help!’

  ‘You weasel!’ yelled Eleanor.

  The Kisser stopped struggling.

  ‘Eleanor?’ he said, looking all around him. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Where’s the rest of the B-team?’ she said.

  The Kisser didn’t answer.

  ‘Well?’ said Eleanor.

  ‘They were all killed while we were climbing up the bumcano to come and rescue you,’ said the Kisser, still trying to pull himself up the rope. ‘It was terrible.’

  ‘You’re a liar,’ said Eleanor. ‘Tell me the truth. The whole truth this time.’

  There was another long pause. The only sound was the slurping and sucking of the maggots as they tried to pull the Kisser down into the steaming brown lake.

  ‘Well,’ said Eleanor. ‘What’s it to be? Truth or maggots?’

  ‘I know where your father is,’ said the Kisser. ‘Help me down from here and I’ll tell you everything, I swear. I’m slipping. I haven’t got much time.’

  As he spoke the maggots pulled him closer to the end of the rope. They were winning the tug of war.

  Eleanor watched impassively.

  ‘Eleanor,’ said Zack. ‘We’ve got to save him. He could help us find your father.’

  ‘He’s bluffing,’ she said.

  ‘You don’t know that for sure.’