‘Gotcha!’ I said to myself. I ran to the hole in the wall and ducked down to look through it.
Sure enough, there was the prince, waddling along the edge of the kitchen to avoid all the fighting, then ducking into the conservatory. But I knew he wasn’t going to stop there.
Grogbah was heading for the garden.
WHERE IS GROGBAH?
I raced towards the kitchen.
Why hadn’t I thought of it before? If the prince made it to the garden, he’d escape back through the boulder he’d arrived in and get away with EVERYTHING!
The kitchen was just as chaotic as the rest of the hotel.
‘Take that! And thith!’ The Molar Sisters were clutching their wands and had conjured up a tornado of plates and cups in the middle of the room. Cutlery and all kinds of jars, pans and utensils whizzed past, bouncing off the cupboards and shelves, and pelting the Royal Sorcerers.
The ancient goblin wizards chanted spells and threw their smoke pellets, but they didn’t stand a chance against the tooth fairy triplets.
‘You call that magic?’ Dentina laughed over the tornado.
‘Ha!’ Gingiva laughed. ‘Nonthenth!’
‘Your beardth look marvellouth in the wind though,’ Fluora added, grinning.
I ran into the kitchen and barged straight past the Royal Sorcerers, knocking them stumbling across the room.
‘STOP!’ a wheezy voice croaked. I turned just in time to see a grizzled goblin wizard in his biscuit-tin-sized wheelchair careering towards me. ‘I’LL GET YOU, YOU SNOTLING!’
‘Oh, thtop your madneth!’ the Molar Sisters laughed. They flicked their wands and I flew into the air, just as the old grunion sped underneath me and clattered down the steps to Ooof’s basement. ‘Where to, thweety?’ they cackled, dancing about in their magical storm.
‘THE GARDEN!’ I hollered. ‘FAST AS YOU CAN!’
The Molar Sisters swatted their wands in my direction, and the tornado of crockery suddenly wrapped itself round me.
Fast as a rocket, I flew straight through the door to the conservatory and hurtled above the rows of Mr Croakum’s flowers, ferns and huge mushrooms in plant pots.
Below me, running this way and that, I saw Tempestra’s pirate crew beating back a gaggle of goblin guards. Most of them had lost their weapons by now and were just hurling gardening tools at each other, but I was pleased to see that it looked like the pirates were winning.
I reached the far end just in time to see Reginald Blink throw a potted cactus at a small running figure dressed in gold, darting through the door to the garden. It was Grogbah! I’d nearly caught up with him.
As the tornado of crockery (with me in the middle of it) whizzed out through the end of the conservatory, the Molar Sisters’ spell instantly vanished and I skidded onto the mound at the centre of the Lawn with plates and cups smashing all around me.
‘Uuuuurgh!’ The Lawn woke up for the second time in twenty-four hours.
‘Sorry,’ I huffed. I felt like I’d just been put through a long spin in a tumble dryer. I dizzily stood up and looked about. There was no way I was going to let the prince escape.
‘You’re standing on my face!’ the Lawn grumbled. ‘GERROFF!’
I wobbled down the mound and headed for the bare patch of mud with the boulder jutting out of it. Please let the door still be closed! PLEASE LET THE DOOR STILL BE CLOSED!
Phew! It was. Prince Grogbah may have made it as far as the garden, but he hadn’t got through into the golden hallway yet and, if I stayed near the boulder, he wouldn’t be able to open the door without dealing with me first.
I squinted my eyes and peered into the towering flower bed, searching for a pumpkin-shaped figure. It was at times like this that I loved having troll blood in my veins. Seeing in the dark was a piece of cake, except the brilliant, glowing petals and leaves that burst out in all directions only made the shadows between them seem even darker.
I couldn’t spot the prince, but I knew he’d probably spotted me. I needed to be ready—
‘GROOOOR!’
I spun round and gasped. Up on the patio, I saw Hoggit struggling and thrashing about as two of Grogbah’s royal guards had lashed ropes round the little dragon’s snout and were pulling him towards the swimming pool.
NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I’m sure you’ve probably guessed by now, but soot-dragons die if they get wet!
I didn’t have a choice. Abandoning my post at the boulder door, I sprinted across the garden and leaped up the patio steps. I don’t think I’d ever been so angry in my life. I could feel Granny Regurgita’s troll rage bubbling up inside by belly.
‘GET AWAY FROM HIM!’ I bellowed. ‘THAT’S MY DRAGON!’
I grabbed the two soldiers by their red topknots and yanked them off the ground. They dropped the ropes and started kicking their stumpy legs.
‘Let go!’ they squeaked. ‘LET GO!’
‘Up here, darling!’ Mrs Dunch shouted. She was clambering up the steps of the water slide. ‘Throw ’em!’
One after another, I swung the goblins into the air.
They arced up over the pool and Berol Dunch batted them with her fishtail with a loud, wet SLAP!
I couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for the goblin guards when they both landed head first in the manure pile by the potting shed, but that’s what you get for messing with Frankie Banister. Haha!
And that was the moment everything went really crazy.
GRUNCHED
Brace yourself: we’ve arrived at the big CLIMACTIC ending of the story. Ready? You sure? Okay, here we go . . .
I pulled the ropes off Hoggit’s snout and bent down to pick him up. The poor little thing was trembling with fear and whimpering quietly.
‘It’s okay, buddy,’ I said, stroking his scaly head. ‘You’re safe now.’
Bundling him under my arm, I stood up to see Grogbah making a run for it across the Lawn.
‘You’ll NEVER get me, you ranciderous peasant!’
As if the magic doors had sensed Grogbah was getting close, they began to creak open.
‘You actually thought a squivelling skrunt like you could defeat a hunksome prince like me?’
The door opened further. In a few seconds, it would be too late.
I was about to jump over the patio wall and try my luck at catching up with Grogbah, when I noticed Hoggit was getting really hot under my arm.
I looked down and saw a fierce glow coming from between his lumpy scales. My little pet began to vibrate and a rumbling sound echoed out through his open mouth.
Then, for the first time ever, Hoggit let rip the most tremendous spray of fire I’d ever seen. It exploded through the air and engulfed the boulder completely.
Grogbah screamed and reeled backwards.
‘What’s going on?’ Mum cried, running out of the conservatory.
‘Hoggit!’ Dad yelled as he joined her.
I couldn’t turn round with Hoggit shooting fire though the air, but I could hear the sounds of the hotel guests and the pirate crew assembling behind me.
‘LOOK AT HIM GO!’ Calamitus shouted. ‘STUPENDOUS!’
‘Keep Hoggit aimed in the right direction, Frankie,’ Mum told me.
‘Melt that boulder!’ said Dad. I could feel he was practically hopping with excitement.
The night air began to fill with a sour burning smell as the boulder started to glow yellow, then purple, and finally white.
‘It’th gonna blow!’ the Molar Sisters wailed together. ‘Thizzle it good and proper, Frankie!’
Grogbah was frozen to the spot with a look of terror on his face. He watched as great globs of molten rock started pouring down the sides of his escape route and splashing on the scorched earth.
‘Hath anyone got any marthmallowth?’ the Molar Sisters continued, as . . .
BLOP! BLUB! GLOOOP! PLOP!
A huge gurgling sound erupted from beneath the boulder and it sank into the ground, oozing back the way it had come in a tremendous lava fl
ow.
There was silence for a moment, until all eyes slowly turned to Grogbah.
The toady little sneak had his mouth hanging open like he was trying to catch flies. Then he glanced up and saw the patio was crowded with guests and goblin pirates and he jolted back to his senses.
‘I . . . I . . .’ Grogbah glared at me. He looked like he was about to be sick with rage. ‘I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL DIRTISH, PUTRID, PUFFY-FACED, SPINE-JANGLED, WEAKLY, COMMONOUS, MUCKSOME, STUUUUUPID HUMANS! BUT I ESPECIALLY HATE YOU!’
One of the goblin guards that Mrs Dunch had whacked across the garden had dropped his sword as he flew through the air. It was sticking up out of the edge of the flower bed, and Grogbah made a lunge for it.
‘I’M GOING TO POKE HOLES IN YOU AND YOUR MANKSOME LITTLE DRAGON AND USE YOU AS A TEA-STRAINER!’ the prince screamed at me.
‘Not so fast.’ Calamitus hopped over the patio wall, down to the Lawn.
‘Ain’t you forgetting something, Prince Grog-Bog?’ said Granny. She lumbered down the patio steps and joined Captain Plank.
The prince sneered at them both.
‘The bristly battle has been fought and won, and now, as is the goblin way, it’s time for punishments,’ Calamitus said.
‘Yes, I know,’ Grogbah hissed. ‘That’s why I’m taking you all as slaves. Form an orderly queue!’
‘You brain-bungled boggit!’ Tempestra pointed her sword at the prince. ‘YOU LOST!’
‘Has she gone mad?’ Grogbah laughed.
‘It’s true,’ said Gladys Potts.
‘We beat your guards,’ Reginald Blink grinned.
‘I might have a few for breakfast in the morning,’ Granny said with a crooked smirk.
‘Oh, yes!’ Madam McCreedie said, patting her stomach greedily. ‘Delicious.’
‘Ooof SQUISH!’ said Ooof.
Prince Grogbah’s face flinched for the tiniest of seconds. The corner of his eye twitched and he started opening and closing his mouth at a rapid pace. I could almost see the cogs whirring inside his tiny brain.
‘L . . . L . . . L . . . LOST?’
‘S’right,’ Calamitus said. ‘You and your army of gruntygawpers have lost. Right now, my crew are taking them onboard the Blistered Barnacle, where they’ll be fed and armed and become salty-eyed sea-donks. The only plunkling left to deal with is YOU!’
‘PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!’ Grogbah wailed. ‘I’M TOO BEAUTIFUL TO DIE!’
Calamitus laughed. ‘Kill you?’ he said. ‘We’re not going to kill you.’
‘You’re not?’ Grogbah smiled with relief.
‘Nope.’ Calamitus walked slowly towards the prince. ‘The thief of the diamond dentures has to pay a far more gut-bunkling price for their terrible crime.’
‘What price?’ Grogbah’s bottom lip started to tremble.
‘Oh, it’s terrible.’ Calamitus leered and clicked his diamond teeth together.
‘But it’s not death?’
‘No.’
‘Phew! At least it’s not that,’ Grogbah said.
‘For stealing the diamond dentures, Prince Grogbah, your sentence is to spend the rest of your miserable days as Chief of Laundry onboard my ship.’
‘WHAT!?’
‘You’ll sew and wash and dry and scrub, and, after a long time at sea, my crew can get VERY SMELLY INDEED!’
‘KILL ME!’ Grogbah howled. ‘PLEASE KILL ME!’
‘Not a chance.’
With that, Grogbah brandished his sword again and started walking slowly backwards. His eyes were the size of dinner plates and he was mumbling gibberish under his breath.
‘There’s nowhere to go, Grogbah,’ Dad said.
The goblin prince was squelching backwards through the flower bed, waggling the sword to and fro.
‘ ’Ere, watch my flowers,’ Mr Croakum grumbled from the crowd.
‘STUFF YOUR STUPID FLOWERS,’ Grogbah spat at him. ‘I’M PRINCE GROGBAH, AND I ALWAYS WIN!’
He backed further and further away from us, swinging his sword about, until he passed into a shadowy spot with a row of thorny-looking spikes above and below it. For a second I couldn’t quite make out what I was looking at, but then I realised . . .
‘GROGBAH!’ I yelled. ‘COME BACK!’
‘NEVER!’
The prince was walking backwards, straight into the open mouth of a snoring, sharp-toothed . . .
‘BORGUNZA!’ Mr Croakum shouted at his sleeping wife.
‘MRS VENUS!’ everyone joined in, but it was too late. Prince Grogbah stepped on the back of her tongue and . . .
Mrs V clamped her teeth shut, swallowed and smacked her lips sleepily.
She slowly raised her enormous head on her stalk-neck and shook her tendrils awake.
‘BLEEUUGH! I’ve got a horrible taste in my mouth,’ she said, yawning. That’s when she noticed the gaggle of guests and staff all standing below her, staring up in shock and surprise. ‘Oooh, I must have nodded off. Has the prince arrived yet?’
WEIRD IS THE NEW NORMAL
Now, come on, admit it. You started this book, thinking, WHAT A LOAD OF OLD CODSWALLOP, and now I bet you’d love to come to stay in The Nothing To See Here Hotel.
No one really knew what to do after we’d watched Grogbah vanish into the thorny jaws of Mrs V, so we all plodded back to the wrecked reception hall and waited for someone to come up with an idea.
Nancy brought everyone mugs of steaming stag beetle tea and we scuffed about in the dust and rubble, looking a bit bamboozled.
It was Granny who finally broke the silence.
‘Right! That’s enough!’ she barked. ‘CLEAR OFF!’
Well, you weren’t expecting her to say something nice, were you?
‘My bunions need their bed and I’m sick of looking at all your pukish faces . . .’
‘Right you are, Mrs Glump,’ Calamitus said, with a grin. ‘This old skrunt is ready to smell the salty sewer air again anyway.’
He shouted orders to his crew, and in no time the Squall Goblins were boarding their ship and conjuring up another magical wave to wash them back down to the water’s edge.
I couldn’t help but feel sad that the hero of my favourite books was leaving before I’d had time to get to know him. I watched as he clacked across the dusty tiles towards the Blistered Barnacle.
Captain Plank took hold of a rope hanging down from the deck above and, just when I thought he was about to climb up and leave, he turned his hollow skeleton eyes on me.
‘Abraham would’ve been splundishly proud of you, m’boy,’ he said, then beckoned me with a bony finger.
I walked over to the pirate captain with my heart pounding in my ears.
‘A small reward, methinks.’ Calamitus yanked a single diamond tooth out of his dentures and dropped it into my hand.
‘Keep it safe,’ he said and winked. Who knew skulls could do that!? ‘You never know when it’ll come in handy.’
With that, he swung up onto the deck, and the last thing I saw of the Squall Goblins was Tempestra and Calamitus waving from the stern of their ship.
And that was that . . .
Mum and Dad set to work with the enchanted mops and brooms, and the Molar Sisters made light work of repairing the walls and staircase with their wands.
Before I knew it, everyone was plodding off to bed, and it was almost as if Prince Grogbah had never visited at all.
Don’t forget what I told you right back at the start. There’s always some kind of MEGA DRAMA happening at The Nothing To See Here Hotel, so that was a pretty average day for most of us.
Storms, and messengers, and ravens, and parties, and exploding boulders, and parades, and skinny-dipping, and plagues of hermit crabs, and criminals, and diamonds, and pirates, and heroes, and skeletons, and curses, and battles, and fireballs, and the odd person getting gobbled up are all just regular stuff for the Banister family.
Here where weird is the new normal . . .
Still fancy coming to stay?
&nb
sp; Steven B is an award-winning children’s writer, actor, voice artist and host of World Book Day’s The Biggest Book Show On Earth. When not typing, twirling about on stage, or being very dramatic on screen, Steven spends his time trying to spot thistlewumps at the bottom the garden and catching dust pooks in jars. His The Wrong Pong series was shortlisted for the prestigious Roald Dahl Funny Prize.
www.stevenbutlerbooks.com
Steven L is an award-winning illustrator based in Brighton, not far from The Nothing To See Here Hotel! As well as designing all of the creatures you have just seen throughout this book, Steven also illustrates the Shifty McGifty and Slippery Sam series and Frank Cottrell Boyce’s fiction titles. When he isn’t drawing giant spiders and geriatric mermaids, Steven loves to eat ice cream on Brighton beach looking out for goblin pirate ships on the horizon.
www.stevenlenton.com
First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
A CBS COMPANY
Text Copyright © Steven Butler 2018
Illustrations Copyright © Steven Lenton 2018
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
All rights reserved.
The right of Steven Butler to be identified as the author of this work and Steven Lenton to be identified as the illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
The Nothing to See Here Hotel Page 7
