Porridge the Tartan Cat and the Unfair Funfair
Page 4
Aye, all was silent.
But not for long.
“OW-WOWW-WOWWW-WOWWWW!”
furry Fangus cried, as he took a ride down the slide – with Nibbles on his tail. (Really on his tail!)
They walloped into the candyfloss machine and sent us all tumbling and grumbling onto the ground. I pawed at ma belly. The vile vial was gone!
It’s stuck to that tartan cat’s tail! wailed furry Fangus. He crouched on four paws, ready to pounce. Give me that back!
Me-gulp!
Luckily, another TOTALLY amazing and SLIGHTLY unbelievable thing happened… The Wee Kiosk That Controlled The Ride dropped from the sky.
KRUMPPPP!
Fangus and Nibbles vanished from view. The kiosk door was wedged into the ground. They were 100% trapped, which was exactly the right amount.
“Caught like two spiders under a cup!” whooped Isla.
Me-phew
I wasn’t ready to celebrate yet. A scarewolf was still holding Isla tight with both paws! Roaring Ross was still a scarewolf with claws!! And I still had to find dozy Dad somewhere outdoors!!!
I looked around for any sign of him, and that’s when I spied with my little eye, Fangus’s big wig on the ground. Something else was beside it. Something beginning with W and ending with E.
It wasn’t a WHALE
or a WAFFLE
or a WARDROBE…
23
Whistle
…It was a WHISTLE, of course. Good job I can speak 643 languages, including Dog-Whistle. Och, I’m sure I can do Scarewolf-Whistle. Here goes.
SCHWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!
Told you!
I set Isla free, then commanded the scarewolves to come to me. Roaring Ross arrived first, wagging his tail. The others shuffled up, weary after such a long night of running around and standing still.
“Thank you, Porridge,” Isla shouted, giving me a huge hug. She looked at Roaring Ross and the scarewolves. “We must find a way to turn them back into humans.”
Me-how?
I meowed, padding around deep in thought and grass that needed cutting.
I accidentally tripped over Fangus’s wig.
“That wig’s fallen off his head,” said Isla. “He’s lost his silly curly locks.”
Her words reminded me that Fangus had said the antidote was ‘surrounded by locks’ and ‘out of reach!’… Maybe it had been hidden high up on his head? Under his wig?
Me-check
Now the wig was on the ground I could easily reach it. I stuck a curious paw inside lots of locks… and batted out a wee plastic bottle, full of a gloopy purple liquid!
Me-yay!
“You’ve found it,” gasped Isla. “Let’s see what it says.”
“It’s definitely Aunty Dot’s antidote,” she said, giving a glug to Roaring Ross and the other scarewolves.
She watched them all hopefully, but saw no sign of any change. “Maybe it’s another of Fangus’s tricks?”
Or maybe it’s taking longer, just to make the story more exciting?
Nothing happened.
Then a bit more nothing happened.
Then suddenly all their scarewolf teeth and hair fell out!
Plinkle-tinkle WHOMPFFF
Next, their sharp claws clattered to the ground and their scarewolf snouts sank out of sight.
Clankle-tankle SKLOOOP
Fourteen round black noses turned back to whatever shape they were before. All noses are different. Like carrots.
SPLINGGGG
“What happened?” yawned Roaring Ross, as if waking up from a dream, except it was real life and he didn’t have his pyjamas on. “Er, why do I have a tail?”
“Fangus changed you into a stinky scarewolf,” explained Isla. “But Porridge found the antidote.”
Roaring Ross suddenly coughed. And his tail fell off. Then it happened to the others too. (But not me.)
Me-phew
Now Ross was just an ordinary boy again, surrounded by ordinary fair-goers. They all chattered excitedly. None of them could really remember what had happened so they made up some stuff, such as zombie pirates and an alien spaceship. And a brave tartan cat – but that bit was true.
Me-hero
Ross and the fair-goers were still picking wolf hair off their clothes when Dad strolled up. He had a sleepy look on his face. And a couple of cobwebs because he had been lying on the bench for so long.
“I had a wee nap,” he yawned. “How long was I asleep?”
About 126 pages.
24
In The Bag
Dad stared in astonishment at the broken, battered FangFair. Odd things were still dropping from the sky. One giant hammer. Three dodgem cars. Five chicken legs.
Mmmm. Chicken.
I took a bite.
Wax!
“Did I miss anything?” asked Dad, a bit bewildered.
“Not much,” replied Ross. “I became a scary wolf or something and found a pongy space rock in the loch.”
“And Porridge and I stopped a plot to stink out the town by Fangus, the FangFair owner,” said Isla.
And I’m going to write a book about how brawsome I was, I meowed. Probably this one.
“What incredible imaginations you have,” chuckled Dad. “Did you really find that long-lost space rock?”
I lifted ma tail and proudly presented the vile vial to Dad. He gave the bottle a wary sniff, then quickly popped it away in his bag.
“Mog-nificent!” he joked, doing his usual dodgy Dad dance. Then he gave us all a hug in the milky moonlight. I gave the milky moonlight a hopeful lick – but it wasn’t milky at all – it tasted of moths.
Me-yuck!
“What’s in the wee kiosk?” asked Dad… as it ran past us ON SIX LEGS!!!
“Just Fangus and Nibbles,” giggled Isla.
The fair-goers chased after it, fed up with Fangus for ruining a funtastic funfair. We watched the wee kiosk zigzag around the loch. As it vanished over a distant hill, my mega-super-well-OK-not-bad ears heard a catty voice say:
Ow-woww-wowww-wowwww! Stop biting ma bahookie! Sit. Heel. Lie Down!
But Nibbles wouldn’t Sit, Heel or Lie Down because she wasn’t a daft dug. She was a big bad wolf who liked chasing cats. And she was delighted to have a happy ending in a storybook for a change.
But it wasn’t quite the end for the twins and their tremendously terrific tartan cat (me again). You still have to read the final chapter of this book, where we find out what happened to the stinky space rock.
Me-whiff
25
The Final Chapter Of This Book, Where We Find Out What Happened To The Stinky Space Rock
The next morning, we gave the stinky space rock to the director of the Tattiebogle Town Museum. Then everyone washed their hands. (It took me twice as long to wash ma paws.) She displayed the lump of Sproutinium in a glass box, protected by laser beams so sensitive they probably cry at soppy movies.
Me-joke
Then we took Gran and Grandad home for lunch. I thought we were getting seafood soup! Instead Mum made us see food soup!
“What’s in it?” asked the twins.
“Everything I could see in the kitchen,” said Mum, who loved experimenting. “Pasta and bananas and spinach and…”
Me-blurrrrgh!
(Och, it wasn’t even fish-flavoured!)
Ross looked at himself in the back of his spoon. “On reflection, I’m glad I’m not a scarewolf any more,” he said. “I had disgusting hair sprouting from my ears and my nose. Do you think Fangus will always be a mitten?”
“It depends if his Aunty Dot makes him another antidote,” replied Isla.
“Well, I’m glad Fangus McFungus didn’t manage to stink out the town,” said Mum. “Scarewolves might have stolen all our precious things.”
“My denarius coin,” said Dad.
“My super-short shortbread recipe,” said Mum.
“My football,” said Ross.
“My goalie gl
oves,” said Isla.
“My microphone,” sang Gran.
“My brawsome bagpipes,” tooted Grandad.
Hmmm. They all forgot to say the most precious thing of all.
My food bowl! (Full of fishy delishy biscuits, of course!)
Me-yum-yum-yum-yum!
I LOVE FISHY BISCUITS.
Copyright
Kelpies is an imprint of Floris Books
First published in 2017 by Floris Books
This eBook edition published in 2017
Text © 2017 Alan Dapré. Illustrations © 2017 Floris Books
Alan Dapré and Yuliya Somina have asserted their rights under the Copyright,
Designs and Patent Act 1988 to be identified as the Author and Illustrator of this Work
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the prior permission of Floris Books, Edinburgh
www.florisbooks.co.uk
British Library CIP data available
ISBN 978–178250–391–0