Curse of the Evil Custard

by Alan MacDonald

  ‘Shame to waste it,’ said Tank. ‘Give it here.’

  He piled the apple pie and glowing custard into his own bowl and attacked it, shovelling spoonfuls into his mouth. The others watched in disbelief.

  ‘Not bad,’ grunted Tank, wiping custard from his chin. ‘Tastes a bit …’

  He broke off and let out a belch like a thunderclap.

  His face turned white as his hand flew to cover his mouth.

  The next moment he shot to his feet, knocking over his bowl, and bolted from the dining room.

  Stan stared in surprise. ‘What’s got into him?’ he asked.

  ‘Probably too much apple pie,’ said Miles.

  But Minnie was looking at the bowl Tank had knocked over. Thick blobs of bright yellow custard had spilled out on to the table. They glowed and shimmered like radioactive matter.

  Minnie bent to sniff them. ‘I know the custard’s always bad but this looks weird!’ she said.

  Stan was glad he’d given it a miss, and looking round the hall, he wasn’t the only one. People had either left it on one side or were still eating their main course. Tank seemed to be the only one who’d eaten his dessert.

  ‘Maybe I ought to check on him,’ said Stan.

  He hurried to the boys’ toilets and knocked on the door.

  ‘TANK? You OK?’ he called.

  There was no answer. Stan wondered whether he ought to go in but he didn’t want Tank throwing up over his school shoes. He’d only cleaned them this morning. He tried again.

  ‘Tank? Are you in there?’

  Strange grunts and growls came from the toilets. If Tank was being sick, he was really making a meal of it.

  Miles and Minnie appeared from the dining hall.

  ‘Miss Marbles is coming,’ said Minnie. ‘Is he OK?’

  ‘OOORRRROOW!’howled Tank.

  ‘Probably not, then,’ said Minnie.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ said Miles. ‘Serves him right for being such a greedy pig.’

  Stan wasn’t convinced. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Maybe he ate something bad.’

  ‘Like school dinners?’ said Miles.

  ‘Anyway, it’s no good standing here. You’d better take a look,’ said Minnie.

  ‘ME? Why me?’ protested Stan. ‘We’re not exactly best mates.’

  ‘Well I can’t go in, it’s the boys’ toilets!’ said Minnie.

  Stan stood rubbing his ear, which was tingling violently. (Never a good sign.) Luckily, at that moment, Miss Marbles arrived. ‘I’ve looked in the kitchens; there’s no sign of them,’ she said crossly.

  ‘Who?’ asked Minnie.

  ‘The inspectors, of course, and why are you all standing outside the toilets?’

  Stan briefly explained the situation and that Tank was inside.

  ‘Then we’d better check if he’s all right,’ said Miss Marbles.

  ‘Tank? It’s me, Miss Marbles,’ she called. ‘I’m coming in.’

  In reply there was a loud crash that made the door shake. Miss Marbles had heard enough; she swept in with the others behind her.

  The room was empty. One of the three cubicle doors hung off its hinges, while the other two were shut. Stan looked at the others. He had a really bad feeling about this – his ears were on fire.

  ‘Tank? Are you OK?’ said Miss Marbles.

  No answer.

  Miles edged towards the exit. ‘Maybe we should come back later,’ he suggested.

  Suddenly something burst out of the last cubicle. It was Tank, or at least it had Tank’s face. The rest of him had changed into a giant Blob Thing almost three times their size. His yellow skin dripped and wobbled as if it were made out of ... out of

  Miss Marbles lay face down on the wet floor and let out a moan.

  ‘Are you OK, miss?’ asked Minnie, helping her to sit up.

  ‘Apart from a few broken bones, fine,’ groaned the head teacher.

  Stan looked around the room. Broken glass littered the floor and there was a gaping hole in the wall where Tank had crashed through. Thick blobs of foul-smelling custard dripped down the walls. Miles reached out a finger.

  ‘I wouldn’t touch it!’ warned Stan. ‘We don’t know if it’s safe.’

  ‘Are you sure that was Tank?’ asked Miss Marbles. ‘He looked … well, not himself.’

  Stan had been thinking the same thing. Tank had seemed fine until he started on his dessert, which no one else had eaten.

  ‘It must be the custard,’ said Stan. ‘There’s something funny about it.’

  ‘Well, it’s always been lumpy,’ admitted Miss Marbles.

  ‘It’s not just that,’ said Stan, pointing to the splattered walls. ‘It smells weird and gives off a kind of glow. Whatever’s in it turned Tank into some kind of Incredible Blob Thing.’

  Miss Marbles got gingerly to her feet. ‘Well, there’s nothing for it,’ she sighed. ‘There’s the safety of the other children to consider. I will have to inform the inspectors.’

  ‘Where are they, anyway?’ asked Minnie.

  ‘Good question,’ said Miss Marbles. ‘Just as this happens, they vanish into thin air.’

  She went off in search of the visitors. Minnie stared at the dripping walls.

  ‘I still don’t trust those two,’ she said. ‘Did you notice Pudding was scared of them?’

  ‘He’s scared of everything,’ said Stan. ‘And anyway, the inspectors weren’t here.’

  ‘No,’ replied Minnie. ‘They were in the kitchens, which funnily enough is where the custard came from.’

  Stan’s eyes widened. Minnie had a point. If there was something in the custard, then someone must have put it there. It wasn’t likely to be Mrs Sponge, who was a terrible cook but harmless. He headed out of the door.

  ‘Now where are we going?’ asked Miles, catching up.

  ‘To the kitchens, of course,’ replied Stan. ‘We’ve got to find out what’s going on.’

  They hurried down to the kitchens. On top of the cooker, they found a saucepan sticky with custard, which had dripped down the sides. Stan wrinkled his nose. It gave off the same nasty smell as the stuff on the toilet walls. There was no sign of the two inspectors. Pudding padded around the kitchen, sniffing in corners, then trotted out. A moment later they heard him barking in the corridor.

  ‘What’s up with him?’ asked Miles.

  ‘I think he’s found something,’ said Minnie.

  Pudding began scratching at a metal door.

  ‘What’s kept in here?’ asked Minnie. ‘I’ve never seen it before.’

  ‘Me neither. Better take a look,’ said Stan.

  The door was heavy and padlocked. Once they turned the key, it took two of them to wrench it open. Inside was a giant freezer. It was stocked with chickens, frozen vegetables and two inspectors who’d turned blue in the face.

  Five minutes later the two inspectors were sitting by the warm radiator, wrapped in blankets. Their teeth chattered so violently they could hardly speak.

  ‘You’re the inspectors?’ said Stan. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Y ... y ... yes,’ stammered Miss Miller. ‘S ... s ... someone locked us in ...’

  ‘Did you see who it was?’ asked Minnie.

  Miss Miller nodded. ‘The h … h …’

  ‘Head dinner lady?’ said Minnie.

  ‘Headless ghost?’ said Miles. Stan kicked him.

  ‘N … no, the h... h… head teacher,’ Miss Miller replied.

  Stan looked surprised. Why on earth would Miss Marbles lock the school inspectors in the basement freezer? It didn’t seem like the best way to make a good impression.

  ‘This head teacher, what did she look like?’ asked Minnie.

  Mr Long shook his head. ‘N ... n ... not she,’ he chattered.

  ‘He?’ said Minnie. ‘A little man with a beard?’

  The inspectors both nodded at once.

  ‘I knew it!’ said Minnie, jumping up. ‘It wasn’t Miss Marbles, it was that strange little man we show
ed round the school.’

  Miles was looking confused. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘If these are the real inspectors, then who exactly are the other two?’

  Minnie grabbed a copy of their textbook, The Pocket Guide for Superheroes, from among the cookbooks on the kitchen shelf. She through flicked until she came to the page she was looking for.

  ‘I knew I’d seen him somewhere before!’ she cried.

  THE WORLD’S MOST WANTED

  Description: Bald, bearded, but don’t mention his height.

  Career: Pint-pot evil genius, disqualified from Scientist of the Year awards when it turned out he’d voted for himself – one thousand times.

  Evil Rating: 91

  ‘See? That’s him, Dr Sinister!’ cried Minnie. ‘He’s here in our school, posing as an inspector. I told you!’

  ‘Well, you didn’t mention his name,’ Miles objected.

  ‘Never mind his name,’ said Stan. ‘We’ve got to warn Miss Marbles before it’s too late!’

  They raced upstairs. Whatever evil scheme Dr Sinister had in mind, it certainly wasn’t improving school dinners. They dashed along the corridor and burst into the head’s office, where Miss Marbles sat at her desk. She looked up in surprise.

  ‘The inspectors!’ panted Stan, out of breath.

  Miss Marbles held up her hands. ‘Calm down, I found them; everything’s under control,’ she said. ‘I had a very nice chat with Mr Long. He advised me that the safest course of action was to close the school and send the children home. In fact, they should be getting on the bus now.’

  ‘What bus?’ said Minnie.

  ‘Well, the school bus, of course. What other bus is there?’

  Minnie ran over to the window. Outside the gates sat an old black bus, which looked like it had been rescued from a scrapyard. Children were beginning to climb on board.

  ‘That’s not our school bus!’ said Minnie.

  ‘And they’re not school inspectors either,’ said Stan. ‘We’ve just found the real ones downstairs, locked in a freezer. The man you’ve been talking to is called Dr Sinister.’

  ‘DR SINISTER!!!’ said the head teacher. ‘Who called a doctor?’

  ‘He’s not a real doctor, he’s on the World’s Most Wanted List!’ said Minnie. She showed Miss Marbles the picture they’d found. The head teacher turned pale. She hurried to the window. ‘QUICK!’ she cried. ‘Don’t let them get on the bus!’

  They raced outside, with Pudding joining the chase. But just as they arrived, the bus doors swung shut with a hiss. The vehicle pulled away with Otto at the wheel and their classmates on board. Dr Sinister’s face appeared at the window and he gave them a cheery wave.

  Miss Marbles clutched her head. She’d just allowed a wanted criminal to waltz out of the door, stealing practically every child in the school. It wasn’t going to look too good on their report.

  They stood in silence as the bus sped away and vanished out of sight. Looking round, Stan saw Miss Miller and Mr Long had joined them, wrapped in their blankets. They had witnessed the whole disaster.

  ‘This is terrible. I’m going to phone the police,’ said Miss Marbles.

  ‘There isn’t time,’ said Stan. ‘Let us go after them.’

  ‘YOU?’ Miss Miller marched down the steps. ‘This is a police matter. It’s far too dangerous for children.’

  Minnie shot Miss Marbles a look. ‘You might as well tell them,’ she said.

  The head teacher nodded wearily.

  ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t totally honest on the phone,’ she admitted. ‘Mighty High isn’t quite like other schools. The children we teach are, how can I put it … they’re rather advanced.’

  Mr Long looked puzzled. ‘You mean they do advanced maths?’

  ‘No, I mean they have superpowers,’ replied Miss Marbles. ‘Stan, for instance, has extrasensory ears – they warn him of danger.’

  The two inspectors looked at Stan as if they expected his ears to burst into flames. But there wasn’t time to explain further. This was a job for …

  ‘Our costumes are in the changing rooms, we’d better hurry,’ said Stan.

  ‘Wait, there’s one more thing,’ said Miles. ‘I guess you all know the three ingredients of custard?’

  Stan rolled his eyes. ‘Not really, and we don’t have time,’ he said.

  ‘Milk, sugar and custard powder,’ Miles went on. ‘That’s all you need.’

  ‘SO? What’s your point?’ said Minnie.

  ‘My point is, what’s the one thing you NEVER put in custard?’ asked Miles.

  ‘WHAT?’ cried Stan, losing patience.

  ‘Water,’ replied Miles. ‘You don’t add water to custard because it will make it thin and runny. And if you remember, water was the one thing that scared Tank away.’

  Stan thought back. It was true Tank had reacted to water like a scalded cat.

  Minnie stared. ‘Are you saying we can defeat Evil Custard with WATER?’

  ‘It’s a possibility,’ said Miles. ‘Water could be a kind of antidote, or anti-custard. That’s why we should take some with us.’

  ‘Fine, we will,’ said Stan. ‘But what if your brilliant theory is wrong?’

  ‘Well, in that case it won’t work,’ said Miles shrugging his shoulders.

  Stan shook his head. Miles was one of his best friends but sometimes Stan thought his superpower was driving people up the wall. Right now, though, they had other things to worry about, such as how to track down their kidnapped friends. The bus was long gone but Minnie had found something in the Pocket Guide.

  ‘It says here we need to look for a secret hideout,’ she said.

  ‘If it’s a secret, how do we find it?’ asked Stan.

  ‘That’s the whole point,’ replied Minnie. ‘We’re not looking for a flat or a bungalow. It’ll be somewhere dark and creepy-looking – basically somewhere only a madman would choose. That’s where we’ll find Dr Sinister.’

  They set off with Pudding out in front on the trail of the scent. If the book was right about secret hideouts it probably ruled out the public library.

  After an hour of trawling the streets and stopping at lamp posts, they found themselves in a dirty backstreet with high brick walls on either side.

  Stan shook his head. ‘This is another dead end,’ he sighed. ‘We’re wasting time.’

  Pudding padded off to sniff round a group of dustbins. He looked back at Minnie and barked.

  ‘He’s found something,’ said Minnie.

  ‘Probably something to eat,’ grumbled Miles.

  Minnie climbed on to one of the dustbins so that she could see over the wall.

  ‘I knew it,’ she said. ‘Take a look at this!’

  Stan and Miles climbed up beside her. Over the wall they could see a run-down, deserted factory with broken windows and a sagging roof. The signs made it clear that visitors weren’t welcome.

  ‘A custard factory?’ said Stan.

  ‘It’s perfect.’ Minnie nodded. ‘Just the place for making Evil Custard without attracting attention. And look over there.’

  Parked in a backyard was a shabby black bus, the one that had driven off with their classmates on board.

  Grey clouds gathered in the sky. The factory yard was deserted – but what lay inside? What did Dr Sinister want with a busload of children, and why bring them to a crumbling custard factory? Not for the first time, Stan’s ears warned him they should go back – and not for the first time, he ignored them.

  ‘Well?’ said Minnie. ‘What’s the plan, then, Dangerboy?’

  Stan hadn’t the faintest clue. ‘I guess we sneak in and try not to get caught,’ he said.

  ‘Hope for the best, you mean.’ Minnie grinned. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’

  ‘We could end up like Tank,’ said Miles grimly. ‘Everyone check your weapons.’

  Stan checked his pockets and nodded. He hoped that Miles’s theory about custard proved right – otherwise they’d all be coming to a sticky e
nd.

  The Invincibles crept into the shadowy custard factory. Pudding hung back at the door, because he was scared of the dark.

  Stan’s heart was beating fast. He wished criminals would leave the lights on so you could see where you were going. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could make out tin drums and rusty machinery draped in cobwebs. The roof creaked in the wind.

  ‘There’s nobody here,’ whispered Miles. ‘Well, at least we tried.’

  Stan shook his head and pointed to a doorway leading into the next room. They crept through, then halted in amazement. The room was like some sort of secret laboratory. At the top of a small flight of steps, a bank of controls flickered with lights and dials. Beside it was an enormous vat brimming with custard that seemed to glow in the dark.

  That wasn’t the worst news.

  Dangling above the gloop was a large net containing a dozen of their school friends.

  Stan recognised a few of his class and wondered where the rest were being kept. It was clear that Dr Sinister was planning some ghastly experiment but there was no sign of him – maybe he was on a tea break.

  Stan felt Minnie’s hand on his arm.

  ‘It could be a trap,’ she whispered. ‘Remember what it says in the Pocket Guide?’ Stan shook his head; unfortunately, he hadn’t read that far.