The Farmer’s voice trailed off as they passed the living-room window. Inside, the TV was blaring at full volume, showing a soccer game. The room was a mess. Hector was bouncing on a footstool while Fernando stood on the piano stamping on the keys, producing a horrible crash of mangled notes. Raul had his head in a lampshade.
Stiff with rage, the Farmer stared through the window. As Hector’s head swung toward them, the Farmer and Bitzer ducked.
The llamas! It must have been the llamas who wrecked the barn, and now they were wrecking the house too!
Furious, Bitzer woofed. They had to do something. Growling, he pointed to the front door.
The Farmer ran over to the door, and, finding it locked, he threw himself against it. It wouldn’t budge. His gaze fastened on the cat flap. He pointed at it, then at Bitzer.
Bitzer shrank back, shaking his head. He was no cat! The Farmer jabbered louder, stabbing his finger at the cat flap.
Bitzer finally gave a reluctant nod. Humiliated, the sheepdog squeezed himself through the flap.
Still beside himself with rage, the Farmer dropped to his knees to follow Bitzer, but the cat flap swung back, right into the Farmer’s face.
Bitzer paused and frowned as the Farmer took the cat flap in the face. Something was familiar about this situation, but he couldn’t quite put his paw on it.
Then the Farmer crawled through, and the two of them crept down the hallway, each grabbing a weapon along the way, though Bitzer was certain that a rubber spatula and a tennis racket probably wouldn’t be very effective.
The Farmer shushed Bitzer and readied his spatula. Brays of excitement mingled with the sounds of a soccer game in the living room. The llamas were distracted. Step by creeping step, the Farmer tiptoed in.
And stepped on the remote.
The picture on the television screen changed: instead of a decisive goal being scored, a jolly children’s TV-show host was singing “The Wheels on the Bus.”
The llamas, with outraged fury in their eyes, turned toward the intruders who had dared to change the channel.
The broken pointy-finger sign across his knees, Shaun sighed again and glanced toward the Flock. The sheep still had their backs turned to him.
He heard a crash and the tinkle of breaking glass from the direction of the farmhouse. The crash was followed by the muffled sound of the Farmer yelling in fear. Shaun was on his hooves instantly, dashing toward the house.
Only Timmy saw him go.
Moments later, Shaun peered through the cat flap to the hallway beyond, where the Farmer and Bitzer scrambled to escape the charging llamas. The Farmer disappeared up the stairs with Raul close behind him. Loud thumps and bumps came from the floor above when the Farmer threw himself into a wardrobe and slammed the doors behind him.
With a small click, the latch fell into place, locking him in.
Meanwhile, Fernando stalked silently through the kitchen, his head swinging this way and that, his nostrils flaring. Bitzer was hiding somewhere . . . but where?
The llama started checking the kitchen cabinets, and he didn’t get far before he found Bitzer. Squashed into a cabinet like a contortionist, the dog coughed and gave Fernando an embarrassed wave.
Two seconds later, Bitzer flew out the front door with a llama hoof printed on his backside.
Shaun, relieved to find his friend alive, ran over to Bitzer and pulled him into a hug. Holding out a hoof, he bleated an apology. He was sorry about the llamas. Would Bitzer help him get rid of them?
Staggering to his feet, Bitzer folded his arms and tapped a foot. It was all very well bleating “sorry,” but . . .
Shaking his head, Shaun interrupted. He really was sorry.
Suddenly, they heard the sounds of more breaking glass inside the house and the llamas’ laughter. Bitzer covered his mouth in fright. The Farmer was still in danger!
Shaun bleated and held up a hoof. He had a plan.
the Farmer shouted and banged on the walls of his tiny prison. It rocked from side to side as he threw himself against the wooden panels.
With a sudden splintering, the bottom gave way and the wardrobe rose up, revealing the Farmer’s feet. He realized he could now shuffle around the room while still inside the wardrobe.
“Ah-haa-ooooer,” he said in a muffled voice.
The wardrobe immediately crashed into the bed, then a chest of drawers.
Dusk was falling upon Mossy Bottom Farm. Inside the farmhouse, the TV blared. Surrounded by litter and food wrappers and empty bottles, Hector, Raul, and Fernando were sprawled over the sofa, howling at the soccer players on-screen. The llamas were too busy watching the game to notice Shaun and Bitzer outside the window, pulling at the end of a rope.
The sheep and sheepdog heaved. On the roof, the satellite dish shifted.
The llamas blinked at the TV as the picture went fuzzy. Then it cleared.
Shaun and Bitzer pulled at the rope again. This time, the satellite dish came away with a crunch and crashed into a flower bed.
The TV screen turned to static as, outside the window, Shaun dashed away, carrying the dish.
The llamas screamed. What had happened to the soccer game? The window banged open, and Hector’s head appeared; he was peering into the farmyard. He spotted the broken satellite dish in the corner of the yard.
The llamas stalked out the front door, scowling. When they found out who had broken the TV, they would . . .
As one, they turned at the sound of a squeaky wheel.
At that moment, Shaun and Bitzer jumped out from their hiding place. Bitzer shook his bottom at the llamas. Then both he and Shaun made faces before dashing away.
Hector, Raul, and Fernando stared. Their jaws dropped open. Hector gave a strangled bleat. Nobody, but nobody, made fun of llamas — especially little sheep and weird dogs.
Braying angrily, they charged around the corner — and slipped on a trail of shaving cream Bitzer had sprayed onto the ground. Unable to control their sliding hooves, the three llamas hurtled into the back of the open horse trailer.
They hit their heads on the far end, then turned, dazed, and saw Shaun calmly press the button to lower the metal door and trap them inside.
It had worked! Shaun and Bitzer high-fived each other.
But their problems weren’t over yet. Shaun and Bitzer looked up in horror as a wardrobe suddenly burst through the upstairs bedroom window, seesawing precariously on the ledge. They heard muffled shouts — the Farmer was inside!
Bitzer woofed in alarm. With Shaun close behind, he leaped for the farmhouse door, then pounded up the stairs and into the bedroom. Bitzer saw the Farmer’s feet sticking out of the wardrobe, so he grabbed both of them and pulled. Shaun tried to pull on the wardrobe itself.
But with the Farmer inside, it was too heavy. Creaking under the strain, the wardrobe slowly tipped out the window. Wood splintered as the Farmer slid forward, his head breaking through the top panel. With a sharp crack, more wood snapped, and the top panel broke away. Screaming, scrambling at the air and wearing the top panel like a wooden ruff, the Farmer fell toward the ground below with Bitzer desperately clinging to his ankles.
“Aaaaaarrrrrggggh . . . Ooof!”
Hearing all the commotion, the Flock had come to the rescue! Shirley, the biggest sheep, had been pushed to exactly the right spot. The Farmer bounced off her soft fleece and landed on his feet. Bitzer, too, bounced to safety.
The wardrobe hit Shirley and sprang off.
The Farmer blinked, bewildered to be standing in the farmyard, and chuckled to himself. He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but he was safe and, even better, he wasn’t trapped in a wardrobe!
Then the wardrobe fell neatly over his head.
“Bah!” yelled the Farmer, hammering on the inside of the door with his fists.
SLAM!
The sheep looked around, startled by the noise. Timmy’s Mum gave a frightened bleat, pointing with a hoof. The trailer’s door was open.
The ll
amas had escaped!
But Shaun couldn’t see the trailer from the upstairs window. The Flock waved frantically at him, jumping up and down.
He waved back. The Flock must be happy that the llamas were trapped and everyone was safe, he told himself.
Sheep bleated loudly, flapping their hooves in warning. The llamas were free!
Behind Shaun, a floorboard creaked. He turned around slowly.
Hector was standing in the doorway. And he did not look happy.
In fact, Shaun decided, he looked about as unhappy as a llama could possibly look. Hector glared at Shaun.
Shaun blinked back.
Then the llama took a menacing step forward. Shaun ducked to one side, then dived under the bed and slid across the floor as Hector tried to follow. He scrambled out the other side and dashed for the door — but instead ran straight into Raul, who made a grab for him. Shaun leapfrogged over his back and onto the landing. Fernando was waiting by the stairs.
He was trapped!
Then Shaun spotted a cord hanging from the ceiling. He jumped, caught it, and tugged with all his strength. Above, a hatch fell open and a set of ladder steps telescoped out, pinning Fernando’s head to the floor.
Shaun scampered up the ladder to the attic.
At the top, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe. Llamas couldn’t climb. Could they?
Metal clanked behind him: hooves on the ladder’s rungs. Hector’s head slowly rose through the hatch like a periscope, surveying the dim attic.
Shaun held his breath as he hid behind an old box of junk, pressing his back against it. He slid to the side, farther into the corner.
HOOONK!
A horrible, out-of-tune squealing sound filled the attic. Shaun had pushed against a set of old bagpipes that the Farmer had inherited from a Scottish ancestor.
Hector’s head swung around toward the sound, just in time to see Shaun scramble through a skylight onto the roof.
Gulping, Shaun crawled along the ridge at the top of the farmhouse. He felt dizzy from the height. From up here he could see all the way to Mossy Bottom Village, and in the distance was the glow of the big city.
Behind him came a grinding, crashing noise. Hector had forced his head through the roof, knocking off some tiles! The other two llamas quickly followed his example.
Trembling, Shaun edged backward as the llamas dragged the rest of their bodies through the tiles, leaving gaping holes in the roof. Shaun was reminded that llamas had very, very big teeth. The three menacing llamas stalked toward him, dislodged tiles skittering to the edge of the roof and tumbling down below.
Meanwhile, Bitzer and the frightened Flock craned their necks, trying to see what was happening above. A roof tile crashed to the ground, nearly hitting Bitzer, and he backed into the Farmer’s forgotten recycling. Empty bottles rolled across the farmyard.
Timmy picked one up and bleated quietly. When no one listened, he held up the bottle and bleated again — loudly.
Up on the roof, Shaun backed against the chimney.
The llamas were getting closer.
With nowhere else to go, Shaun scrambled up until he perched on top of the chimney. He bleated in fright. Behind him was only empty space and a very long fall. Clenching his teeth, Shaun squeezed his eyes closed, waiting for the end.
Hearing a strangely familiar sound, Shaun opened his eyes. He looked over his shoulder.
It was only Timmy, standing behind him and blowing over the top of a cola bottle.
Shaun blinked and looked over his shoulder again. How was Timmy standing on air?
The llamas were also confused by the sight. For a moment, they stopped and stared. The sound from the bottle was a little like the sound of panpipes, but Timmy could play only one note. Snickering, they brayed: it wasn’t enough. Nice try, but too bad, kid!
A different note sounded, soft and windy like Peruvian pipes, then another and another. The notes turned into a tune as more sheep joined in. Not quite believing what he was seeing, Shaun looked down. Timmy was standing on his mom’s shoulders. She, too, was playing a cola bottle, and below her were Hazel and the Twins, all blowing over the tops of their own bottles. Below them was a pyramid of sheep, all standing on the platform the Farmer used to pick fruit from the highest branches of the apple trees. Every sheep was blowing on a bottle. An eerie, enchanting tune rolled across the fields of Mossy Bottom Farm.
Shaun looked back at the llamas. Raul’s and Fernando’s eyes had glazed over already. Hector fought the music for a little longer. His lip curled in a snarl that seemed to say “Dratted sheep,” then he, too, was mesmerized by the haunting tune. Together, the three hypnotized llamas slid down the roof and fell into the trailer below.
A tear pricking the corner of his eye, Shaun gazed down at his friends in gratitude. On the ground below, Nuts waved up at him from the controls of the tractor. He pulled a lever and the platform moved a little closer to the roof. With a sigh of relief, Shaun stepped onto it.
By the time he reached the ground, the spell of the haunting music was wearing off. Inside the trailer, Hector shook his head. When he looked up, he saw Shaun press the button to close the mechanical door once again; this time, he was also holding a large padlock.
Exhausted, the llamas didn’t even try to escape. They were locked in and set to leave Mossy Bottom Farm at last.
their heads as the music stopped. When the hypnotism cleared, they looked around in horror at a familiar scene. Behind them was a toupee-wearing man holding a hammer. In front of them was a crowd of people.
The auctioneer peered into the crowd with a shrug. Did no one want to buy the llamas?
In the distance, a man laughed.
Peering through the crowd, Shaun spotted the same man who had laughed when the Farmer bought the llamas. A mischievous grin appeared on Shaun’s face. He nudged Bitzer.
A few seconds later, the auctioneer heard a whistle. At the back of the crowd he spotted a chuckling man wearing suspenders. He was waving an arm, its finger pointing to the ceiling.
The auctioneer rapped with his gavel: SOLD!
The man looked around, chuckling, to see which idiot had bought the llamas this time. All he saw was a huge man forcing his way toward him through the crowd. The huge man stopped and loomed over the man in suspenders. The man in suspenders sputtered and turned red, realizing what was happening, but the auctioneer’s payment collectors ignored his protests. Eventually, the man reluctantly dipped into a pocket for his wallet. The payment collector handed him three ropes and left him with Hector, Fernando, and Raul, who immediately tried to make a break for it.
With a growl, the man in suspenders tugged them back.
The llamas blinked.
Their new owner glared at them. This time, they had met their match. Grumbling, he dragged them away.
Just behind where the man had stood, Bitzer waved the pointy-finger sign with a grin. The three llamas had been paid for. Hector, Raul, and Fernando were someone else’s problem now!
Chuckling happily, the Farmer walked over and took the sign off him, waving it in celebration.
At the podium, the auctioneer’s hammer cracked onto wood again. Shaun looked up and saw the beefy collector already making his way toward the Farmer.
Then he looked toward the holding pen.
A huge gray head with beady eyes and a horn glared at him. A deep roar drowned out every sound in the tent.
Shaun grinned. He’d always wanted a rhinoceros as a friend.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
© 2015 Aardman Animations Limited and Studiocanal S.A. 2015. All Rights Reserved. Shaun the Sheep ® and the character ‘Shaun the Sheep’ © and ™ Aardman Animations Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechani
cal, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First U.S electronic edition 2015
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number pending
The illustrations in this book were created digitally.
Candlewick Entertainment
an imprint of
Candlewick Press
99 Dover Street
Somerville, Massachusetts 02144
visit us at www.candlewick.com
The Farmer's Llamas Page 3
