Future Ratboy and the Quest for the Missing Thingy

by Jim Smith

  I Future-Ratboy-zoomed my eyes in on Mr X and did a superhero frown. ‘Hmmm, there’s something fishy going on here,’ I said.

  ‘Mmm, fish!’ said Mr X. ‘I love fish! Not to eat of course. I just like cuddling them!’

  Bunny scratched her nose. ‘What’s got into him?’ she said, looking down at Mr X.

  Mr X smiled up at Bunny. ‘Hello, Mrs Bunny old friend!’ he said. ‘I see you have an itch there. May I scratch it for you?’

  ‘No thank you very much,’ said Bunny, staring at him like he’d gone mad.

  I sat down on the edge of the hover-pavement, my feet in the gutter. Next to me was one of Mayor Goodhair’s new manhole covers. Not that that had anything to do with what was happening right now.

  ‘We have to get Twoface and Not Bird back!’ I said. And I waited to hear Not Bird shout ‘NOT!’

  But there was just silence.

  ‘Ratboy, watch your feet!’ cried Splorg, and I heard a hoovering sort of noise start up a little further down the hover-pavement.

  ‘Here comes a hover-rubbish truck,’ said Mayor Goodhair. On the side of the truck was the number 27. ‘That’ll clear this mess up, at least,’ he sighed.

  I looked around the square. The mayor wasn’t joking. The place looked like a giant vending machine monster had hit it.

  Mayor Goodhair took his cap off and walked up to Mr X, bending over to peer into his eyes. ‘Now look here, Mr X,’ he said. ‘I demand you return my statue immediately!’

  Mr X grinned. ‘Mayor Goodhair, old pal!’ he said, holding out his hand to shake the mayor’s. ‘Fantastic hair as always!’

  ‘Never mind my stupid hair!’ cried the mayor. ‘Show me where the OFF switch is on that monster of yours!’

  Mr X thought for a billisecond. ‘Hmm, can’t remember!’ he grinned.

  ‘Can’t remember?!’ wailed the mayor.

  Bill Aardvark chuckled, his six rows of bright white teeth glistening. ‘Looks like those bonks on the head wiped Mr X’s memory!’ he said.

  ‘You don’t say, Bill,’ said Cecelia Twizzlefrump. ‘Not only that, they seem to have turned him into a goody-goody as well!’

  ‘Well this won’t do at all!’ growled Mayor Goodhair, stomping off in the direction Gozo had gone. ‘You lot keep your eyes on Mr X while I go and get that monster back!’ he shouted over his shoulder.

  Bunny watched the mayor go round the corner, followed by his hover-scissors. She shook her head and turned to us.

  ‘We’re not safe out here with that Bozo thing chomping everything in sight,’ she said. ‘I think we’d better head back to Bunny Deli and work out what to do next, don’t you?’

  AND WE ALL NODDED.

  ‘Mmm, delish!’ smiled Mr X, tucking into his Cheesebleurgher Meal Deal back at Bunny Deli. He’d followed me, Jamjar, Splorg, Wheelie and Bunny there from Shnozville Town Square, being weirdly nice the whole way.

  ‘I still don’t get why HE’s here,’ said Splorg, bits of Cheesebleurgher spluttering over the table towards Mr X.

  ‘Mr X is the only one who knows how Gozo works,’ explained Jamjar. ‘I haven’t puzzled out exactly what’s going on with him yet, but as long as he behaves himself, he can stay.’

  ‘So, how are we gonna get Twoface and Not Bird back?’ I said, keeping one of my Future-Ratboy-eyes on Mr X. I took a bite of my Cheesebleurgher and a hover-screen fizzled to life above our heads.

  ‘This just in . . .’ crackled Cecelia Twizzlefrump’s voice. I looked up and saw her ginormous fake smiles gleaming down at me from the screen. ‘Some HILARIOUS footage of Mr X falling through that sock tree earlier today!’

  ‘Ooh, that blooming Shnozville News,’ grumbled Bunny. ‘Twoface and Not Bird are inside the belly of a monster who’s chomping his way through town and all they can do is play silly videos!’

  The hover-screen cut to a video of Gozo throwing Mr X into the sock tree. ‘OUCH! OOF ! ARGH! EEK!’ he cried again, bouncing off the branches and landing on the pavement.

  ‘Oh come on, Bunny,’ chuckled Mr X. ‘You’ve got to admit it’s pretty funny!’

  I Future-Ratboy-zoomed my eyes in on Mr X – not the real-life one sitting opposite me at the table, but the one on the screen – and noticed something weird. ‘What was that?’ I said.

  ‘What was what?’ asked Splorg, slurping on his cup of cola-flavoured puddle.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘It looked like something fell out of Mr X’s costume . . .’

  Jamjar glanced up at the giant hover-screen. ‘Hey, Cecelia!’ she shouted. ‘Can you replay that footage, but in slow motion?’

  That’s one of the keel things about living in the future – you can talk to the people on TV.

  The screen went fuzzy as the footage rewound. ‘OK, now play in slow-mo!’ said Cecelia Twizzlefrump, and we all watched the clip again, but ten times slower.

  ‘Zoom in on Mr X!’ I shouted, as he fell out of the tree and landed bum-first on the hover-pavement. ‘There!’ I said. ‘See that thing falling out of his hood?’

  Bill Aardvark pressed a button and the screen froze. Sure enough, a tiny little spiky-looking clump of something had landed on the pavement next to Mr X.

  ‘WHAT IN THE NAME OF UNKEELNESS IS THAT?’ bleeped Wheelie, waggling his arm at the screen.

  Bunny clicked two of her millions of fingers. ‘It’s a THINGY!’ she said.

  ‘What’s a THINGY?’ asked Splorg.

  Jamjar pulled her Triangulator out and started tapping its screen. ‘Says here that THINGYS were a popular cereal from way back,’ she said. ‘Apparently they stopped making them after getting complaints they were too spiky.’

  ‘Ooh, they WERE spiky!’ cooed Bunny. ‘But they softened up nicely once you’d put the milk on them. Funny tasting things . . .’

  Mr X stared up at the hover-screen. ‘Not that I ever got the chance to find out!’ he smiled, sadly.

  Splorg scratched his bald blue head. ‘I don’t see what any of this has got to do with us getting Twoface and Not Bird back,’ he said.

  But I just ignored him. There was something about that THINGY thingy that was making my ratty super senses tingle.

  ‘How come you never tried a THINGY, Mr X?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s a long story!’ beamed Mr X, and our noses all drooped, because everybody knows that long stories are . . .

  BORING!

  ‘And that’s the end of my long story!’ smiled Mr X about half an hour later. I don’t know why he was smiling, because it was the saddest story I’ve ever heard.

  ‘I CANNOT BELIEVE MR X AND MAYOR GOODHAIR WERE IN AN ORPHANAGE TOGETHER WHEN THEY WERE KIDS,’ bleeped Wheelie. ‘OR THAT MAYOR GOODHAIR STOLE MR X’S BOWL OF THINGYS EVERY MORNING AND ATE THEM ALL HIMSELF !’

  ‘I can’t believe Mr X took half an hour to tell that story when you just summed it up in two sentences,’ said Jamjar. ‘We could’ve been rescuing Twoface and Not Bird in that time!’

  Splorg nodded. ‘We’ve GOT to get them out of that Gozo’s belly and turn him off before he eats the whole of Shnozville.’

  ‘Don’t you remember though?’ I said. ‘Mr X has forgotten where the OFF switch is!’

  Mr X tapped his hooded head. ‘It’s true,’ he smiled. ‘The old noggin’s not been the same since Gozo chucked me into that sock tree.’

  Jamjar, who’d been sitting quietly tapping on her Triangulator, looked up. ‘There’s still one thing I don’t quite get,’ she said. ‘How did Mr X end up with a THINGY inside his costume?’

  ‘That’s a point,’ I said, turning to Mr X. ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘Search me!’ he grinned, pulling his hood off, and we all screamed.

  ‘Waaahhh! Naked brain!’ cried Splorg, scraping backwards in his chair.

  He was waggling his hand in the direction of Mr X’s head – the top half of which looked like it’d been sliced off, revealing a glistening pink brain inside.

  Mr X patted it and the whole thing jiggled like a jelly. ‘What, this
old thing?’ he chuckled. ‘It’s always been like that! Why do you think I wear a hood?’

  Jamjar peered into Mr X’s open skull. And then she asked the most ridikeelous question I’ve ever heard.

  ‘Mr X, can you remember any incidences in which a THINGY might’ve got lodged inside your head?’ she said.

  Mr X scratched his brain. ‘Don’t think so,’ he said.

  Jamjar’s nose drooped.

  ‘Apart from that one time when Mayor Goodhair was shooting THINGYS at my head through a straw for a whole week . . .’ added Mr X.

  ‘That’s it!’ cried Jamjar, jumping out of her seat.

  ‘WHAT’S WHAT, MA’AM?’ bleeped Wheelie.

  ‘Don’t you see?’ said Jamjar. ‘It wasn’t the bonks on his head that turned Mr X into a goody-goody – it was the THINGY falling out of his brain!’

  ‘Are you saying,’ I asked, ‘that there’s been a THINGY wedged in Mr X’s brain all these years?’

  ‘Exactly!’ grinned Jamjar. ‘And that’s what’s been making him so grumpy!’

  Bunny crossed all ten of her arms. ‘This is all very interestikeels,’ she said, ‘but I don’t see how it gets us any closer to rescuing Twoface and Not Bird.’

  ‘Ah ha, that’s the thing!’ said Jamjar. ‘Now we know how to turn Mr X back into a baddy. All we have to do is get that THINGY back into his brain!’

  ‘And why in the unkeelness would we want to do that?’ squeaked Splorg.

  ‘Because only the old, evil Mr X knows where Gozo’s OFF switch is hidden!’ cried Jamjar.

  ‘Back to Shnozville Town Square to find that THINGY!’ shouted Jamjar, running out of Bunny Deli. ‘Bunny, you stay here – and make sure you have a straw ready!’

  ‘A straw?’ said Bunny, scratching her chin. ‘What in the keelness for?’

  ‘To shoot the THINGY back into Mr X’s brain of course!’ said Jamjar, zooming down the road followed by me, Wheelie, Splorg and Mr X.

  We skidded to a stop in Shnozville Town Square and I spotted the hover-rubbish truck from earlier, disappearing off round a corner.

  The whole square sparkled as if a giant vending machine monster had never even been there.

  ‘Where IS that THINGY?’ I said, forward-rolling over to the sock tree Gozo had thrown Mr X into, and I looked around on the pavement underneath. But I couldn’t see it anywhere.

  Jamjar knocked on her head like it was a front door. ‘Great bowls of cereal!’ she said. ‘It must’ve been hoovered up . . .’

  ‘Follow that hover-rubbish truck!’ cried Splorg, pointing to the corner where the truck had turned off.

  ‘Hee hee, this is fun!’ giggled Mr X, his brains wobbling as he ran.

  ‘OOH, I LIKE THE LOOK OF THIS PLACE!’ bleeped Wheelie when we arrived at the entrance to Shnozville Town Dump. We’d followed the hover-rubbish truck the whole way there.

  I walked through the big metal gates and glanced up at the mountain of rubbish piled up in front of us. There were scratched-up washing machines and crumpled cardboard boxes and loads of other thrown-away things, but mostly the mountain was made up of leaf socks.

  Stacked up in front of the gates was a line of old manhole covers – the ones that’d been replaced last month. ‘HELP YOURSELF !’ said a sign rested up against them.

  ‘Who’d want to help themselves to a boring old manhole cover?’ I mumbled, noticing a queue of hover-rubbish trucks snaking up to the stinking heap, taking it in turns to dump their contents on top.

  ‘Argh, which one is ours?’ cried Splorg. I thought back to the hover-rubbish truck I’d seen in Shnozville Town Square. ‘It’s the one with 27 written on the side!’ I said.

  Wheelie patted me on the head with one of his coily arms. ‘GOOD WORK, MASTER RATBOY, SIR,’ he said. ‘THERE IT IS.’

  And I looked up and spotted our truck – the one with the THINGY inside it – at the front of the queue.

  ‘Quick, before it tips all its rubbish on to the . . .’ I cried, but it was too late. Hover-rubbish truck number 27 had tilted itself backwards, and everything inside was now on top of the mountain.

  Just above the mountain hung a gigantic tube, a bit like a huge see-through straw, that disappeared off into the sky, as far as your eyes could see. ‘What in the keelness is THAT?’ I said, pointing up at it.

  ‘That’s The Great Rubbish Chute,’ said Jamjar. ‘It sucks rubbish out of the dump and spits it into space!’

  ‘Eh?’ I said. ‘Doesn’t that make a bit of a mess up in space?’

  ‘Not at all,’ smiled Jamjar. ‘I’ll explain it to you later. But right now we’ve got to hurry. The Great Rubbish Chute does a giant suck every ten minutes. If we’re not quick, that THINGY will be gone forever!’

  ‘I’m going in!’ I shouted, forward-rolling towards the giant pile.

  ‘Sorry mate, ’fraid I’m gonna ’ave to stop you there,’ boomed a deep voice, and a giant hairy woman wearing a yellow helmet stepped out in front of me and held up her hand. ‘No rummaging allowed.’

  ‘DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE TALKING TO, MA’AM?’ bleeped Wheelie. ‘THAT’S THE SHNOZVILLE SUPERHERO OF THE MONTH!’

  The hairy woman glared down at me and licked her lips. I hadn’t noticed until this point that she had a long curly tail and two pointy teeth like a cat’s. ‘Mmm, giant rat,’ she purred. ‘That’s my favourite, that is . . .’

  I Future-Rat-backed away, smiling nervously. ‘OK, OK, I don’t want any trouble,’ I said, turning to face the gang. ‘Looks like we’re going to have to find another way . . .’

  ‘I HAVE AN IDEA!’ bleeped Wheelie, looking at a line of hover-bin bags queued up against the outside fence of Shnozville Town Dump. Every single one of them was filled to the top with leaf socks, just like outside Dr Smell’s.

  ‘What is it Wheelie?’ asked Mr X.

  Wheelie’s lid flapped open and shut excitedly and we all held our noses to stop the stink going up them.

  ‘I THOUGHT PERHAPS YOU COULD EACH HIDE YOURSELVES INSIDE ONE OF THOSE HOVER-BIN BAGS AND FLOAT UP TO THE RUBBISH MOUNTAIN DISGUISED AS LEAF SOCKS,’ he bleeped. ‘I’LL GO FIRST, SEEING AS I’M A REAL-LIFE BIN!’

  We all looked at each other and smiled. ‘That is the most ridikeelous plan I have ever heard,’ said Jamjar. ‘I love it!’

  ‘Isn’t this cozy!’ grinned Mr X as we squidged ourselves into a hover-bin bag each.

  ‘OFF WE GO, GANG!’ bleeped Wheelie, leading the way.

  Splorg floated next to me, the tip of his great big blue nose sticking out of his hover-bin bag so he could breathe. ‘Hey, I might get myself one of these!’ he grinned. ‘It’s much easier than walking!’

  The big hairy cat woman in the yellow helmet stepped out in front of Wheelie. ‘Wot you got there, mate?’ she grumbled.

  ‘LEAF SOCKS,’ bleeped Wheelie, acting all casual. ‘JUST A FEW TRILLION OF THEM . . .’

  The woman peered past Wheelie at me and the gang, hidden inside our hover-bin bags. ‘Tell me about it,’ she groaned, pointing at the mountain of leaf socks behind him. ‘All right, this lot looks fine, through you go.’

  Wheelie carried on towards the rubbish mountain, and I glanced over at Jamjar. ‘Well that was easier than I thought!’ I giggled.

  We floated round to the back of the mountain and climbed out of the hover-bin bags. ‘How are we EVER going to find that THINGY in this pile of old rubbish?’ whispered Splorg.

  And that was when I heard the whooshy sound.

  ‘Waaahhh!!! The Great Rubbish Chute – it’s started!’ cried Jamjar, her hair getting sucked towards the giant straw.

  Leaf socks and crumpled up cardboard boxes started flying into the tube. ‘There’s the THINGY!’ cried Splorg. ‘I just saw it zoom off up the chute!’

  I looked up and spotted the spiky little thing hurtling towards space. ‘There’s only one thing for it – we’re going to have to follow the THINGY!’ shouted Jamjar, as my feet lifted off the floor.

  Have you ever imagined what it’s like
to be a droplet of lemonade being sucked up a straw towards someone’s mouth? Well that’s how it felt zooming through The Great Rubbish Chute.

  I plopped out the end of it and landed smack on my bum in another pile of rubbish. Except this one was ever so slightly bigger than the one in Shnozville Dump. This one was the size of a planet.

  I looked up and spotted the Earth, spinning far away in the sky, the size of a tennis ball. A long winding tube – The Great Rubbish Chute – snaked all the way from the tennis ball to here.

  ‘Erm, where exactly are we?’ I said.

  ‘We’re sitting on top of the biggest rubbish bin in the known universe!’ said Jamjar.

  ‘OOH, WHAT AN HONOUR,’ bleeped Wheelie.

  I looked at Jamjar, waiting for her to explain what was going on. ‘Remember how I said that The Great Rubbish Chute sucks all the rubbish out of the dump and spits it into space?’ she said.

  I NODDED.

  ‘Well this is where it spits it,’ she said.

  ‘But how come the rubbish isn’t floating around everywhere?’ I asked.

  ‘Because we’re on the Planet Bin!’ she grinned.

  ‘The Planet Bin?’ I said.