by Jim Smith
Mr X blinked. ‘I am SO sorry gang,’ he said. ‘Did I mention I start sneezing when people tickle me?’
Gozo roared, his mouth opening wide, and I peered up into his horrible face hole, spotting something weird-looking at the back of it.
‘Is that… it can’t be, can it?’
‘WHAT IS IT, SHNOZVILLE SUPERHERO OF THE MONTH?’ bleeped Wheelie, and I pointed into Gozo’s mouth.
‘It’s Gozo’s switch!’ I cried.
The whole gang stared up into Gozo’s mouth. There, at the back of his throat, was a switch. Except this switch didn’t say ON/OFF on it. It said GOOD/BAD.
‘That’s weird,’ I said. ‘A GOOD/BAD switch.’
‘Perhaps when I was designing Gozo I thought it’d be a bit of fun if you could turn him into a goody-goody now and then?’ said Mr X.
‘A bit like you!’ chuckled Splorg.
Jamjar pointed her Triangulator up at Gozo’s mouth. ‘According to these readings, all we have to do is switch the monster to GOOD. Once we’ve done that it should be happy to help us with anything we need.’
‘Then we’ll be able to rescue Twoface and Not Bird!’ smiled Splorg, looking all proud of himself for understanding what Jamjar had said.
‘Oh this is just brilliant,’ groaned the mayor, scratching his cap. ‘How are we supposed to switch the blooming thing to GOOD without getting eaten ourselves?’
‘Hmm, I think that must’ve been my plan!’ giggled Mr X. ‘Ooh, I was a horrible old meany, wasn’t I!’
Gozo shut his mouth and reached down for the giant plastic Cheesebleurgher Meal Deal that was sitting on top of the Bunny Deli building.
‘Sizzling hover-sausages – looks like Gozo’s about to eat my Cheesebleurgher Meal Deal for his pudding!’ cried Bunny.
Mayor Goodhair took his cap off, turned to Bunny and smiled a very unsmiley smile. ‘Would you PLEASE put a sock in it, old lady,’ he snapped. ‘You are not helping me think.’
And that’s when I came up with another one of my brilliant and amazekeel ideas.
‘I’d expect that kind of language from Mayor Goodhair,’ said Bunny, looking disappointed. ‘But not you, Ratboy.’
‘No, put a sock in Gozo’s mouth,’ I cried.
The whole gang, Gozo included, looked at me. ‘WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, SIR, WHAT IN THE NAME OF UNKEELNESS ARE YOU RATTLING ON ABOUT?’ bleeped Wheelie.
I pointed up at Gozo. He was holding the plastic Cheesebleurgher Meal Deal and opening his rectangle-shaped mouth wide. ‘What’s inside that mouth?’ I asked.
‘Gozo’s switch!’ everyone answered.
‘And what do we want to do with it?’ I cried.
‘Turn it to GOOD!’ they all shouted.
I pointed at the hover-pavement, covered in leaf socks.
‘Then pick up a leaf sock and aim it at the switch!’ I cried.
Gozo moved the Cheesebleurgher Meal Deal closer to his mouth. ‘PUD PUDS,’ he boomed.
‘Now!’ I shouted, and Splorg threw a handful of leaf socks towards the giant face hole. The leaf socks flew through the air like, erm . . . socks, and landed in Gozo’s mouth.
‘Close!’ I cried, but the switch was still pointing to BAD.
‘UNGF !’ said Gozo, plonking the Meal Deal back on top of the skyscraper and putting his hand up to his mouth. ‘YUCK!’ he boomed, spitting out a giant globule of chewed-up leaf socks.
The big ball of sock spit hurtled down through the sky and landed splat on top of Mayor Goodhair’s head.
‘Waaah, my hair!’ he cried.
‘More! Throw more!’ I shouted, scooping up another handful of leaf socks and throwing them into Gozo’s mouth.
‘GAAA!!!’ groaned Gozo, his mouth filling up with leaf socks.
‘Aim for the switch!’ I cried.
‘That’s what we’re trying to do!’ shouted Jamjar.
Mr X grabbed an armful and starting to throw too. ‘This is fun!’ he giggled.
You know when you’re watching one of those films where everyone’s throwing handfuls of leaf socks into a giant monster’s mouth, trying to turn a switch to GOOD at the back of it? That’s what was happening now.
‘One more leaf sock left,’ said Jamjar, passing it to me. ‘This is a job for Shnozville Superhero of the Month.’
I took the sock and smiled at Jamjar. ‘Here goes!’ I said, Future-Ratboy-zooming my eyes in on the switch and pulling my arm back.
‘By the power of playing it keel times a millikeels!’ I cried, as I shot my arm forward and let go of the leaf sock.
The leaf sock flew through the air like a, erm . . . sock, and straight into Gozo’s mouth.
‘Good throw!’ cheered Mr X, as I closed my eyes and crossed my ratty fingers.
For a millisecond, all I could hear was the rustle of leaf socks in the trees.
And then there was a click.
I opened my eyes and peered up at Gozo. His three gigantic eyes blinked one after the other, and he opened his mouth.
‘Goodness me, you would not believe the nightmare I’ve just had!’ he chimed.
‘That voice,’ I said. ‘It’s very familikeels.’
‘Ratboy, is that you?’ chimed Gozo, smiling down at me.
‘The Wise Old Vending Machine!’ I gasped, realising whose voice it was. ‘You’re back . . . sort of !’
Gozo looked down at his body and jumped. ‘Waahh, what’s happened to me?’ he yelped.
‘Mr X over there made a few alterations,’ grumbled Mayor Goodhair, scraping leaf sock gunk out of his hair.
‘We can explain everything later, Wise Old Vending Machine,’ said Jamjar. ‘First let’s get Twoface and Not Bird out of you!’
Splorg looked up at The Wise Old Vending Machine’s window belly.
he asked.
‘Good question Splorg,’ said the mayor. ‘Smash the window or something?’
We all gasped. ‘You can’t smash The Wise Old Vending Machine’s window!’ I cried.
Jamjar pointed her Triangulator at the monster’s window belly. ‘That plastic is triple polymer. It’s got a reinforced platinum frame. Mr X sealed it with top-notch epoxy resin,’ she said.
We all turned to Jamjar and did our confused faces. ‘What I’m saying is, we’re never going to get through that window,’ she said.
‘Sorry, gang!’ smiled Mr X, looking guilty.
‘So this was your plan?’ said Mayor Goodhair. ‘To turn Gozo into The Wise Old Vending Machine then stand around scratching your bums, trying to work out what to do next?’
Jamjar nodded, sadly. ‘It’s true, we didn’t exactly think it through properly,’ she said. ‘I blame myself completely.’
‘Ooh, don’t be so hard on yourself, Jamjar,’ said Bunny, giving her a little cuddle. ‘You’re a very clever young lady!’
‘Thanks Bunny,’ said Jamjar. ‘Wise Old Vending Machine, can you help?’
‘I’m sorry Jamjar,’ chimed The Wise Old Vending Machine, ‘but the only way you’re going to get Twoface and Not Bird out of my belly is if you can magic up a giant coin.’
He pointed up at the humungous coin slot next to his window belly.
‘Come on, Mr X,’ said Mayor Goodhair, his hair sticking out in all directions with leaf sock gunk. ‘You built this whole stupid monster all on your own. Surely you can knock up an oversized coin to fit its slot?’
Mr X grinned and knocked on his brain, like it was a front door. ‘I’d love to help you, really I would, he said. ‘But I just don t have the baddy-power for that sort of thing any more.’
We looked at the monster, standing there in the middle of the road outside Bunny Deli, his belly filled with stuff. A line of hover-cars stretched down the street in both directions, beeping their horns.
‘Some birthday this turned out to be,’ said Mayor Goodhair, looking down at his feet. He was standing on one of his Mayor Goodhair manhole covers. ‘At least old Gozo didn’t eat any of my new manhole covers I spose,’ he said.
An
d that’s when I had ANOTHER one of my brilliant and amazekeel ideas. I glanced up at the coin slot next to the monster’s window belly, then down at the Mayor Goodhair manhole cover. ‘I know how to get your statues back!’ I cried.
‘What do you mean, Ratboy?’ asked Bunny.
‘Two words,’ I said, and they all went quiet, waiting to hear my two words.
‘Manhole covers?’ asked Splorg, once I’d said my two words.
‘Manhole covers!’ I grinned. ‘They’re exakeely the right size for that coin slot!’
Everyone looked up at the coin slot next to Gozo’s window belly.
‘Hey, you’re right,’ smiled Jamjar.
‘Wait a billisecond,’ said Mayor Goodhair. ‘I’m not having you going around lifting up all my brand new manhole covers!’
He plonked his fat bum down on top of the one he’d been standing on and crossed his arms.
‘Don’t worry, Mayor Goodhair,’ I said, starting to run all the way back to Shnozville Dump.
‘OOH, IT IS GOOD TO BE BACK HERE AGAIN!’ bleeped Wheelie as we arrived at the gates to Shnozville Dump. ‘WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE EXACTLY, SIR?’
I pointed at the row of old manhole covers with the ‘HELP YOURSELF !’ sign rested up in front of them.
‘Help yourself ?’ chuckled Splorg. ‘Who’d want to help themselves to a boring old manhole cov . . . OHH, I get it.’
I said.
So that’s what everyone did.
You know how you’d expect a manhole cover to be really heavy? Well these ones were hover-manhole covers, so they weren’t heavy at all.
‘Give me a hand would you, Wise Old Vending Machine?’ I said, jumping into his palm once we’d got back to Bunny Deli, all of us carrying about seventeen hover-manhole covers each.
‘Certainly, Ratboy!’ he chimed, lifting me up to his coin slot and I pushed my manhole cover into the hole.
‘Perfect fit!’ I cried, giving the gang a thumbs-up.
‘Now press the button for my statue!’ ordered Mayor Goodhair, but I just ignored him.
The Wise Old Vending Machine lowered me to his giant buttons and I pressed the third one down.
A robot metal arm whirred to life inside his belly, grabbed the Twoface and Not Bird package off the top shelf, and dumped it into the tray underneath.
‘It worked!’ cried Splorg, pushing open the hatch under the monster’s window belly and reaching in. ‘Give me a hand, Wheelie,’ he said, and Wheelie coiled his arm round the package and pulled it out.
‘Ooh Ratboy, you are a clever clogs,’ grinned Bunny. ‘Now, let’s get those two out of that packet!’
‘Air! I need air!’ gasped Twoface as we ripped the plastic open and dragged him out of his mould.
‘NOT!’ squawked Not Bird, zooming out of the packet and fluttering over to my shoulder.
‘Don’t you “NOT!” me, you stupid little fluff ball!’ said Twoface. He turned to me. ‘I don’t know how you put up with him, Ratboy.’
‘Sounds like you two have been having fun!’ giggled Splorg, patting Twoface on the back.
‘Ugh, you don’t even want to know,’ groaned Twoface. ‘He never stopped fidgeting the whole time!’
‘NOT!’ screeched Not Bird, right into my ear, and my ratty little ear hairs vibrated, making me sniggle.
‘So you’re both OK then are you?’ asked Bunny, giving them a hug each.
Twoface peered down at his costume. ‘Looks like I’m still all here,’ he said.
‘NOT!’ squawked Not Bird again, nuzzling his furry little face into my neck.
‘Stop it, Not Bird!’ I giggled. ‘That tickles!’
‘Ahh, isn’t that lovely,’ cooed Mr X, and Twoface did his confused faces.
‘Eh?’ he jumped, stepping backwards. ‘What in the name of unkeelness is HE doing here?’
‘I’ll explain later,’ smiled Jamjar, putting one of her arms round Mr X and another round Twoface. And seeing as she still had three arms left, she put them round me, Splorg and Bunny too.
Mayor Goodhair pulled his phone out and pointed it in our direction. ‘Say “KEEL!”’ he said, and we all smiled as he snapped a photo of the keelest gang of weirdos the future has ever seen.
It was eighteen minutes and four hundred and seventy two seconds later and Jamjar had explained everything to Twoface and Not Bird.
‘Can somebody PLEASE move that monster out of the road?!’ cried a man in a hover-car, beeping his horn, and The Wise Old Vending Machine gave him a wave.
‘I do apologise!’ he chimed, taking a step over to the hover-pavement next to Bunny Deli. ‘There. Not a bad spot,’ he said, plonking his bum down. ‘I think I might set up shop right here!’
Bunny crossed her arms, frowning at The Wise Old Vending Machine, and I smiled a sad smile.
‘I’m really going to miss you lot,’ I said, and the whole gang stopped what they were doing and looked at me.
‘What did you just say?’ said Twoface, and I looked down, trying to work out how to explain it.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but I sort of . . . don’t exactly . . . need to be here any more . . .’
Bunny tilted her eyebrows. ‘What in the blazes are you blathering on about, Ratboy?’ she asked.
I pointed at Mr X. ‘Anyone remember what I promised I’d do once we finally defeated Mr X?’ I asked.
Splorg shot his hand up. ‘Ooh, ooh, I know!’ he said. ‘You said you’d zap yourself back to the olden days!’
Then he put his hand down again, as he realised something.
‘Oh . . . no – wait!’ he said. ‘But you HAVEN’T defeated Mr X – he’s still standing right over there!’
‘That’s true,’ I said. ‘But he’s not exactly causing any trouble, is he?’
Everybody looked over at Mr X. He was helping Mayor Goodhair drag his birthday statue out of Gozo s hatch.
‘So that’s that. I can go home now,’ I said.
Everyone went quiet. Then Jamjar opened her mouth.
‘NOT!’ she shouted, and my superhero eyebrows shot up my ratty forehead.
‘What did you just say?’ I said, copying what Twoface had said eight quadruple-seconds earlier.
‘I won’t let you go, Ratboy!’ said Jamjar, a tear zigzagging down her cheek.
Splorg stepped forward.
‘NOT!’ he shouted.
Then Bunny opened her mouth.
‘NOT!’ she boomed too.
‘NOT!’ giggled Mr X, joining in.
‘NOT!’ cried Twoface, wandering over next to me.
He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘You’re not going home because of me, are you?’ he asked.
‘No . . .’ I said, ruffling the wings on his superhero hood. ‘Well, maybe a little bit!’
‘NOT!’ squawked Not Bird, and we all sniggled.
‘I don’t want to leave you lot – really I don’t,’ I said. ‘I just miss my mum and dad.’
I turned to Not Bird. ‘Not Bird, you don’t have to come if you don t want to. Or you, Wheelie – I know you both love it here.’
‘BUT HOW WILL YOU ZAP YOURSELF BACK WITHOUT ME, SIR?’ bleeped Wheelie.
‘I thought I could use a hover-bin bag?’ I said.
‘NO MASTER OF MINE IS TRAVELLING THROUGH TIME IN A SEE-THROUGH PLASTIC HOVER-BIN BAG,’ bleeped Wheelie.
‘NOT!’ squawked Not Bird, even though I knew he meant the opposite.
Jamjar tapped her Triangulator. ‘There’s a storm due next Flursday,’ she said, sadly.
I put my arm round her. ‘Well then, we’d better make the most of my last week then, hadn’t we?’ I said, my goggles filling up with ratty tears.
I glanced over at Mr X, who was smiling back at us all with a tear in his eye. ‘It almost makes me want to turn back into a baddy,’ he said. ‘I hate to break you guys up!’
Not Bird fluttered over to him and landed on his brain, nestling down like a real-life wig.
‘Don’t you st
ill want to get back at Mayor Goodhair a tiny bit, Mr X?’ asked Splorg. ‘I mean, he did steal your bowl of THINGYS every morning for your WHOLE childhood. That’s a lot of breakfasts!’
‘Nah,’ said Mr X, looking over at Mayor Goodhair, who was standing next to his birthday statue, checking it for scratches. ‘I think I’ve caused him enough trouble for one day!’
‘Hey, that’s a point,’ said Twoface. ‘How’s the mayor gonna get that statue all the way back to Shnozville Town Square?’
Mayor Goodhair smiled. ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ he said. ‘I’ll have this thing back in place in no time!’
He scratched his head again. ‘First things first though, I need a hover-shower. I’ve got to get this leaf sock gunk out of my hair!’
Jamjar pulled the Triangulator out of her pocket and pointed it at the mayor’s hair. ‘Hmmm,’ she said, smiling to herself. ‘I’m not sure that’s going to cut it . . .’
‘What in the unkeelness are you taking about?’ asked the mayor.
‘The cross-pollination of those frondal perambulators with the behemoth’s portal sputum has created an abiding epoxification,’ grinned Jamjar.
