‘And don’t leave chocolate stains in the library books,’ added Big Marge, slinging the poachers over her shoulder and dumping them in the back of the fire truck.
Very Big Sean held out his hand to Gran. ‘And my wife says any time you want to join her and the others at the Country Women’s Association, they’d be pleased to see you. She says that banana cake you sent to the last school fete is good enough to win the State Banana Cake Championships!’
‘Geek?’ said Gran hopefully, shaking Very Big Sean’s hand.
‘Excuse me,’ said Linda in a small voice.
Very Big Sean turned to her. ‘Yes lassie?’ he asked kindly.
‘Do you think you could sort of not see an elephant too?’
‘Elephant?’ said Very Big Sean, smiling. ‘Nope, can’t see any elephant at all!’
Pop held out his trunk and Very Big Sean shook it.
‘We’d be really pleased if you’d join the Bushfire Brigade,’ Big Marge added to Pop. ‘I reckon that trunk of yours could squirt out enough water to put out a fire twenty metres away!’ she added.
‘Huuuruuurrruuuu!’ agreed Pop.
‘But…but Mr Pifflewhiskers, I mean Mr Pootleshanks,’ said TJ. ‘You’re not a local and you work for Customs. Please, please could you not tell anyone about Gran and Pop?”
Mr Pootleshanks smiled at him. ‘I’m going to be a local,’ he said. ‘This is my last job for Customs. I’m resigning and moving to Gobbledegook to marry my fiancée.’
‘Who’s that?’ asked Linda.
‘Why, your Miss Bonanza!’ said Mr Poottleshanks. ‘And I’m doing my Diploma of Education by correspondence so I can work here as a teacher too. A real teacher this time. I reckon with all these new families moving in,’ at this he winked at Pop, ‘the Gobbledegook Central School is going to need another teacher soon. And as for those clowns,’ he indicated the stricken
poachers, bums up in the back of the fire truck, ‘who’d believe them if they said they saw a gorilla and an elephant?’ Mr Pootleshanks shook his head. ‘An elephant and a gorilla way out here? Impossible!’
CHAPTER 17
A Happy Ending with an Elephant and a Gorilla and a Slug too
‘Me want lettuce!’ signed Egbert, from his seat at the dining room table.
TJ passed Egbert the bowl of lettuce.
‘Me want tomato!’ signed Egbert.
TJ passed Egbert the tomatoes too.
‘Me want cucumber and sweet corn and spinach and LOTS of banana with tomato sauce!’ signed Egbert.
‘Anything!’ promised TJ, passing him the sliced bananas and tipping half a bottle of tomato sauce on
them. ‘And if you upchuck in my bed tonight I’ll…I’ll just change the bedclothes.’
‘With pink sheets,’ signed Egbert happily. ‘Me like pink sheets!’ He started to slug his way through the lettuce.
TJ grinned and looked across the table. It was the best party he’d ever seen. There was banana cake and banana pudding and banana cheesecake and banana soufflé and banana chocolate pie, and carrot cake for Pop, because Pop loved carrot cake, and one hundred and sixty-four carrot and lettuce sandwiches for Pop as well, and lots of tomato sauce. It turned out that Pop liked tomato sauce almost as much as Gran.
Next to him Linda helped herself to more banana smoothie and smiled. ‘They look happy, don’t they?’ she said to TJ.
TJ nodded. Through the window he could see Gran and Pop walking hand in trunk through the garden. Baby Jane clung onto Gran’s shoulders and Linda’s baby brother perched on Pop’s broad back. Gran was teaching Pop sign language too.
Somehow TJ knew that Gran and Pop would never be lonely again.
All around the table the Gobbledegook Volunteer Bushfire Brigade tucked into banana scones, banana sandwiches, banana bread, and banana date pudding (with tomato sauce), while in the middle of the floor Linda’s mum and dad entertained them all with with tightrope walking.
TJ sighed and grinned back at Linda. Life was pretty good.
Suddenly a roar came from the front door. ‘Arrrrhooooahaaaaaaaaaaaaahahaaaaaaaaaaaaa!’
Linda looked up, startled. ‘What was that?’ she said.
TJ shrugged. ‘Just Dad. He always yells like that when he comes home. Dad and Mum must be back from their conference,’ he added, as Dad swung along the hall and
through into the dining room from the ropes he’d hung especially from the ceiling. Behind him Mum swung in too, with one hand holding her skirt down.
Thud! Dad landed next to the table. Whump! Mum landed next to him. Mum gazed at the Gobbledegook Volunteer Bushfire Brigade, happily wiping crumbs from their chins; at Linda’s mum and dad doing somersaults on the tightrope; then through the window at Gran playing handies with an elephant out in the garden.
‘TJ…’ Mum began. ‘What on earth…’
‘…has been happening?’ finished Dad.
TJ grinned. ‘Nothing much,’ he said, and passed them some banana cake.
My Auntie Chook the Vampire Chicken
With love to Rory, Emily, Bridget and Tiffany and anyone who wears pink or feathers, chooks included.
J
With love to Sprinkles (I’ve seen your fangs).
S.M.K.
CHAPTER 1
A Vampire’s Happy Birthday
It was a dark and stormy night. Every night was dark and stormy on Vampire Island, which meant that no one ever had to bother listening to the weather forecast. Thunder growled and lightning flashed around the castle.
‘Blood! Blood! I must have blood!’ cried Mum.
Drackie opened the fridge door. ‘What sort? There’s cow’s blood and guinea pig blood…’
Drackie picked up a bottle and sniffed it. ‘There’s some crocodile blood too, but I think it’s gone off. It’s got green furry stuff floating in it.’
‘Keep it for your Auntie Warts,’ said Mum. ‘She loves green furry stuff. The cow’s blood will do.’
Drackie watched as Mum dripped the blood into the bowl of icing sugar and began to mix it. ‘This is going to be the best birthday cake in the world!’ he said.
Mum sighed sentimentally as she spread the icing over the cake. ‘My little vampire is growing up. You’ll be old enough to turn into a bat soon and before your father and I know it you’ll be flying off to a castle of your own.’
‘Yeah, yeah, Mum,’ said Drackie. ‘Dad told me all about how boys start getting hairy and feeling these urges and how it’s all just part of the normal process of turning into a bat etcetera etcetera. Hey, can I lick out the bowl?’
Mum nodded. ‘What do you think? Beetles or snail blood clots around the cake?’
‘Snail clots,’ said Drackie. ‘The beetles will run away before everyone gets here.’
‘Not if we put them on now,’ said Mum. ‘Their feet will get stuck in the icing…Hey, what was that noise? People aren’t arriving already are they?’
Drackie peered out of the castle window. Flaming torches lined the dark driveway leading up to the moat. ‘There’s Auntie Warts flying up the drive. And there’s Cousin Snot and Uncle Blob…’
‘I haven’t even got my best cloak on yet!’ Mum wailed, lifting up her arms. ‘I’d better change.’
PVART!
A small bat fluttered above the kitchen table. ‘I wish we vampires made a softer noise when we changed,’ sighed Mum. ‘PVART! always sounds so rude! Go give Plop a hand will you Drackie, darling?’ piped the bat as it flew out the kitchen door. ‘He left it on top of the fridge.’
‘Sure, Mum,’ said Drackie. He wished he was old enough to turn into a bat too. Soon, he hoped! He picked up Plop’s hand by one finger. It was green and grey and flaky and oozing a bit from the wrist.
‘Plop!’ yelled Drackie.
‘Yes, Master!’ Plop lumbered into the kitchen.
‘Mum said I had to give you a hand,’ said Drackie, trying to ignore Plop’s smell. Plop was the best butler in the world, even if he was a zombie. But he was also six hundred years
old, and as Plop said, after six hundred years you did stink a bit, even if you spent your spare time in the fridge.
‘Thank you, Master!’ said Plop. ‘Me sew it on again after the party.’ He smiled, showing his brown crumbly teeth. ‘And many happy returns, Master!’ he added. ‘What does Master want for his birthday?’
‘Don’t care,’ lied Drackie, crossing his fingers behind his back.
It wasn’t true. There was one present Drackie wanted more than anything in the world. More than a new wart album, or a red velvet cloak, or even a new coffin with a DVD-player in the lid.
But there was no way, he thought, that he was going to get it…
The front door bell rang.
The party had begun!
CHAPTER 2
The Best Present in the World
It was the best dark and stormy night Drackie had ever known.
‘It’s a wonderful party,’ yelled Cousin Snot over the roar of the thunder and the chatter of the entire vampire clan.
Drackie grinned at her. Cousin Snot was three weeks younger than him. She had the longest fangs and the blackest hair and fingernails of any kid on Vampire Island. ‘Plop spent three whole days arranging the spiders’ webs and sprinkling dust on the carpet,’ he told her.
‘Cool!’ said Cousin Snot. ‘Hey, have you started changing into a bat yet?’
‘Not yet,’ said Drackie. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘Me too,’ said Cousin Snot. ‘Hey, how about we try to do it now?’
‘How?’ asked Drackie cautiously. You had to be careful with Cousin Snot’s ideas.
‘Easy! We just jump from the castle balcony! Then we have to change into bats or go splat down below!’
‘Um, maybe later,’ said Drackie, crossing his fingers behind his cloak. ‘Here, have a chocolate blood clot! They’re crunchy!’
‘Thanks. By the way, happy birthday!’
‘Many happy returns from me too.’ A red-headed bat flew down next to Drackie and Cousin Snot.
PVART!
Drackie looked round automatically to see who’d farted, then realised it was just the bat changing into Auntie Warts. ‘What do you want for your birthday?’
‘Oh, nothing special,’ said Drackie, crossing his fingers behind his back again.
‘We didn’t have birthday parties when I was a boy.’ A small grey bat hovered next to them.
PVART!
It was definitely a ruder PVART! than Auntie Warts’s! The small grey bat suddenly changed into Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle Spung. His false fangs were long and yellow and his three strands of grey hair hung down to his waist.
‘When I was a boy we just grabbed a few farm girls on our birthdays and vampirised them,’ complained Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle Spung, ‘Then we…’
‘Times have changed, Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle,’ interrupted Auntie Warts firmly. ‘No one goes around vampirising farm girls now! People just don’t like it. We vampires live by ourselves on Vampire Island and we get our blood from the supermarket. That way no one gets wooden stakes hammered into them while they are sleeping in their coffin. We’re too civilised to vampirise anyone now. And life is a lot safer!’
‘He-he-he,’ cackled Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle Spung. ‘I remember the time I grabbed this peasant girl right out of her bedroom! She was only wearing her…’
‘Drink your nice cat juice before it congeals, Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle!’ said Auntie Warts hurriedly. ‘It’s such a lovely party,’ she added to Drackie. ‘Absolutely everyone is here!’
‘Except for Auntie Chook.’ Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle Spung took out his false fangs and polished the beetle bits off on his cloak.
Drackie stared. He’d thought Mum and Dad had asked everyone on Vampire Island to his party. But he’d never heard of an Auntie Chook. ‘Who’s Auntie Chook?’ he asked.
‘Auntie Chook is the…’ began Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle Spung.
‘Oh, no one,’ said Auntie Warts airily. ‘Come on Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle. Let’s see if there are any of those yummy slug-blood burgers left.’
‘Don’t want slug blood burgers,’ muttered Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle, as Auntie Warts led him away. ‘Want a nice juicy farm girl. You know, they didn’t always scream…’
Drackie turned to Cousin Snot. ‘Have you ever heard of an Auntie Chook?’ he demanded.
Cousin Snot looked thoughtful. ‘Only once,’ she admitted. ‘We got a Christmas card from an Auntie Chook last year. But when I opened it Mum grabbed it and tore it up. It had purple feathers on it,’ she added.
‘Weird,’ said Drackie. ‘What sort of person would have a funny name like Chook? Hey, look, Plop is bringing in the birthday cake! It’s chocolate rat blood,’ he added, ‘with cow’s blood icing!’
‘Plop’s not going to lose his head is he?’ asked Cousin Snot. ‘Remember last time when it fell in the rabbit blood soup? It would make an awful mess if it fell in the icing.’
‘No, Mum made him stitch it on really firmly this time,’ said Drackie, as Plop plodded through the guests, the giant cake held high on his hand. Mum was right, he thought. The soft icing had set around the beetles’ legs so they couldn’t run away, their antennae waved in the air.
‘Happy birthday to you…’ began Nanna Gunk, and the whole clan joined in.
‘Happy birthday to you!’ the vampires chorused.
‘Happy birthday, dear Drackie…and a bloody great birthday to you…’ finished Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle. ‘Well that’s what being a vampire is all about,’ he muttered as Auntie Warts glared at him. ‘Blood! When I was Drackie’s age I’d already vampirised a whale…’
‘Blow the candles out, Drackie!’ said Auntie Warts hurriedly.
Drackie blew.
‘Make a wish!’ yelled Uncle Blot.
Drackie shut his eyes and wished. I wish…I wish…I wish I could have a toad, he thought desperately. A sweet little pet toad of my very own!
Drackie had been fascinated by toads ever since he saw them in a book at school. Other kids at school had vampire puppies or vampire kittens. But Drackie just liked toads.
Drackie opened his eyes. It was no use wishing for a toad!
An ordinary toad would be scared, living in a big cobwebby castle with a family of vampires. And he’d never heard of a vampire toad.
Drackie bit his lip. He’d never even told Mum or Dad how much he wanted a toad. They’d just feel bad when they had to say ‘No.’
If only…if only…if only he could have a toad!
‘Cut the cake!’ cried Cousin Snot.
Drackie cut the cake. The blood-red icing oozed into the dark red cream.
‘Mmmm, delicious,’ said Auntie Warts, as she slurped up some icing.
Mum beamed. ‘It’s the hint of cockroach in the rat blood,’ she said. ‘It makes all the difference. Now, Drackie, time to open your presents!’
Drackie sat at the long table in the ballroom, his presents heaped in front of him.
There was a box of chocolate-covered blood clots from Auntie Warts.
There was a book, One hundred Blood-soaked Nights, with really cool pictures from Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle Spung (except Auntie Warts hid it under her cloak when Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle wasn’t looking).
There was an electric fang brush from Nanna, and a mobile phone shaped like a coffin from Cousin Snot, and a ‘Werewolf Howl’ CD from Plop, and a book called How to Get the Most out of Being a Bat: What Every Young Vampire Should Know from Uncle Blob and…
Under all the other presents…a big black box with a red silk bow.
Drackie looked at the card. It said, ‘To our dear little v
ampire, with love from Mum and Dad.’
Drackie pulled off the bow and opened the box. Inside…was another box…
…and in that was another box…
…and then another…
…and another…
…and another…
‘It’s not going to be a tiny beetle is it?’ he asked, as he unwrapped yet another box.
‘No, it’s not a beetle,’ said Mum grinning.
‘Or bat cuff links?’
‘No,’ said Dad.
Finally Drackie pulled off the last piece of wrapping paper. Inside was a black blanket, with red silk edging.
Drackie tried to sound enthusiastic. ‘Oh, wow, thank you! A new blanket,’ he said. ‘Just what I always wanted!’
‘Huh,’ said Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great Uncle. ‘We didn’t have blankets in our coffins in my day. If I was cold I just used to find a pretty farm girl and…’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Mum quickly. ‘But it’s not a blanket for you, Drackie.’
‘It’s not?’ asked Drackie.
‘No,’ said Dad, his fangs gleaming as he grinned. ‘It’s for…this!’
Dad twirled his cloak and brought out a small brown blob.
‘Croak,’ said the blob, peering round the room with its little dark eyes. ‘Croak.’
‘A toad!’ cried Drackie, as the toad leapt into his arms. It wasn’t slimy at all, or even cold. ‘But…but won’t it be unhappy in a castle full of vampire?’
The toad gazed up at him. A long tongue flashed out and grabbed a fly from Plop’s cheek.
‘Croak,’ said the toad happily. There was a long slurping noise.
Drackie looked down at his toad. Something long and white hung over its lips.
‘Fangs!’ cried Drackie. ‘It’s vampirising the fly!’
‘Of course!’ said Mum as the empty fly shell dropped on the floor. ‘It’s a vampire toad! You don’t think we’d give you an ordinary toad, do you?’
Wonderfully Wacky Families Page 12
