by Alan Nolan
But Sam had run out of the evil factory building, past paddocks, stockades and cages that held a great many animals of all different varieties and breeds, all of them looking underfed and miserable. They started whooping and howling as she scampered past. Sam was closely followed by Stinker, who was holding something black and shiny in his mouth. They raced around a corner and behind some storage sheds. Sam peeped from behind the wall. ‘How do we get out of here, Stinker?’ she asked. ‘All I can see are high walls and electric fences right around this compound!’
‘I have an idea,’ said Stinker in a muffled voice. He tossed the object he had been carrying in his mouth onto the ground. ‘You could always phone for help.’
‘Is that,’ asked Sam in an incredulous voice, ‘Roger Fitzmaurice’s mobile phone?’
‘Yup,’ said Stinker. ‘I bet he won’t be so Jolly when he realises it’s missing!’
‘I could call Ajay! And Nanny Gigg! And Bruno too, I suppose,’ said Sam happily. ‘Oh, but there’s a problem – I can’t punch in the numbers with these paws.’
‘No worries,’ said Stinker. ‘You may not be able to punch in the numbers, but I know a whole troupe of monkeys who can!’
Chapter Thirteen
Duck Rescues Dog!
Ajay, Martha and Abbie flew through the wonky gate and ran up the path to the front door of Clobberstown Lodge. Ajay reached for the doorbell but pulled his hand back – the doorbell, like most of the bits and pieces in Clobberstown Lodge, looked broken.
‘We could try knocking?’ said Martha. But none of them got a chance to put their knuckles into action, because at that moment the door swung open to reveal Nanny Gigg with her mobile phone clamped to her ear, pulling on her coat with her one free hand.
‘AJAY!’ she cried. ‘Sam, luvvy, Ajay’s at the door with Martha and Abbie! Yes, that Martha and Abbie. They’ve all come to help, luvvy! Sit tight, we’ll be there soon!’
Nanny Gigg finished the call and then looked at the three astonished kids, her eyes wide, ‘Sam’s been dog-napped by Roger Fitzmaurice!’
‘Jolly Roger Fitzmaurice?’ said Martha.
‘The dog biscuit king?’ asked Abbie.
‘That’s the one,’ said Nanny Gigg. ‘They’re keeping her in the dog biscuit factory at the other side of Clobberstown. We’ve got to hurry – she says they want to turn her into dog biscuits!’
‘I’ll call my dad,’ said Ajay. ‘He can come around with the taxi!’
‘Why wait for a taxi,’ said Bruno, appearing in the hallway behind Nanny Gigg, ‘when we’ve got our own transport?’ He jingled a set of keys. ‘Come on – Daddy Mike left us a little something in the inventing shed.’
A few minutes later there was a huge KERR-ASSHHHH! as an enormous amphibious vehicle smashed through the garden fence at the back of the house, reducing it to matchwood. The gigantic green ‘duck’ truck had a curved front that looked like the prow of a boat, bright-orange life rings up the sides, and six big wheels. At the steering wheel sat Nanny Gigg, wearing a Sherlock Holmes–style deerstalker hat and a pair of leather-trimmed goggles.
‘I remember when Daddy Mike built this,’ Nanny Gigg shouted back to Ajay, Bruno, Martha and Abbie, who were sitting behind her, ‘he used to drive me up to Glendalough and we’d steer old Big Bertha here into the lake and boat around for a couple of hours fishing for trout. Happy days.’
Ajay shifted in his seat, holding on tight to a little plastic box in his hand and making sure the lid with the air holes didn’t come off.
‘This thing can go in the water?’ asked Abbie.
‘Of course it can!’ shouted Nanny Gigg over the engine noise.
‘It’s a floating-boating monster truck,’ said Bruno. ‘Daddy Mike was a genius, you know.’
Abbie and Martha fluttered their eyelashes at Bruno and giggled. Oh, please, thought Ajay.
Bruno winked at the girls. ‘My old grandpa could invent anything – including this little beauty!’ He held up the Brain Swap 3000. ‘And it’s all charged up and ready to rock and roll!’
Nanny Gigg swung the floating-boating monster truck around onto Clobberstown Road and straight into a traffic jam. ‘Traffic?’ she roared, nearly losing her false teeth. ‘I’m fit to spit!’ She shook her small, wrinkly fist at the tiny blue car blocking Big Bertha’s way. ‘Move it, you doze-bucket!’
The traffic cleared when they turned onto School Road, and it was plain sailing from there to the other side of town. Ajay wondered why so many people were cheering at them and waving as they went, then he realised why: They think we’re a Viking tour!
When they reached the gates of the Jolly Roger Dog Biscuit factory, Nanny Gigg pressed her left foot onto the brake and pulled Big Bertha in alongside the kerb on the other side of the road. They stared over at the factory gates; they were tall and wooden and looked very strong. The walls that surrounded the compound were twenty feet high and topped with sharp-looking barbed wire. A security man with dark glasses and a walkie-talkie stood in front of the gates, staring at Nanny Gigg and the kids in their floating-boating monster truck. He raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth.
‘Time to save Sam,’ said Nanny Gigg quietly. ‘Hold on tight, kids.’
She put her right foot on the accelerator pedal and floored it. The truck’s engine had been idling and ticking away faintly, but now it roared into life with a monstrous VA-VA-VARROOOOOOMMMMMM! Nanny Gigg wrenched the steering wheel around and Big Bertha sprang on its big wheels straight toward the gate.
The security man gaped at the massive truck heading directly for him and immediately dropped the walkie-talkie and dived for safety.
Big Bertha hit the gates at full speed, knocking them off their hinges with a thunderous sound of breaking wood and twisting metal. The truck ran over the fallen gates, marking them with giant rubber tyre marks as it burst into the factory compound. Sirens started to wail with an ARRRRUUUUUGGGA ARRRRUUUUUGGGA sound.
Big Bertha skidded to a full stop just inside the gates, sending up clouds of dust and jerking the kids suddenly forward against their safety belts. Nanny Gigg stood up in the driver’s seat and peered around the factory compound. Where is Sam?
Martha started to ask what they were going to do next, but her words were drowned out by the sudden cacophony of galloping hooves, paws and claws as scores of animals spotted the ruined gates and took their long-awaited opportunity to escape. They hooted, barked and howled for joy as they ran past Big Bertha and through the gates to freedom. Many of the larger beasts were helping the smaller animals, and the monkeys sat on the back of some of the bigger dogs, riding them like jockeys.
When the escaping animals were all through the gates and the noise died down, Nanny Gigg started to shout, ‘Sam! Where are you?’
She was joined by Ajay, who hopped down from Big Bertha holding a little plastic box and whistling, ‘Sam! Here, girl!’
Dogs’ noses may be more sensitive than humans’ noses, but dogs’ ears are in a class of their own – not only can dogs hear much better then humans, their ears are mobile and flexible and can move around like little satellite dishes to seek out and track sounds. So when Sam heard the sound of Ajay’s whistle, her furry ears perked up, followed the sound and – despite Stinker’s protestations – let out a huge HOW-HOW-HOOOOOOOOOO OOWWWWWWLLLLLLL! and ran pell-mell in the direction the whistle came from.
Unfortunately she ran straight into Mr Wilson, who, remembering his school sports days, rugby-tackled her and held her tight by the back legs while Ms Pike attached a chain leash to her collar and quickly slipped a muzzle onto her snout. ‘Sorry, doggy,’ she said apologetically. ‘Nothing personal, I’m just following orders.’
‘Let me go!’ shouted Sam through the wire mesh of her muzzle.
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ said Roger Fitzmaurice, striding towards them and grabbing Sam’s leash from Ms Pike. ‘I don’t care if you’re really a human – you’re MY mutt now.’
Suddenly there was a roar of
engines and a screech of brakes. Roger, Ms Pike, Mr Wilson and Sam found themselves surrounded by a cloud of dust. They also found themselves surrounded by Ajay, Bruno, Martha, Abbie and Nanny Gigg.
‘That’s no mutt,’ bellowed Nanny Gigg at the top of her voice, ‘that’s my granddaughter!’
‘Get back,’ hissed Roger Fitzmaurice, ‘or this cretinous canine goes into the vat.’ He raised his voice. ‘In fact, ALL the animals will go into the vat!’
Sam twisted around on her leash. She slipped her snout out of the muzzle and bit Roger hard on the hand.
He shrieked, dropped the leash and jammed his fist into his mouth. ‘You horrible hound!’ he cried.
‘Bite me!’ shouted Sam and started barking. She was answered by a series of higher-pitched barks that seemed to come from low down near the ground. Stinker appeared from behind a yellow skip, and as he trotted closer to the group they raised their hands to their noses to block out the smell that he brought along with him.
He also brought along with him the huge carthorse that had been tethered to the four-wheel cart. ‘Sam!’ yelled Stinker. ‘I got the monkeys to unhook Old Charlie here from the cart! He says he wants to help!’
Old Charlie started to whinny and bray loudly. Ajay, Nanny Gigg and the gang cheered, while Roger Fitzmaurice and his hench-people backed away with frightened looks on their faces.
‘Bruno!’ shouted Sam. ‘Quick! Brain-swap me with the horse!’
Bruno smiled broadly and raised the Brain Swap 3000. ‘You got it, sis!’
He aimed the device at Sam the dog’s head and pulled the trigger. A sudden rush of wind blew through the yard, followed by a schlorpy, schloooorpy sound, and then a bright beam of blue light shot out of the trumpet end of Daddy Mike’s marvellous invention. Barker hit the floor, then jumped straight back up again and started barking happily. The dog ran to Ajay and licked his hand. Ajay happily petted her. Bruno looked at the readout on the Brain Swap 3000. It read ‘Power: 95%, Contents: 100%’. ‘Woo-hoo!’ whooped Bruno. ‘It worked!’
He spun around and aimed at the horse, pulling the trigger as he did so. The rush of wind was stronger this time and the schlorpy, schloooopy sound was louder. The horse immediately stopped whinnying and turned his massive head towards Roger Fitzmaurice.
‘Fitzmaurice,’ roared Sam, her mind now inhabiting the enormous carthorse, ‘you have mistreated the animals here long enough! You will mistreat them no more! The animals say NEIGH!’ She reared up on her hind legs and Roger Fitzmaurice, dodging her flailing hooves, fell on his backside in the dust.
‘Wilson! Pike!’ he cried. ‘Get that gun!’
Ms Pike and Mr Wilson looked at each other in bewilderment and then, in panic, made a run at Bruno, who was holding the Brain Swap 3000. Green smoke swirled lazily out of its trumpet end. Bruno spotted the hench-people at the last second and threw the gun to Martha, who used her Irish dancing skills to deftly sidestep the pair of ham-fisted hench-people.
Sam neighed loudly and Stinker leapt into Abbie’s arms. Sam boomed out in her deep carthorse voice, ‘Abbie! The dog’s name is Stinker – if you want to displease, just give him a squeeze!’
Abbie, who also had a bullying older brother at home who was a dab hand with an aqua-blaster got the idea straight away. She turned Stinker around so his head was under her armpit and his doggy bottom was facing their foes. Stinker barked three times – ‘Go! Go! Go!’ – and Abbie squeezed down on his doggy tummy with her elbow, like she was attempting to play a particularly smelly set of bagpipes. With an enormous PAAAARRRRRPPPPP noise, a huge cloud of evil gas erupted from the tiny dog’s rear end. Mr Wilson and Ms Pike were immediately stopped in their tracks by the foul, noxious smell and fell to their knees holding their noses.
Roger Fitzmaurice jumped to his feet and, taking out his pirate bandana and wrapping it around his mouth – and, more importantly, his nose – proceeded to round on Martha. ‘If I can’t have the talking dog, I’ll have that extraordinary Brain Swap gun,’ he said to Martha menacingly. ‘Gimme!’
A group of security guards rounded a corner and hastened towards their boss, each holding a walkie-talkie in one hand and using their other hand to hold their noses.
‘Not so fast!’ cried Ajay, opening up the small plastic box he had been carrying with him. ‘Mr Fitzmaurice, or can I call you Jolly Roger? I’d like you to say hello to my little friend, Tadhg … Tadhg the Tarantula!’
‘NO!’ shouted Mr Fitzmaurice. His voice was so high it sounded like he had been sucking on a helium balloon, ‘Don’t you DARE! I HATE spiders!’
Ajay picked up Tadhg from the box and threw him at Mr Fitzmaurice. Tadhg landed on Fitzmaurice’s chest and crawled up towards his face. Mr Fitzmaurice boggled down at the small, hairy, eight-legged creepy-crawly and let out a high-pitched, helium-fuelled SCRREEEEEECH! In a small voice he whispered, ‘Oh, bother,’ then his body went rigid with terror and he fell backwards onto the ground like a freshly chopped tree.
Nanny Gigg looked up at Sam the carthorse. ‘Sam, luvvy,’ she said, winking at her extremely tall granddaughter, ‘maybe it’d be a good idea to become human again, you know, before the security guards arrive?’
Sam winked a big-eyelashed, horsey eye back at her granny. ‘Sounds good to me,’ she said and then turned to Martha. ‘Time to make Roger a bit more Jolly.’
Martha nodded and smiled, then aimed the Brain Swap 3000 at the horse and extracted Sam’s brain. She quickly turned the device on the unmoving figure of Roger Fitzmaurice and fired. Fitzmaurice’s body twitched once where it lay on the ground, and then Roger jumped to his feet. ‘Halt!’ he shouted to the guards, who were just reaching them. ‘Hold your horses!’
‘Do not interfere with these kids or this charming old lady,’ yelled Sam in a commanding Roger Fitzmaurice voice. ‘Sorry for calling you old, Nanny Gigg,’ she whispered to her granny. ‘I’m pretending to be Roger now.’
‘I want all you boys to have a three-week paid holiday, on me, Jolly Roger Fitzmaurice,’ continued Sam, holding up Roger’s finger in a superior fashion. ‘Starting from today!’
The guards looked at one another quizzically and shrugged.
‘But before you go,’ added Sam, ‘I want you to free any of the animals that are still locked up. Got it?’
‘We get it, boss!’ they cried, and, clapping one another on the back, went off happily to locate keys and unlock locks.
Sam turned to where Mr Wilson and Ms Pike lay on the ground. They were still waving their hands in front of their noses, trying to waft away the smell of Stinker’s exceptionally pungent rear-end release. She furrowed Roger’s eyebrows and glared at them. ‘I want you two dog-napping dunces to take this’ – Sam reached into the pocket of Roger’s jacket and produced a wallet stuffed with banknotes – ‘and go on a long, long vacation.’
Sam tossed the wallet to Mr Wilson, who looked into it with his eyes wide. ‘Or perhaps, Ms Pike,’ said Mr Wilson slowly, clearing his throat with a short, strangled cough, ‘instead of a vacation, we could make it a … a honeymoon?’
Ms Pike took the wallet from Mr Wilson and opened it. ‘Oh, Mr Wilson,’ she said, her eyes boggling at the cash – there must have been thousands in there! ‘I thought you’d never ask!’
They both hopped up off the ground and, with a small wave, scuttled off hand in hand out the gates.
‘Now,’ said Sam, wiping Roger Fitzmaurice’s forehead with the pirate bandana, ‘time to go home. Time to be me again.’
Chapter Fourteen
Lucky Dog! And Cat! And Duck! And Ostrich! Etc! Etc!
The morning was sunny and silent, apart from the distant sound of a dog barking. Dust motes circled and danced lazily in the bright beams of sunlight that shone through the bedroom window.
Surrounded by her own comfy pillows, under her own warm duvet, in her own one-size-too-small pyjamas, Sam Hannigan woke up. Out of habit, she lifted her hands to her face. Smooth and hairless, just like it should be. She was just plain old red-
headed, frizzy-haired, freckly-faced Sam once more.
She had enjoyed being herself again for these last few weeks. She had also enjoyed painting and repairing Clobberstown Lodge with the help of her new friends Martha and Abbie, and her oldest and bestest friend, Ajay, and her granny and brother.
The money that had been donated to Doggie Dinners (or Dinners for Dogs) had helped pay for the transformation of Clobberstown Lodge into Hannigan’s Haven, a sanctuary for all animals, large and small, exotic and ordinary.
Ajay and Bruno had counted up the money that Nanny Gigg had stuffed into kitchen presses, bread bins and cookie jars, and they could not believe how much was sent in. People were still sending money in now, mainly thanks to Sam’s triumphant reappearance after her mysterious disappearance. She made the front page of the Clobberstown Bugle again, this time without her dog ‘costume’. Beside her in the photograph was Roger Fitzmaurice, who, having mostly seen the error of his ways, was holding an enormous cheque for an even more enormous amount of money, made out to Hannigan’s Haven. Although Roger had what looked like a smile on his face in the photograph, he did not seem to be entirely jolly – he looked like he was wincing his eyes and grinding his teeth at the same time.
Hannigan’s Haven was now home to over fifty animals – they had dogs, cats, mice, an ostrich, two wallabies and several fish, as well as Charlie, the old carthorse. Stinker was also a permanent guest, as was Barker, who had been ‘donated’ by the Hannigans’ next-door neighbour, Mr Soames, and had become Stinker’s best friend.
The Haven was also a haven for the intrepid troupe of monkeys, who had helped in the great Jolly Roger animal emancipation. Martha and Abbie came arond after school every day to teach them Irish dancing, and they were actually getting pretty good.
