Stinkbomb and Ketchup-Face and the Quest for the Magic Porcupine
Page 6
“Yum,” agreed Malcolm the Cat from the front of the stage.
“So,” Harry the Badger cried, “we win!”
CHAPTER 60
IN WHICH
THE EXCITING CLIMAX OF THE STORY ACTUALLY HAPPENS
No, you don’t!” called Stinkbomb, as he, Ketchup-Face, and the rabbit pushed their way to the front.
“Grrr!” growled Harry the Badger. “Yes, we do!” he added, as several of the badgers leapt forward and grabbed them.
“No, you don’t!” insisted Stinkbomb, as the badgers who had grabbed hold of the rabbit let go again, yelping with pain, and began sucking their paws. “We have gone on a quest to Stupidity and brought back this Magic Porcupine to put an end to your evil plans!”
“But . . . that’s not a Magic Porcupine!” said King Toothbrush Weasel from above them. “It’s a . . .”
“Yes, yes, all right!” said the rabbit in a fury, tearing off its spiky coat and flinging it down on the stage.
“Oh,” said King Toothbrush Weasel. “It is a Magic Porcupine after all. I got confused because it was wearing a spiky coat that made it look like a dolphin.”
“Well, whatever it is,” growled Harry the Badger, “it doesn’t have any real magic, so it can’t do anything to stop us.”
“Maybe I can’t,” admitted the rabbit, “but would you like to see some magic tricks anyway?”
“Oooh, yes, please!”
shouted the audience
The badgers looked at each other and shrugged. “Might as well,” said Rolf the Badger.
“Goody!” said Stewart the Badger.
“Right,” said the rabbit. “For my first trick, I need some volunteers. Evil and wicked volunteers. Black-and-white ones, preferably.”
“Us!” said the badgers excitedly.
“Hmmm,” said the rabbit. “Okay.” And it pulled a pack of cards from behind Rolf the Badger’s ear.
“Ooooh!”
went everybody.
“Now,” the rabbit said to the badgers. “Pick a card. Any card. But don’t look at it.”
Each badger took a card and held it facedown. Stinkbomb and Ketchup-Face held their breath, hoping the Clever Plan would work.
“Now,” said the rabbit, “look at your cards.” The badgers did so. Their faces fell.
“Awwwww!” they said.
The rabbit looked suddenly very pleased with itself. “Show everyone your cards,” it said.
“Do we have to?” whined the badgers.
“Yes,” the rabbit said. “You volunteered.”
“All right,” sighed the badgers, and they held up the cards. As if by magic, each was now an identical peach-colored card on which was printed a little picture of a barred window and the words:
“Do we have to?” the badgers asked again.
“Yes, you do, you naughty badgers!” said Ketchup-Face triumphantly, and Stinkbomb added, “So there!”
“Come along,” said a cheerful voice from the crowd. It was Mr. Jolly. “I’ll take you there right now, you little scamps.”
“Be careful they don’t escape,” said Stinkbomb. “It’s just the sort of evil and wicked thing they would do.”
“No chance of that, young master,” Mr. Jolly assured him happily. “I’ll take a couple of the other bus drivers along with me to keep an eye on them. I reckon Mr. Big and Mr. Scary ought to keep them in order. And maybe Mr. Useless.” Then he rubbed his chin. “Actually,” he said confidentially, “maybe I won’t take Mr. Useless. He’s a bit . . . well . . .”
“Is anybody going to get me down from here?” King Toothbrush Weasel snapped.
“That cat food was nice,” said Malcolm the Cat, licking his whiskers and stepping backward. “Ouch,” he added, standing on the spiky coat and leaping off again . . .
. . . only to land, to everyone’s horror, on the pump. With a bang! and a tremendous
wooosh!
the gigantic water rocket shot toward the window—with King Toothbrush Weasel still tied firmly to it.
CHAPTER 61
IN WHICH
ALL ENDS WELL
Eeeeek!” squealed King Toothbrush Weasel, and then everything happened in a blur.
In the instant before the water rocket struck the great window of the warehouse, the glass shattered from the outside. A tall figure dressed in black somersaulted gracefully through it. In a single elegant movement she drew her sword, cut through the ropes that held the king, and seized him in her arms. Turning in the air, she dropped silently down and landed, light as a feather, on the stage.
“OW,” said Malcolm the Cat.
“Oh, sorry,” said Miss Butterworth, looking down and taking her foot off Malcolm the Cat’s tail.
“My hero!” said King Toothbrush Weasel, and fainted. Then he unfainted for a moment, just to say, “Miss Butterworth, I mean; not Malcolm the Cat,” and fainted again.
And so everything ended happily, and as night drew in, joyous and peaceful sounds could be heard all over the tiny kingdom of Great Kerfuffle.
In Stupidity, there was the sound of a slightly sniffly Magic Porcupine being tucked in and having a bedtime story.
In the Loose Pebbles Library, there was the sound of Miss Tibbles making all the badgers put the books back in their correct places before Mr. Jolly and his friends took them back to jail—the badgers, that is, not the books.
In a hedge by the road that runs along the River Yuk, there was the sound of animals watching TV together; a sudden “Whoopee!”; a burst of joyful scampering through the undergrowth; a happy cry of, “I’ve won! I’m rich! I’m rich!”; a crackle of lightning; a squeaky “OW!” and then a thump and a complaint of “Ouch! My toe! Who left that asteroid there?”
And in Loose Pebbles, outside the old deserted warehouse next to the river, the famous Magic Rabbit of Stupidity was giving conjuring lessons to a hammerhead shark, a king, a well-fed army, a Ninja Librarian, a little shopping cart, and a very contented Stinkbomb and Ketchup-Face, who felt that only one more thing could make the evening absolutely perfect.
Then a boat came chugging up the river, and Felicity joyfully cried, “Captain Bonkers!”
“Ah-haar, me sharky!”
Captain Bonkers replied happily. “Would you believe, the whole island ran out of bananas, so I sailed off to get you some more! And on me way back upstream, I picked up a couple of passengers . . .”
Stinkbomb’s and Ketchup-Face’s hearts leapt as they saw two familiar shapes silhouetted in the cabin’s window. And the door began to open.
“mom! DAD!”
cried Stinkbomb.
“Hello, my darlings!” came their mother’s voice from inside the cabin. “Can we come out? Has the story finished yet?”
“Yes!” said Ketchup-Face happily.
“Would YOU like to see a magic trick?”
How to do a Magic Trick
by Ketchup-Face
First you need a volunteer. Parents are good for this sort of thing even if they do tut and sigh and say “Oh all right but be quick ’cause I have to send this email by five o’clock.”
Get the volunteer to pick a card, show it to you, and put it back in the pack.
Point behind them and say, “Gosh! Look at that!” in a gosh-look-at-that kind of voice.
Get your brother to do something really interesting just where you’re pointing, like dancing in a funny way or juggling fruit or teaching a lion to ride a bicycle. If you haven’t got a brother, a king or a librarian will do.
While the volunteer is looking at the interesting something, look through the pack until you find their card.
Stick the card behind their ear without them noticing. If they’ve got sticky-out ears, you might have to use tape or glue or chewing gum. (If you use chewing gum, try not to get it stuck in their hair ’cause if
they find out you’ll get in trouble. If they don’t find out, then the next morning they’ll probably have a pillow stuck to their head.)
Tell your brother to stop doing the interesting thing, even if he’s at the best part.
Pull the card from behind the volunteer’s ear.
Ta-daaaa! It’s their card. Magic!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once more, thanks to all those children from whose games and foolery I’ve magpied bits of this book.
And “hello” to everyone at West Earlham Junior School, where I used to be Patron of Reading, and to all at Minchinhampton Primary, where I’m Patron of Reading now. Don’t know what a Patron of Reading is? Find out at www.patronofreading.co.uk.
JOHN DOUGHERTY was born in Larne, Northern Ireland, and not many years later they made him go to school—an experience he didn’t find entirely enjoyable. Fortunately, the joys of reading helped him through the difficult times. It’s therefore not completely surprising that when he grew up he became first a teacher (the nice sort), and then a writer of stories and poetry to make children giggle. He also writes songs, some of which he performs with First Draft, a band made up of three children’s authors and a bookseller. He now lives in England with his two wonderful children, the original Stinkbomb and Ketchup-Face.
Learn more about John at
www.visitingauthor.com
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