by Steve Cole
The Chopper came lumbering down below. But he didn’t glance upward, or round and about. He kept crashing onwards through the old, dead vegetation and was soon lost from my sight.
I’d given the jollywobble the slip!
Unable to believe my luck, I held onto my branch like a three-toed sloth in a particularly boring wildlife documentary. The forest was silent now. Where was Verity? Did I dare to climb down and go looking for her? Should I head back to see if Zola was okay?
Forget about the documentary – I was up to my neck in monster movie territory. And I imagined the credits of my personal monster movie might carry a disclaimer:
Suddenly –
The chilling Chopper was back. He pushed out of the dead, crackly trees and stood looking around. I held my breath. To be honest it felt more like my breath was holding me, dead tight around my whole body, so tight I really couldn’t budge.
Maybe he won’t look up and see me, I thought.
The Chopper immediately looked up and saw me. “Chop- Chop!” he called.
“Leave me alone!” I howled.
“” The Chopper raised his axe and swung it. The axe-blade bit deep into the tree. A weird vibration shook through the trunk and I gripped on more tightly. He bashed the bark with the mallet, and it wobbled alarmingly.
I felt the trunk shake a little more with each sharp and wobbly I dangled helplessly high above the forest floor; it was as if the old branch was weighed down with a big Bob fruit – a fruit ripe to be plucked and squished . . .
“Please, noooooooooo!” I yelled. My heart was thumping so hard and fast in my chest it felt more like a motor roaring away inside. I could almost hear the fierce thrum . . .
Then I realised: there was no ‘almost’ about it – deep, whirring thunder was growing louder in my ears.
Looking up, I thought I must be going fruit-loops. A very different kind of chopper had swept into view overhead! Big, rusty and battered like most vehicles in Terra Monstra, a strange helicopter gleamed in the dim bulb-light, its spinning rotors shifting dust from the solid dirt sky.
Suddenly, the copter dipped and tilted to one side, and the spinning rotors sliced through the dead branches of the neighbouring tree. A storm of splinters tore through the air, narrowly missing me . . .
. . . and whacking right into the Chopper! With a wail, he turned and dropped his axe and his mallet, as his butt was peppered with a thousand thorny bullets.
Yelping and hopping about with pain, the Chopper ran blindly into a tree and conked his forehead. He collapsed and banged the back of his head on his own mallet. His head rang like a wobbly bell, and he lay still.
But there was no time for triumph. The tree was ready to fall; the Chopper had done most of his wobbly work, and the gale whipped up by the helicopter was finishing it off . . .
“WHOAAAAAAA!” As the tree and I began to lose the argument with gravity, the helicopter dipped and darted towards us. For a horrid moment, I fell – then grabbed hold of one of the landing skids at the copter’s base. The tree wasn’t so lucky – it hit the ground in an explosion of dust and dead wood, while I dangled above it like an action hero…
. . . for at least three seconds – before I lost my grip on the landing skid and dropped down to earth.
They say a cat always lands on its feet. Good for the cat, stupid show-off! Not being a cat, I landed on my bum in a pile of mud and twigs, while the copter touched down in a small clearing close by.
My heart beat harder as a creepy claw pushed out from the copter’s cockpit – and the owner of that claw soon followed.
I stared at the creature before me.
And who could blame me?
It looked as if a child had fallen in a monster dressing-up box and made several bad decisions. My first thought was that a yellow dinosaur onesie had collided with a giant prawn: there were two floppy tails, two spiky claw-things, one much larger than the other, while the head of the ‘monster’ was lolling to one side. A big eye and a small eye – both orange – fixed on me.
The figure’s rubbery jaws, complete with rubbery teeth, began to flap open and closed. “Er . . . hey, man,” came a surprisingly American-sounding voice. “Where’d you spring from? You’re human, aren’t you? You don’t live in the caves.”
“Er, no,” I agreed.
“And you’re not going to . . .?” He mimed shooting stuff out of his nose.
“Toxic waste? I promise you, I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
“Oh. Well, in that case . . . ” He gave a big rubbery grin. “How about you, man? You down with the boom?”
“I’m . . . down on the ground?”
“Yeah, but are you down with the ?”
“Er, would you like me to be?” I climbed warily to my feet. “What IS the ‘boom’?”
“What’s the boom? Awwww, c’mon, man. The boom is . . .” Rubber-jaws stood there, contemplating. “Uh, actually, I have no idea what the boom is. But I’m down with it, man! See, it’s kind of my catchphrase.”
I was beginning to think I had cracked up. “You . . . have a catchphrase?”
“C’mon, you’re a human, you know this stuff! I’m Alfie Crudzilla, stand-up comedian, see? Or I want to be a stand-up comedian, anyway.” He smiled. “There used to be quite a few monster stand-ups on the upper levels, long time back. Nowadays, monsters are meaner. The laughter kind of stopped. And I say it’s time for a comeback!” He shrugged. “Anyway, all the great comics had a catchphrase. Did you ever catch Honky Tooth-Blammer’s act? He’d always say, What a scream! From his audiences I mean, when he ate them.”
“Right,” I said, glancing around. “Well, thanks for the rescue, but I’ve got a friend to find—”
“Big Jock McDeathsaw, he was another big star. What did he used to say when he came on stage? Priceless, man. So, I’m .” Alfie sighed. “Trouble is, my sisters prefer knock-down to stand-up. So whenever I try to do my act, they knock down my audience. Which normally means, they flatten our mom.”
I laughed despite myself. “Hey, that’s quite funny.”
“I was being serious, man.” Alfie glared at me. “See, Pop and my sisters want me to follow them into the family business of acting tough to get cash out of the monsters round here. Trouble is, I’m no good. They can grow super-big and tall like the real DinoBeast and terrify everybody, and, well, I can’t.”
“Really?” I heard Zola’s voice, and saw her peeping around a branch, while her recovered snakes peeped out from behind a twig just above it. “Good.”
“Zola!” I ran over to join her. “You’re all right?”
“Bit of a headache still.” She looked cross. “The Chopper ignored me. He just wasn’t interested! Honestly, everyone’s a critic!”
“Tell me about it,” Alfie said with feeling. “That jollywobble who was after you. He wrecked my act at The Severed Arm’s Bring-Your-Own-Coffin Talent Night – laughing at the wrong bits, attacking members of the audience with his mallet . . . I was happy to fill his butt with splinters.” He shook his head. “Sheesh, man, I wish I could cheer up these lower levels a little. Make things a bit better, you know? I wish someone would give me the chance.”
“You ever hear of the Humamon Star Jewel?” Zola said brightly.
I frowned. Wasn’t our quest meant to be secret?
“This brilliant old professor told us where it is,” she went on, “and we’re on an artistically-fulfilling quest to fetch it.”
Alfie’s mouth flapped open. “You mean, that old jewel legend is real?”
“Totally! And if you hold that jewel, it will grant your heart’s desires. It’s going to make me a famous artist, so I’ll win the respect of all the gorgons who kicked me out of town!”
“Seriously?” Alfie high-fived her with his big pincer. “That’s down with the , man! Uh, I mean, lady. Uh, gorgon. You think maybe I could help you find it and make a wish too?”
“Well, I’m not sure,” I said. “We should really get going. Thanks for saving m
y life, Alfie, but we’ve got to find our friend Verity.”
“She’s the one with the map of how to find the Star Jewel,” Zola put in.
“Zola,” I hissed, “it’s meant to be a secret!”
“But he’s got a helicopter!” Zola beamed. “He could help us find Verity! We can’t get anywhere without her.”
I had to accept, this was a good point well made.
“Sure, you can ride in the copter with me if you like, see if you can spot her.” Alfie Crudzilla slapped us heartily on the backs. “I won’t charge you . . . but I might try out a few new jokes!”
“Yes, please!” Zola shook hands too (while her snakes gave little bows and curtseys). “It’s always nice to meet a fellow creative type. But what were you even doing in a helicopter when, er, there isn’t that much sky around here?”
“I’m just scaring up the cave dwellers to pay their rent,” Alfie explained. “Since I can’t fight or flatten anybody, my sisters say it’s the only thing I’m good for.” He turned and unfolded a crumpled banner hanging from the rear of the copter; with the vehicle in flight, it clearly trailed out behind. The banner read:
“Interesting,” said Zola, as her snakes sized up the sign. “I like the deliberate use of crude, primitive letters and that rich shade of red.”
“That’s Poppa’s best handwriting,” said Alfie, ushering us into the cramped confines of the copter. “He wrote it in the blood of some dude who couldn’t pay his rent – so I guess it’s actually a poor shade of red. Heh! Get it?”
I grimaced as I sat down in a metal chair. “That’s kind of mean.”
“Don’t sweat it, man – I was just kidding. It’s really squashed berry juice.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “That’s all right then.”
“Berries squashed by someone who couldn’t pay his rent so he got thrown off a building!” Alfie shook a claw. “Boom! I’m down with it! No, no, he wasn’t really thrown off a building.”
“Good,” I said, relieved.
“He had a ten-ton weight dropped on him instead. Or did he? Ha ha! No, he didn’t. Probably! Heh.” Alfie climbed into the pilot’s seat and hit the starter, and the rotors started to turn. “I think you’ll find I’m a natural wit!”
“Wit?” Zola smiled as she sat beside me. “You missed off the ‘T’ at the beginning.”
“Ooh, that gag’s not bad, man! Mind if I use that?”
Alfie’s claws gripped the control stick and the whirlybird soared into the air. My stomach lurched as I looked down on the forest far below. Looking up, I could see that a long way ahead the woods ended, making way for a burnt-orange cliff-face, sinister caves and scrubby open spaces.
“That’s where everyone on this level lives,” said Alfie. “I’d better get flashing the banner so they get their cash ready. My sisters will be visiting them any time now.”
“Hey! I see something moving down there.” Zola pointed out a flash of grey in the dark of the undergrowth. “The Chopper’s back on his feet.”
“And running,” I realised, as we zoomed overhead. “Like he’s chasing after . . . uh-oh!”
There, scampering for her life away from the Chopper, heading for the forest’s edge… was Verity.
“HEY!” I bellowed over the noise of the copter. “Verity, it’s us!” I was 71% glad to find she was okay, 27% alarmed to find she soon might not be, and around 2% airsick. But Verity seemed 100% set on shifting her tail through the trees; despite the racket over her head, she didn’t look up. “I guess she must be in shock.”
Zola gripped my arm with her claws and pointed. “By Hercules’ pants, she’s going to get one.”
I followed her finger, and gasped to see a familiar gang of green gargoyles standing guard at the perimeter of the woods.
Killgrotty and his greenie-gang were back.
I turned to Zola. “Think it’s a coincidence that the Chopper’s driving her towards Killgrotty? Alfie said he’d seen the Chopper at The Severed Arm.”
“Not for a date, or anything,” Alfie said quickly.
“Killgrotty could have stopped off there and recruited that jollywobble to help him get you,” Zola agreed, as her snakes hissed and nodded. “Well, if Verity doesn’t stop running blind soon, his plan will work – she’s going to end up charging right into his arms!”
“He doesn’t look the type you’d wanna hug for long,” said Alfie. “I’ll go in low, see if we can make her snap out of it.”
My tummy turned as Alfie took the copter down sharply. “Whoaaaaaaaa!”
“Relax, man!” Alfie clung to the control stick with both claws. “I’ve only crashed this thing four times, and none of them were fatal. Well, not to me, anyway!”
We almost scraped the skeletal treetops as we passed. Trying not to fall out through the window I shouted down at Verity: “Stop! You’re running straight for—”
I broke off as blasts of sizzling green slime smacked into the helicopter right beside my head. Killgrotty’s guards had opened fire, trying to bring us down.
“Take her up!” I yelled. “We’re under attack!”
A blast of green slop washed over the window, blinding us. “Whoa! We’d better split.” Alfie turned the copter in a tight circle and steered upwards in an erratic zigzag. “Sorry, guys. I tried to help, but I couldn’t.”
I stared at him. “You can’t give up!”
“Course I can. It’s the only thing I’m good at.” He sighed. “Besides, my sisters will hit the roof if I trash another copter.”
“We’ll all hit the roof if you go up too high.” Zola’s snakes were standing on end. “I’m sure we’d make artistic stains, but even so.”
“Hey, I’m meant to be the comedian round here!” Alfie complained – and then he groaned. “Aww, no. Of all the luck! There are my sisters now.”
“Where?” Dizzily, Zola peered out at the caves and wasteland. “I don’t see anyone—EEEK!”
Two huge, prehistoric dinosaur types had shot up from the ground. I could see the resemblance to DinoBeast – for about 0.023 seconds, before I hid my face in my hands and gibbered like a loon.
There was a and a lurch as one of the giant monsters caught the copter’s landing skids in her claws and leered through the slimy windscreen. “What’re you up to, doofus-face?”
“Bob, I think she’s talking to you,” Zola whispered.
“She means Alfie!” I hissed back, as the copter rocked in the monster’s grip. “Look, can’t you zap her with your gorgon glare?”
“I’m an artist, not a painter and decorator!” Zola retorted. “Honestly, I really couldn’t turn massive monster into anything. And anyway, the other one would squash us flat!”
“Uh, hi, sis,” said Alfie. “I just came to tell you . . . there’s this bunch of tough monsters at the west end of the forest and they say they’re taking over our patch cos the Crudzillas are a bunch of wimps.”
I opened my eyes a fraction, just as Big Sis’s eyes narrowed to fiery slits.
“They say ” She turned her head and huge gouts of flame burst from her jaws. “” Releasing the helicopter she lumbered away in the style of a man in a rubber suit trashing a model set for movie cameras – only horribly real.
“Nice one, Alfie!” I clapped him on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to be in Killgrotty’s shoes now.”
“Me neither. Can you imagine how bad his feet must smell?” Alfie grinned. “First rule of stand-up comedy, man – you gotta be fast.”
“Let’s try to grab Verity,” I said. “If we can land long enough to lift her up into the air with us . . .”
We raced past the giant reptilian head of Big Sis One and back over the forest. There was the Chopper, waving his mallet, gaining on Verity who was still running, and drawing closer and closer to Killgrotty and co.
But it was a sure bet that Big Sis One would reach them first.
The greenies looked up as the scary shadow of Big Sis One fell over the forest’s edge. “Try to muscle in on our pa
tch, will ya? ” she roared, trampling trees as she stamped down with her enormous scaly foot. The impact shook Killgrotty and his entire platoon to their knees, and the tremors sent the Chopper and Verity sprawling too. Killgrotty pulled out a bigger weapon from a backpack and blasted jagged green crackles of energy into Big Sis One.
“” She threw back her head with anger, and almost toasted us with a fresh burst of flames from the back of her throat. Alfie yanked hard on the control stick and we swerved from the fire so fast that I almost tumbled out through the window. Zola’s snakes grabbed my top with their little jaws, and, with their owner’s help, managed to hold me back.
Thanks,” I told the gorgon. “I thought I was going to fall!”
“It’s not the fall you have to worry about,” said Alfie, “it’s that sudden stop at the end of it!”
“” thundered Big Sis One. “Give me a claw over here, will ya?”
“Things are going to get messy.” Alfie sent the copter plummeting towards the treetops. “Time to get
My heart was left up in the air as we plunged towards the heavy branches. I screwed up my eyes and tensed my body, ready for a crash landing . . .
But the crash didn’t come. Incredulous, I opened my eyes to find we were hovering above the ground in a small clearing – Alfie must’ve spotted it from the air. Suddenly, a high-speed hamster-thing came haring into sight, on a collision course!
“Verity!” I cried. “Slow down, you’re going to—”
She ran face-first into one of the landing skids. I grabbed hold of a paw before she could slump to the ground, and Zola grabbed hold of me to stop me falling out again.
Then the Chopper burst into the clearing, hot on Verity’s paws, waving his axe.
“Hold on!” Alfie swung the copter round through three hundred and sixty degrees and – – the tail rotor smashed into the Chopper’s back, knocking him to the ground. “How’s for a punchline?”
