The Smug Pug

by Anna Wilson

  ‘Wh-who are you?’ stammered Mrs Fudge.

  ‘I am Professor Foghorn,’ said the man. ‘But more to the point, who are you? And what have you done with my Mesmerizing Mind Machine? It’s barely recognizable in that state. And I suppose you have made off with my Bubble-Car-Scooter-Mobile as well!’

  18

  The Mesmerizing Mind Machine

  Before anyone could ask exactly what the professor meant by his Mesmerizing Mind Machine or indeed his Bubble-Car-Scooter-Mobile, there was a small noise from one of the inventions.

  It was Penelope, who seemed to have come out of her faint. ‘Excuse me,’ she said quietly, ‘do you think you could let me and Sukie out of these – things?’

  ‘Things?’ barked the professor. ‘THINGS? Madam, I’ll have you know that my Mesmerizing Mind Machine is an extremely important and, until today, top-secret design. I have been in touch with the highest echelons of the world’s governments in developing this idea. In fact, only this morning I was in Russia at the World Convention of Mastermind Geniuses, explaining the concept of Mind-Reading and Its Use in International Spy Rings: I left Tally a note to say I’d gone – in code of course.’ He paused and scratched his head as if he had forgotten what it was he was talking about.

  ‘You see!’ Dash hissed. ‘I TOLD YOU!’

  ‘Told me what?’ Pippa hissed back. ‘I can’t understand a word he’s talking about!’

  The professor’s expression had cleared. ‘Ah yes!’ he shouted, making everyone jump. ‘I came home to do a final trial on my inventions before selling them, only to find they had been dismantled in my absence and my Bubble-Car-Scooter-Mobile had also GONE! There has been some unspeakable thievery going on around here, unless I am much mistaken,’ he finished.

  ‘I – I’m not sure I understand all the words you’ve just said,’ simpered Penelope, ‘but you do seem very cross. Perhaps if you were to get me out of this, er, invention, I could help?’

  Marble Wainwright had chosen that moment to come round too. ‘Help? You? You couldn’t help a person put their pants on—’

  ‘Excuse me!’ protested Penelope.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ said the professor crossly. ‘How can a person have an intelligent conversation around here with all this wittering going on?’ He crossed the room in two long strides and flicked a switch on the machine, which immediately sent Penelope and Marble to sleep!

  Pippa had been about to protest at the machine being switched on again, but could not help sniggering at the way the professor had swiftly silenced Marble Wainwright.

  Now that’s the sort of invention we could definitely do with at Chop ’n’ Chat, she thought.

  The professor whirled back to face Mrs Fudge, Dash and Pippa. ‘So,’ he continued, ‘are you going to tell me how you came to steal my inventions and mess around with them in such an insolent fashion?’

  ‘Grandfather, you shouldn’t be cross with Pippa and Mrs Fudge, you know.’

  ‘Tallulah?’ Pippa breathed, turning to see her friend lurking in the hallway.

  Tallulah was looking very shamefaced indeed, and Smug seemed to be pretending he did not have the faintest idea what was going on. He was wearing his pink helmet though, which the professor immediately snatched from him.

  ‘I will explain everything,’ said Tallulah, ‘but first can we all sit down and have a cup of tea? And I know Grandfather would love one of your scones, Mrs Fudge,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Scones?’ said the professor. He dropped the helmet absent-mindedly and pulled down a pair of spectacles to peer around the room as if he hoped the scones might be hiding somewhere nearby. ‘Scones, you say? Now you’re talking.’ He seemed to have forgotten how angry he had been.

  ‘Er, quite,’ said Mrs Fudge. ‘But what about poor Marble and Penelope?’

  ‘They’ll be all right for now,’ Pippa said hastily. ‘Tea and scones?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said the professor. He rubbed his tummy and licked his lips. Then he reached out and picked up a tub of hair wax and opened his mouth wide as if to take a bite.

  ‘Grandfather!’ Tallulah whisked the pot away. ‘That’s not a scone! You’re wearing the wrong glasses,’ she pointed out. ‘Those are your reading ones.’ And she reached up to pull the correct pair of spectacles out of the professor’s bird’s nest of hair.

  ‘Quite so, quite so,’ said the professor, blinking quickly. ‘Onwards to the tea and scones then!’

  Once everyone had been seated and given refreshments, Tallulah said she would explain.

  ‘I need to apologize to you all,’ she said. She took a deep breath. ‘Including Grandfather.’

  ‘What’s that?’ said the professor, through a mouthful of crumbs.

  Smug rolled his eyes. ‘Go on, Tally,’ he said.

  ‘It is true that Grandfather had been working on a secret mind-reading invention,’ Tallulah began, looking at Pippa and Mrs Fudge. ‘And Smug and I thought we could borrow bits of it while he was away. We were going to bring all the parts back. We just wanted to try out the idea of reading customers’ minds to give them exactly what they wanted. It was wrong of us, we know that now,’ she finished quietly.

  ‘But that was so dangerous!’ Dash protested. ‘To take parts of one machine and mix them with another – it doesn’t take a genius to work that out. And I thought you were a genius,’ he added, sneering at Smug. ‘In any case, we were perfectly all right before you came along, thank you. All you have done is make matters worse for Mrs Fudge, not better.’

  The professor had paused in his munching and was staring at Dash, his mouth wide open, a scone midway to his lips. ‘Excuse me,’ he said eventually. ‘Have I got the wrong glasses on again? I thought I just heard that dachshund speak!’

  ‘You did,’ Pippa and Tallulah chorused.

  There was a long and awkward silence as the professor peered at the two girls through one set of spectacles after the other, while Tallulah’s face went redder and redder and Pippa began to shuffle in her chair.

  ‘Are – are you all right, Professor dear?’ asked Mrs Fudge.

  Tallulah’s grandfather slapped the table, making everyone jump, and shouted, ‘Fascinating!’ He let out a roar of laughter. ‘So you too are conversant with the canine,’ he said, now staring at Pippa and Mrs Fudge in turn.

  ‘Eh?’ said Pippa. This being-at-a-loss-for-words business was becoming quite a habit where Tallulah’s family were concerned.

  ‘He means that you can understand the dogs,’ said Smug.

  ‘I knew that,’ muttered Pippa.

  ‘I didn’t, dear,’ admitted Mrs Fudge.

  ‘But this is marvellous,’ the professor went on. ‘I thought Smug was a one-off. Or rather, that the reason Tallulah and I understood him was due to our highly developed intellects. Most interesting.’ He paused. ‘But this must mean that you, madam, and your – granddaughter, is it? You must be as erudite as we are.’

  ‘No,’ Pippa snapped. ‘I’m not her granddaughter. And you might be a rude whatever-you-said, but I am not, thank you very much—’

  ‘Erudite. It means you must both be really clever,’ Smug translated again. ‘Although, personally, I think that’s a little generous of the professor.’

  ‘Er, if I may continue,’ said the professor. ‘I am extremely impressed with you, Mrs Toffee,’ he said.

  ‘Mrs Fudge, actually,’ said Pippa.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Professor Foghorn sighed impatiently. ‘Your powers of interpretation of the canine mind are proof enough that you can handle one of my inventions. So, I have an idea.’

  ‘Good grief,’ Dash muttered. ‘Do you think you can explain it in plain English?’

  ‘Of course,’ said the professor. ‘You are in need of extra help around the place, which is why my granddaughter and Smug thought they should assist you.’

  ‘Erm, yes,’ said Mrs Fudge, who felt shy after being called ‘really clever’ by a professor.

  ‘And I am in need of some way of showcasing
my Mesmerizing Mind Machine. If I am to sell my idea, I need to prove that it will work . . .’ He paused and looked thoughtful again. ‘And my granddaughter is in need of a friend and a place to go after school and at the weekends when I am busy with my projects . . .’

  Mrs Fudge looked anxious. ‘What are you thinking? Only, it seems to me, without wanting to be rude, your machines have got us into a spot of bother here today.’

  ‘Clearly that is because I was not here to supervise,’ retorted the professor. ‘If Tally and Smug had only consulted me first, I could have ensured that no disasters occurred.’ He tutted. ‘Follow me. I shall put things right immediately.’

  And he strode back into the salon with everyone hot on his heels. He made straight for the machines and circled them, talking to himself and flicking switches and levers, making tiny adjustments to the position of dials and plugging and unplugging various attachments.

  ‘There, that should do it for now,’ he said. And with one final press of a button, he stood back and watched.

  Pippa squeezed her eyes tight shut. ‘I can’t bear to see what happens next,’ she whispered, as she feared yet another catastrophe was about to occur.

  But there were no loud noises, no explosions. Nothing alarming happened at all, other than a very loud yawning sound from Marble and some sleepy little squeaks from Penelope and the dogs.

  ‘Oh my! What a lovely, relaxing pampering session,’ said Penelope, stretching out her arms.

  ‘Yes, I do believe that’s the most wonderful experience I’ve ever had,’ said Marble. ‘These inventions of yours seem to get better and better, Mrs Fudge,’ she added politely. ‘I do hope the machines are staying here for good.’

  ‘Good heavens,’ muttered Dash. ‘Has your machine given Marble a brain transplant, Professor?’

  ‘Oh, can’t you say something complimentary for once?’ growled Smug.

  ‘Not if it means you are staying here for good as well,’ snarled Dash.

  Mrs Fudge patted his head. ‘Now, now,’ she said. ‘I think it’s about time that these little pooches put their differences behind them and agreed to disagree, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh, Mrs F.!’ protested Pippa. ‘Don’t you start talking like a Foghorn! What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean,’ said Mrs Fudge, ‘that it would be nice if we could ALL be friends.’

  It most certainly would, dear madam,’ said the professor, taking Mrs Fudge’s hand and kissing it.

  Tallulah and Pippa exchanged a look of triumph.

  ‘Here’s to happy endings!’ said Pippa, bending down to give Dash a hug.

  ‘If you say so,’ Dash said with a sigh. ‘But just remember,’ he said to Smug, ‘I am still top dog around here.’

  The Bit at the End Where We Say Goodbye

  Well, look at that! We have come to the end – and, as Pippa said, a very happy end it was too. The professor stayed in Crumbly-under-Edge and was true to his word about looking after his machines, so there were no more accidents at Chop ’n’ Chat.

  I should think not. I am a professor, after all.

  Tallulah and Pippa stayed friends forever.

  We did!

  And all the Crumblies stayed loyal to Mrs Fudge forever too. Best of all, even Smug and Dash learned to get along and be friendly.

  If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.

  I think you mean two heads are better than one.

  And they made a promise to Muffles to lead a quieter life and not disturb her snoozes so often.

  Miaoooow!

  In fact, everything turned out so well for the pooch-pampering parlour that you could say everyone felt rather, well, smug about it!

  Speak for yourself!

  Thank you, I was.

  This story was written by a lady called Anna Wilson. She lives in a town which is rather like Crumbly-under-Edge, where there is a hair salon a bit like Mrs Fudge’s: the ladies there are just as lovely as Mrs Fudge (although not as old) and they love to eat cake. Anna has two cats, Jet and Inky, who are quite like Muffles (except they are black), and a pooch called Kenna (who doesn’t actually like being pampered, unless it involves food). She also has three chickens who lay eggs that are perfect for cake-baking. Titch, one of the chickens, quite likes being pampered. Anna is thinking of setting up a Poultry-Pampering Parlour just for her.

  If you would like to find out more about Anna and her books you can visit www.annawilson.co.uk. or you can write to her:

  Anna Wilson

  c/o Macmillan Children’s Books

  20 New Wharf Road

  London

  N1 9RR

  Anna would love to see your pet photos too! But don’t forget to enclose a stamped addressed envelope if you want her to return them to you.

  Books by Anna Wilson

  The Poodle Problem

  The Dotty Dalmatian

  The Smug Pug

  Puppy Love

  Pup Idol

  Puppy Power

  Puppy Party

  Kitten Kaboodle

  Kitten Smitten

  Kitten Cupid

  Monkey Business

  First published 2013 by Macmillan Children’s Books

  This electronic edition published 2013 by Macmillan Children’s Books

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

  Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR

  Basingstoke and Oxford

  Associated companies throughout the world

  www.panmacmillan.com

  ISBN 978-1-4472-1775-6 EPUB

  Text copyright © Anna Wilson 2013

  Illustrations copyright © Clare Elsom 2013

  The right of Anna Wilson and Clare Elsom to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents act 1988.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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