I’m a Chicken, Get Me Out of Here!

by Anna Wilson

  ‘Riiight,’ said the fox doubtfully. ‘It all sounds a bit crazy to me.’

  ‘Well, if you have a better plan—’

  ‘I think it sounds perfect,’ said Titch. ‘And I for one am more than ready to help you get your own back on that girl. Count me in, Ned.’

  After a long battle with the bolt on the hutch to release the fox, the animals made their way as quietly as they could to the kitchen. Titch hopped and flew above the fox and Ned trotted in front. Brian brought up the rear. They had agreed to keep a close eye on the fox; they were not leaving anything to chance where he was concerned.

  ‘I will check the coast is clear,’ said Ned. ‘Fox, you raid the bin – that’s one of your skills, isn’t it? But do it QUIETLY for once. Mrs Peasbody put the bin bag out last night and everything we need is in there. Brian, you’re going to help me with the jelly-making.’

  ‘I – I don’t think I can do that,’ Brian stammered. ‘I have an aversion to getting my paws sticky, and from what you’ve said about this jelly stuff . . .’

  ‘Do you want to live in fear for the rest of your life?’ snapped the fox.

  ‘It’s all I’ve ever known,’ said Brian.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Ned. ‘And now’s our chance to change that.’

  The fox crept round the back of the house to where he knew the bin was. Ned was right; he was a frequent visitor to this area, as he found many a tasty morsel that had been thrown away by the Peasbodys, which would feed his family without him having to go to the bother of hunting.

  Ned had told him what to look for and, sure enough, after dragging a bin bag out and ripping it carefully with his teeth, the fox was quick to extract the discarded jelly moulds and unwanted, unopened packets of jelly. He took each mould out of the rubbish and went back and forth through the still unmended cat flap with them, one by one.

  ‘I didn’t think you would fit through there,’ Ned sneered, as the fox appeared.

  ‘Not all of us have the luxury of being overfed with canned food on demand,’ the fox snapped.

  Brian stifled a snigger and was rewarded by a clip around the ear from Ned.

  ‘Stop it, you two,’ clucked Titch. ‘Time is not on our side. We need to get a move on. Brian, come and help me with this.’

  She and Brian between them managed to pull and push a measuring jug out of a bottom cupboard.

  ‘Next we need to bite the jelly into cubes,’ said Ned. ‘Brian, I think you would be perfect for that job. You are always nibbling, after all; those teeth of yours can be put to good use for once.’

  ‘Urgh, no, no!’ the guinea pig protested. ‘I can’t touch that stuff. It will get stuck in my fur and I shall never get it out of my beautiful rosettes. I can see why the Terror doesn’t like it.’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ cried Ned. ‘Don’t you ever stop whining?’ He gnawed off a corner of some orange jelly himself and shoved it crossly into Brian’s mouth. ‘Maybe that’ll stop you,’ he muttered.

  Brian looked stunned. He paused for a second as if unsure whether to spit out the cube or swallow it down. The decision was made for him when Titch chose that moment to grab him and lift him up on to the work surface to get on with the job in hand.

  Brian swallowed. And then something very strange happened.

  The little guinea pig’s eyes began to bulge out of his head and he gave an enormous quiver as though someone had poured a bucket of iced water over him. Then, just as Ned pushed a pile of jelly packets at him with a muttered instruction to ‘get on with it’, the guinea pig leaped in the air, tiny paws outstretched in a star formation, and yelled, ‘Aaaaaaaiiiieeee, caramba!’

  Titch shrieked and flew up on top of a cupboard; the fox whimpered and made a dash for Ringo’s basket. Ringo had long ago decided the situation had become far too confusing, and that he was safest keeping well out of the way. He flattened his ears and moved over to let the fox in as Ned hissed angrily.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, keep your voice down, you idiot!’ Then, ‘What in the name of fishcakes is wrong with you?’ as the guinea pig began pirouetting across the table top, grinning like a loony.

  ‘I feel goooooood!’ Brian sang. ‘I feel zany and crazy and full of bubbles! I can do anything! Watch me, watch me!’ he cried as he attempted a handstand and fell flat on his face. Then he got up, giggling like a mini hyena, his tiny eyes creased into pinholes, his teeth chattering with glee. He held his furry sides with his tiny paws and laughed until it looked as though he might very well stop breathing.

  Ned took a deep breath. ‘Holy catnip, he’s having a sugar rush.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Ned!’ cried Titch from on top of the cupboard. ‘I’ve got it covered.’

  She swooped down and landed on Brian, clinging on to him with her claws for dear life until he stopped jumping and dancing around.

  ‘You can’t hold me down!’ he squeaked. ‘I have seen the light! I have found the real me! Let me at it! Jelly, jelly! I want jelly!’

  Ned let out a fierce miaow. ‘Good grief!’ he hissed. ‘I should have known this plan wouldn’t work with you lot involved.’

  ‘You know what they say!’ cried Brian. ‘Don’t count your chickens! Heheheheeee!’

  ‘SHUT UP!’ Ned screeched. ‘And you, fox, stop whimpering. Come here. Help me deal with this. We will wake the whole house up if we are not careful.’

  And so, while Titch held on to the excitable, squeaking guinea pig, the fox and the cat nibbled the jelly into bite-sized pieces and dropped them into a measuring jug.

  ‘How are we going to boil the water?’ Titch asked.

  ‘I have that all sorted,’ said Ned. ‘We can use this.’ He gestured to a large white box with a glass door. ‘A microwave!’

  Brian wriggled to get one paw free from Titch and agitated it to and fro, grinning wildly all the while.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘A microwave,’ he said. ‘Heeheeeheee!’

  Ned shook his head. ‘Imbecile. Why did I ever think you would be of any use to us? Titch,’ he said, turning his attention back to the challenge ahead of him. ‘Can you leave the stupid creature and help us? I need you to push at the tap until the water is running.’

  Titch did as she was asked, leaving Brian to turn round and round in crazy circles on the spot. Ned pushed the jug of jelly towards the running tap and Titch pushed at the neck of the tap until it swivelled round and the water was flowing on to the jelly cubes.

  Then Ned shouted, ‘Stop!’ and Titch flew round and pushed the tap the other way so that the water stopped flowing.

  ‘Now – to the microwave. Fox, I need you again. Your breaking-and-entering skills are required.’

  Ned instructed him in how to stand up on the tips of his paws and prise open the microwave door. Then he and Ned nosed the jug of water and jelly across the counter top and into the microwave oven.

  Brian, meanwhile, had jumped into a pile of chewed-up bits of jelly and was rolling in it, shouting, ‘Look at me! I have found my inner pig!’

  ‘That’s it!’ hissed Ned. ‘If you don’t shut up, I’ll find my inner tiger. Titch – you’ll just have to hold on to him.’

  Titch grabbed the sticky, messy guinea pig. There was much flapping on the part of Titch and much squeaking on the part of Brian, but finally she managed to persuade him to come away from the jelly and shut up for the sake of his friends.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Ned. ‘Let’s hope we get through this without being discovered.’

  The melted jelly just needed a top-up of cold water and it was ready to be poured into the moulds.

  ‘This is impossible,’ Ned said, frustrated that his plan was taking so long. He sat down and began washing in earnest while he thought what to do.

  The fox cleared his throat. ‘If I may make a suggestion,’ he said.

  Ned frowned. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Instead of making lots of jelly animals, why don’t we make use of the real animals we have?’ the fox said.

  Ned brist
led. ‘What? And put our lives in danger? The whole point of this exercise was to avoid the girl laying her hands on us again.’

  The fox raised a paw to interject and nodded towards the guinea pig. ‘I think Brian may be able to create more of a diversion than a tableful of jelly animals,’ he said. ‘At least hear me out . . .’

  Brian’s sugar rush eventually wore off, and he curled up and went to sleep while the others took it in turns to keep watch until the sun peeped over the roofs of the houses. At last, at about six o’clock, Ned heard a shuffling of feet outside the kitchen door, alerting him to Meena’s presence.

  ‘Fox! Titch! Everyone!’ he hissed. ‘Wake up!’

  ‘Whassat?’ said the fox, coming out of a deep sleep.

  ‘Eeeek,’ whined Brian. ‘I’ve got a headache.’

  ‘Beurrrrck! Shut up, Brian,’ said Titch.

  ‘Raoooff?’ asked Ringo, looking up hopefully at the bowl of jelly.

  Ned shot him a withering look. ‘Stay out of this, hound. Go back to your basket,’ he ordered.

  ‘Rooohh,’ said Ringo sadly, but he did as he was told.

  ‘Right, so are we clear on what to do?’ Ned said to the others.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said the fox.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to do this—’ Brian began, but Titch had picked him up and plonked him right into the middle of the bowl of jelly on the table.

  ‘Now – hide!’ Ned hissed.

  Titch crouched down behind the bowl; Ned and the fox hid under the table. The door to the kitchen creaked open, and there was Meena, a nasty smile playing around the edges of her mouth. In her arms was the poor little fox cub, crammed into a pair of doll’s dungarees and wearing a pink sock on his head to hide his pointy ears.

  Ned realized that the fox’s tail was sticking out and tried to grab it to tuck it out of sight, but as he leaned over to do so, lots of things happened at once.

  ‘Daddy!’ cried the cub, who had spotted the tail and was now struggling for freedom.

  ‘Jelly?’ squealed Meena, staring in horror at the bowl on the table.

  ‘¡Arriba, arriba!’ yelled Brian, leaping from the bowl, covered from head to toe in orange goo. ‘Let me at her! I’ll teach her to be cruel. I am invincible! I have Pig Power!’

  ‘ARGHHHHHH!’ screamed Meena. ‘A jelly monster!’

  ‘Woof-woof-woof-woof!’ barked Ringo in delight. He forgot he was supposed to stay in his basket and ran at Meena, jumping and pawing at her, desperate to join in what he thought looked like great fun.

  ‘Beuuuuruck!’ shouted Titch, leaping into the air from behind Brian. She picked him up and launched herself at Meena, shoving the jelly-covered Brian into her face.

  ‘ARRRRGHHHH!’ The little girl screamed and dropped the wriggling fox cub, whom she had been trying to hold out of the way of Ringo. The dog was now running round and round her legs so that she was trapped.

  ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ cried the cub, scampering over as best he could in his bizarre get-up.

  ‘Thank you, thank you, Ned!’ cried the fox, as he licked and nuzzled his little baby. ‘Thank you, all of you. You have earned our undying friendship,’ he said. ‘I promise you will never again be troubled by us foxes.’ And so saying, he picked his cub up by the scruff of its neck and raced out through the cat flap at top speed.

  Mum was jolted out of a deep sleep by the rumpus and came out on to the landing just as Wilf, too, emerged, rubbing his eyes.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he mumbled.

  ‘Sounds like someone’s downstairs,’ Mum whispered, putting her finger to her lips.

  Grandma emerged, looking sleepy and dishevelled as well.

  ‘It’s probably the dog and cat chasing each other around as usual,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. Let’s go down together.’

  The three of them crept on tiptoe down to the hall, where they stopped behind Mum and listened carefully.

  ‘I can’t hear anything now, can you?’ Wilf said in a rather loud whisper.

  ‘Shhh,’ said Grandma. ‘What’s that funny noise coming from the kitchen?’

  They all strained to hear what Grandma was talking about, and sure enough they could just make out a faint whimpering.

  ‘It sounds a bit like an animal in distress,’ said Mum, frowning.

  ‘Oh no!’ Wilf cried, pushing past both Mum and Grandma. ‘I bet she’s done something horrible again.’

  ‘Wilfred!’ Mum cried, lungeing to grab his arm.

  But he was already pushing open the door to the kitchen.

  ‘I KNEW it would be you!’ Wilf shouted, standing in the doorway and pointing ahead of him.

  Mum and Grandma came up behind him. Both of them gasped at the scene before them.

  Most of the animals had already gone, but Meena was there, sitting on the floor, her face white with shock while Ringo licked enthusiastically at the jelly on her face. The little girl was staring blankly ahead, whimpering, making the noises the others had heard from upstairs. All around her were opened packets of jelly and the chewed remains of jelly that had not made it into the microwave. There was orange jelly everywhere: on the walls, the ceiling, the surfaces, the cupboard doors – but most of it was all over Meena.

  ‘Meena!’ cried Mum. ‘What have you been up to?’

  Meena looked slowly up at her mother and said, ‘Meena’s sorry, Mummy.’

  But the baby voice that usually worked such a charm on Mrs Peasbody did not work this time.

  ‘Sorry?’ she repeated, her face darkening dangerously. ‘SORRY? Is that all you can say? LOOK at this mess! And you told me you didn’t like jelly! You must have got it out of the bins – oh, my goodness. You are a PEST! I am NEVER letting you out of my sight, ever again!’

  Wilf did not understand what had happened, but he had a strong feeling that for once his sister had not caused the mess. He knew how much she hated jelly, so he was pretty certain she would not have got into this mess alone. But he decided to keep quiet and smiled a small smile to himself.

  Serves you right, Meena, he thought.

  Grandma saw the little smile and put her arm around her grandson. ‘Do you know what, Wilf?’ she whispered. ‘Something tells me your sister has got her just desserts.’ She chuckled.

  Later, back at Brian’s hutch, Ned said he did not think Mrs Peasbody needed to have lost her temper like that. ‘It’s not that I feel sorry for the child,’ he said, ‘but I think you gave her such a fright, Brian! She wouldn’t dare take any of us on again after that performance!’

  Brian smiled. ‘I wouldn’t let her anyway. I have never felt so brave and strong in all my life.’

  ‘All thanks to you, Ned,’ said Titch generously. ‘I take back all the rude things I said about you when we first met. You are not the Arch-Enemy, after all. And you are most definitely a friend to be trusted.’

  ‘Well, that is kind of you,’ Ned purred. ‘Although I have to say that it was you who put the most magnificent finishing touches to our little performance. Flying at the Terror with Brian in your claws was pure genius. In fact, I would say that you have achieved your aim of doing something rather marvellous.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Titch clucked, bowing her head bashfully.

  ‘So, I have to ask you,’ Ned said. ‘Are you still intent on escaping? Only I, er, I would rather you didn’t. We have all got quite used to having you around the place, you see.’

  Titch chirruped with pleasure. ‘Oh no, I think I’ve changed my mind about that,’ she said. ‘I can see how much I am needed around here. I only have one request . . .’

  ‘What’s that?’ Ned asked.

  Titch looked at Brian. ‘If this is to be my home, can I at least be free to eat my breakfast in bed occasionally?’

  Brian giggled. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he said. ‘I may well do the same from now on.’

  Wilf came out to check on his pets. He needed to be completely sure that they were all safe and sound after the scene he had witnessed in the kitchen.

 
‘Brian?’ he called through the hutch door. ‘Are you OK?’

  The guinea pig came shuffling over, squeaking happily.

  ‘Phew,’ said Wilf. ‘And Titch – where is she?’ he said, looking around. He could not see the hen. ‘Oh no, Titch. Where are you?’

  But before panic could take hold of him he heard a very excitable noise from Brian’s bedding area.

  ‘Beeeuuuurrrck! Berck-berrrck-beuuurrrckkk!’

  Wilf laughed. ‘You sound happy, Titchy! What’s all the fuss about?’ He leaned in to get the little hen out for a cuddle – and his hand brushed against something smooth and warm. He took Titch out of the hutch and peered in to get a closer look.

  ‘Oh my! I don’t believe it!’ he cried. He picked it up in one hand and, holding Titch in the other, he ran back to the house shouting, ‘Grandma! Mum! Come and see!’

  ‘What now?’ Mum complained as Wilf skidded through the back door, holding out his hand. ‘Can’t I have my cup of tea in peace?’

  ‘Wilf, are you all right?’ Grandma asked.

  ‘I certainly am!’ he cried. ‘Look!’

  And he opened his hand to show them something smooth and creamy-coloured . . .

  ‘An EGG!’ they chorused.

  ‘At last,’ said Mum, ‘one of our animals has done something for us to smile about.’

  ‘Something marvellous, more like!’ said Wilf.

  ‘Beuuurrrckkkk!’ agreed Titch.

  Which, roughly translated, means, ‘I thought so too!’

  It’s so BORING having normal pets!

  For Felix and Flo, animals are the NUMBER ONE TOP PRIORITY in life. And although Felix loves his pets (a lazy dog, an angry cat and a noisy hamster), what he really wants is to look after an animal which is EXOTIC and DIFFERENT. Will Flo’s brilliant and FOOLPROOF plan get Felix his perfect pet – or will it just send him bananas?

  A side-splittingly chaotic story about schemes, dreams and monkeying around.