Book Read Free

The Curse of the Deadly 7

Page 5

by Garth Jennings


  ‘I’m not a genie, Stan. Whatever you want to do, it has to actually exist somewhere – it has to be real. But it can be anything. So? If you could go anywhere or do anything in the world, what would it be?’

  The mood in the workshop swiftly changed from glum to giddy as Nelson began to make a list of each monster’s name and the thing they most wanted to do.

  It turned out to be the most extraordinary list you have ever seen.

  THE MET GALA

  Only the most famous, most fabulous, most beautiful, most exciting people are invited to the Met Gala in New York City. It is the fashion event of the year, and every guest makes a special effort to dress up in something they hope will impress their peers and send people on social media websites clicking the LIKE button in their millions. Pop stars have been known to arrive in gowns so huge that it takes a team of people to help them up the stairs. A movie star once arrived with a replica of his own head under his arm. Glamour, glitz and wild invention are celebrated here, and so it should be no surprise to learn that it was Hoot’s wish to attend the Met Gala.

  It had been Celeste’s idea to activate the Bang Stone at the bottom of Ivan’s garden, since it backed on to a train track and the sound of a passing train would help cover the loud bang of their departure.

  The train approached.

  The monsters crowded together.

  Miser swallowed the Bang Stone, closed his eyes and pictured the location they intended to go to in his mind.

  BANG!

  Celeste and Ivan took off their safety goggles and stared at the patch of ground where her brother and his monsters had been standing only seconds before.

  ‘Wow,’ said Ivan with a chuckle of disbelief as he crouched and pressed his palm into the grass.

  BANG!

  Nelson and his monsters were relieved to find they were alone on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art and crawled to the edge. Fortunately, New York is a very noisy city and the constant symphony of motor engines, police sirens, construction sites and car horns meant no one heard the bang. Nelson’s monsters cooed at the sight of the city. It may have been noisy, but it was breathtakingly beautiful.

  ‘That’s it, the Met Gala, exactly what you wished for, Hoot,’ said Nelson proudly as he peered down at the guests posing on the red carpet for the paparazzi. ‘Now, Hoot, remember the plan. We’ll wait for you here, and if you start to swell up in size, get out of there straight away.’

  Nelson turned round to find Hoot had already gone. Unable to contain his excitement, Hoot had flown down the side of the building in order to join the party.

  It was the most impressive entrance anyone had ever seen in the history of the Met Gala. Swooping low over the heads of the world’s press came a single white sheet, like a cheap Halloween ghost costume. It landed right in front of the paparazzi, where it stood very still for a few seconds.

  Who on earth is this? people asked one other. Who is under the sheet? How did they manage to fly over our heads?

  When you’re looking to make an entrance, surprise is everything. Hoot knew this only too well, which is why he waited under the sheet for a few more seconds before revealing himself to the world.

  Whoosh! Hoot flung the sheet to one side and the cameras began a flashing frenzy. Onlookers screamed with delight, and the eyes of fellow guests almost popped out of their sockets as this extraordinary person paraded up and down the red carpet.

  Like all of Nelson’s monsters, Hoot was invisible. Dressing up was the only way to be seen by humans and dressing up was

  Hoot’s speciality. Tonight Hoot had covered his body in golden glitter so that every feather shone and sparkled. Even his beak was coated in glitter, and upon his head he wore his favourite top hat, also given the golden glitter treatment. Ski goggles sprayed gold and encrusted with plastic gemstones covered his eyes, golden foil coated his teeth, and the only parts of Hoot that did not look like a bird were his hands (gloved) and his legs. Ivan had helped make Hoot a pair of stilts, over which he wore a pair of golden trousers and thigh-high golden boots. The stilts made Hoot appear to be a normal human being wearing a magnificent golden bird costume.

  Over here! Hey! Look over your shoulder! To the right! Here! Here! One more please! The paparazzi screamed their requests at Hoot, who was only too happy to oblige each one of them with pose after pose.

  ‘My dears, it is such an honour to be here among you tonight!’ cried Hoot, though no one heard a word he said. He strutted up and down the steps soaking up applause from everyone, including Beyoncé and Jay-Z, who Hoot was thrilled to see were deeply impressed by him. He could have paraded all night and never got tired of the adulation, but reality started to catch up with Hoot. Security men began to take a serious interest in this strange guest who had arrived without a ticket. Hoot had made his way into the lobby of the museum, where fashion legend Anna Wintour insisted on having a picture taken of them both. With one final wave to the cameras, and a kiss he blew directly to Rihanna (who pretended to catch it), Hoot stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.

  Three security guards decided that although Hoot appeared to pose no threat to the Gala, they should pursue him just in case. They took the second elevator, and when they arrived on the top floor, they followed the trail of golden glitter through a fire-exit door and up on to the roof of the building.

  BANG!

  The loud noise made the security men drop to the ground, fearing it was a gun shot, but when they looked up, there was no sign of anyone else on the roof. The mysterious guest had vanished, leaving only a flurry of golden glitter in his wake.

  GOLD FEVER

  Nelson’s plan was already working well. Creating a wish list for his monsters had given them all something to look forward to, instead of dwelling on the inevitable sadness of having to say goodbye.

  Three days had passed since Hoot had graced the carpet of the Met Gala but he was still trending higher online than a new royal baby. No one knew Hoot’s name, who he was or where he had come from. All anyone knew for sure was that someone dressed to look like a golden bird had been the star of the Met Gala and the mystery around this person only made the story more delicious.

  Hoot had been banned from social media because one look at himself on Instagram made him quickly swell in size and this was very dangerous, especially when they were all inside Ivan’s workshop and could easily be crushed.

  ‘It was the greatest night of my entire life and I shall not forget it as long as I live,’ croaked Hoot, who had lost his voice from all the singing and chatting he had been doing since the event.

  ‘Well, you’re not gonna live much longer, are ya? We’re all goin’ back into Nelson, so enjoy it while it lasts, ya vain pillock!’ snapped little Stan, who was stomping around the workshop looking for something to kick.

  ‘Oh, but my image shall live on forever. Yes, I have been made . . . What’s the word for someone that lives forever?’

  ‘Immortal?’ said Nelson.

  ‘That’s it! I am immortal!’

  ‘You are a prat!’ snapped Stan.

  ‘All right, easy, Stan,’ said Nelson. ‘It’s Miser’s turn tonight. OK, Miser? Ready to go?’

  ‘I am indeed, Master Nelson,’ said Miser as he opened the door of the workshop to the garden.

  BANG!

  Nelson and his monsters opened their eyes to find they were standing in total darkness. He could hear Miser retch and throw up the stone, which clattered and fizzed on the ground.

  ‘Someone find a light switch,’ whispered Nelson as he reached out for something to hold on to. The monsters were pushing and shoving around him when he heard the whip-crack of Miser’s tentacles, followed by a click. Dazzling fluorescent lights burst into life above him.

  ‘Oow!’ moaned Spike as he and the other monsters covered their eyes from the painfully bright light.

  ‘You could have warned us, Miser! Instead of blinding us all, ya great blue berk!’ squeaked littl
e Stan.

  But Miser didn’t apologize. He had been struck dumb by the sight that stretched out before them: 500,000 bars of gold.

  ‘Holy cow,’ whispered Nelson. They had transported themselves to the vaults beneath the Bank of England. It was Miser’s wish to be completely immersed in wealth, and here, in the second largest vault in the world, was enough gold to buy your own country.

  ‘You can look, you can touch, but you cannot steal any of this,’ were Nelson’s orders. He was wearing his Mexican wrestler’s mask, a precaution he always took in case of security cameras.

  Miser remained speechless. His eyes were wide and his tentacles shivered with delight at the sight of gold bars stacked high in every direction.

  ‘Diss is well borin’,’ said Nosh.

  ‘Yeah . . . it’s just a load of . . . metal,’ said Puff with a yawn.

  Crush felt equally bored, climbing into Nelson’s arms and closing his eyes.

  Miser was the only monster impressed by their surroundings. He walked slowly down the aisle, mesmerized. ‘Mmm . . . gold . . .’ he wheezed. He took a deep breath through those wide nostrils, licking his lips while his rubbery little fingers stroked the golden bars. Imagine you were very hungry and you found yourself surrounded by your favourite cakes. You would probably find it hard to resist eating one of the cakes, or at least taking a nibble of the icing. But would you stop at just a nibble? Do you have that much self-control when it comes to something you crave? Miser felt equally conflicted around all this gold. He wanted it very, very much, and the deeper he walked into the vault, the greater his desire for the gold became.

  ‘Imagine what one could buy with all of this gold? Everything, everything your heart desired . . .’ whispered Miser to himself.

  ‘All right, don’t go too far. Maybe just stay up this end,’ called Nelson, but Miser could not hear him over his own wheezing breath and thumping heart.

  ‘Miser!? Did you hear me? I said, don’t go too far!’

  Miser stopped walking. His right hand gripped a bar of gold, and slowly he lifted it from the stack. His breathing became louder and faster, his eyes wider and more manic.

  ‘Hey! Put that back!’

  Too late. Miser was overcome with greed and began to pull the gold towards him.

  ‘Hey! What are you doing!?’ yelled Nelson as he started running towards Miser, dropping the snoozing Crush.

  ‘Yes, what exactly is Miser up to? Is he making some sort of nest?’ said Hoot.

  Clang! Clang! Clang! went the gold as Miser pulled bar after bar off the shelves and piled them around himself.

  ‘He’s gone mad!’ shouted Stan.

  ‘Nelly-son, be careful!’ cried Nosh.

  Miser’s rubbery tentacles were whipping around so fast that Nelson couldn’t get close to him.

  ‘Gold fever!’ shouted Spike. ‘He’s got gold fever!’

  ‘What’s gold fever?’ replied Nelson.

  ‘I don’t know, I just made it up – but look at him! That’s what he’s got!’

  Miser certainly looked like he had a fever. His blue skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils dilated, his breathing fast, his mouth open, and drool ran down his chin as he collected the bars.

  ‘GOLD!’ roared Miser.

  ‘You’re gonna bury yourself alive under that stuff!’ Nelson cried, but again, Miser didn’t hear him. The tower of gold kept growing around him.

  ‘Nosh! Throw me the Bang Stone!’ said Nelson.

  Nosh passed the stone to Stan, who threw it to Nelson. Nelson put the stone in his mouth and leaped at Miser.

  BANG!

  Celeste and Ivan came running out of the workshop to find Nelson wrestling with something invisible in the garden.

  ‘You weren’t supposed to come back here! We all agreed it was safer for you to come to the park! That bang’s probably woken up the whole street,’ said Celeste.

  ‘It was an emergency!’ said Nelson ‘Miser went nuts! I think it was the gold. There was too much of it, and it made him freak out.’ What Celeste and Ivan couldn’t see was Miser lying on his back, pinned down by Nelson. He was frothing at the mouth and shaking violently. The whites of Miser’s eyes had turned gold, and Nelson could see little golden veins threaded beneath his blue skin.

  ‘It’s OK – it’s OK, Miser. Calm down. Just breathe. Everything’s OK now. You just overdid it, that’s all. It was too much. But you’re safe now. We’re home. We’re back home. Shhh.’

  To Nelson’s relief, Miser’s breathing slowed.

  ‘Nelse, I think this has to stop now,’ said Celeste. ‘You can’t keep exploding here in the back garden, even when there is a train coming.’

  Nelson let go of Miser, who rolled on to his side and closed his eyes.

  ‘But I’ve got to go back for the others,’ said Nelson, panting heavily and reaching out for the Bang Stone in the grass.

  ‘Well, after that you can’t do it again. Seriously. That bang will have people calling the police.’

  Before Nelson could answer, the train used to carry construction materials at night roared past – an enormous stroke of luck, as this would surely cover the sound of the Bang Stone.

  ‘Miser, wait here. I’ll be right back,’ he said.

  BANG! The sound was buried beneath the loud clatter of the passing night train.

  Miser coughed and spluttered in the grass.

  ‘What happened? Where is Nelson? Where are the others?’ he said breathlessly, but Celeste could not see or hear him to answer his questions.

  BANG!

  Nelson reappeared in the vaults to find his remaining six monsters running around in a blind panic. Blue lights were flashing in the ceiling and an alarm was ringing so loudly it felt as if the sound were drilling into his ears. Before he could breathe, Nelson had to throw up the stone. It clattered on the floor and Nelson wiped his mouth.

  ‘Look out! Behind you!’ yelled Puff, and Nelson turned to see three security guards running towards him.

  ‘Aaaargh!’

  Nelson ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction, completely forgetting about the Bang Stone. The guards would have caught him within seconds had it not been for Stan, who ran out in front of the men and knocked them off their feet.

  Nelson tripped over too, though it was gold bars, not a monster, that caused him to fall.

  ‘Jump on Nelly-son!’ Nosh instructed.

  ‘What are you doing?! I can’t get up!’ cried Nelson as his monsters piled on top of him. Nosh was last to join the pile, and just as the security guards were about to reach them, Nosh popped the Bang Stone in his mouth.

  BANG!

  THE MANGO FIASCO

  Nelson knew they had escaped from the vault, but it wasn’t until his monsters clambered off him that he could lift his head and see where they were. Though the sun had yet to rise, there was enough light in the sky to reveal rows and rows of leafy trees stretching out before them. Where the rows of trees ended, a dense and dark jungle spread beneath a smoking volcano.

  ‘Where are we, Nosh?’ said Nelson.

  Nosh spat out the Bang Stone and gazed up at the leafy canopy of the tree they were all lying beneath. ‘Mmmm . . .’ He hummed. ‘Mangoes.’

  ‘What do you mean, mangoes? Nosh, where have you brought us?’ said Nelson as he sat up, his head turning left and right, still half expecting to see security guards running towards him.

  ‘Ooooo, diss was ma dream, Nelly-son. Remember? It was on da list. To come eat da mangoes from da mango trees. Me love da mangoes so muchly.’

  Stan slapped Nosh’s belly. ‘You were supposed to take us back home! And this ain’t home, is it?!’ Stan picked up a broken wooden fruit crate with a picture of a mango and sunshine on the side. ‘It’s a flipping mango farm!’ Stan threw the fruit crate on the ground and smashed it to bits.

  The other monsters groaned and grumbled. After a scare like they’d had in the vaults, everyone wanted to be safely back
at home and not on the other side of the world, no matter how good the fruit was.

  ‘I must say, I find the sight of that volcano gives me the heebie-jeebies. Remember what happened to Buzzard and his monster? How they perished in the lava? Yikes.’ Hoot shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

  ‘Hooonk,’ said Crush sadly as he remembered the adorable cuddly rhino leaping into the volcano.

  Nelson pulled off his Mexican wrestler mask. The tropical heat was already making him drip with sweat. ‘Nosh.’ He sighed. ‘We were going to do your wish another night. This was Miser’s night, not yours.’

  ‘And what’s more, my dear Nosh, I’m afraid I don’t see a single mango up here,’ said Hoot, who had flown up on to a low branch.

  ‘What?!’ barked Nosh. ‘Where all da mangoes gone!?’

  Spike picked up what looked like a melted brown shoe but was actually a rotten mango. ‘I think we’ve missed the harvest.’

  Stan began to chuckle.

  ‘Nah, nah, nah, dere’s gotta be da mangoes here! Me dream about comin’ to diss place!’ Poor Nosh looked around and realized that Spike was right. The trees had been harvested of all their fruit.

  ‘Should have been here a month ago, it would’ve been ideal,’ said Spike. ‘Well, for you at least. Not for me. I don’t really like mangoes. I prefer a banana, though I don’t like it when they have brown squashy bits, or if they’re too green, and I don’t like the stringy bits you have to peel off. Come to think of it, I don’t really like bananas.’

  ‘Oh, will you stop moaning about bananas and let’s just go home.’ Stan punched the tree and the branches shook.

  Nelson could see Nosh was fed up. ‘Nosh, don’t worry. We can do something else for you. But tonight is not the night. Let’s just go back home, please.’

  Nosh nodded reluctantly and picked up the Bang Stone that fizzed in the grass beside him.

  ‘Everybody hold on,’ said Nelson. There were no protests as they had all had enough adventures for one night and home was exactly where they wanted to be.

 

‹ Prev