“You know, that’s a very good idea,” said Father Edmund, thoughtfully.
“Then you could just tilt it a little bit when he’d got the idea, and then make it steeper each time until it was upright,” added Grumbo, approaching the empty green chimney as Smithers finally extricated himself from the bottom of the purple tube with a resounding ‘plop’, rather like a cork being pulled out of a bottle. “Come on, no time like the present! “ continued Grumbo, enthusiastically, pulling a bolt from a fastening in the floor. “You go to the top again, Percy and take the rope with you.” Percy didn’t need telling twice. Tying the rope firmly around the chimney pot, he threw the other end down to Grumbo. Then he began to slide back down. As he did so, Grumbo began to tug on the rope. There was a loud creaking noise, and the chimney swung forwards and then began to descend very quickly indeed….
Percy, who had just at that moment let go of the sides, flew out of the end and through the air like a human cannon ball!
Down below, Smithers who had tripped over the rope, was lying on his back like a giant red ladybird, kicking his legs in exactly the spot where the chimney was due to land. There was a loud ‘thwack’ noise, rather like a tennis ball hitting a racquet, and the chimney pot bounced off Smithers’ huge stomach and headed upwards again.
Percy the cannon ball made a grab at the nearest solid object which turned out to be Wingle, who had just reached the top of the yellow chimney. Knocked off his feet by this unexpected arrival, Wingle fell down the outside of the yellow tube taking Percy with him, both tangled together by the cord on Wingle’s sack.
By now all the Father Christmases had stopped climbing and were gazing out from the top of their chimneys to see what was happening. The green chimney was still oscillating to and fro and Grumbo was running frantically around the floor chasing the end of the rope as it moved. Smithers sat up and rubbed his stomach, muttering to himself. Father Edmund was sitting back in his wheelchair roaring with laughter.
“I don’t think I’ve seen anything so funny in the last hundred years,” he said, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes with an enormous turquoise handkerchief. “ Your face was a picture, Grumbo! Just as well Smithers had his super-spring elasticated corsets on, though! Time to finish for the afternoon I think.”
Chapter 9 – Grumbo Engineers a Sticky Situation
“Pack and dispatch next,” announced Grumbo, after they had helped Father Edmund to anchor the green chimney so that it was lying down safely and ready for Smithers’ next attempt. They entered a gigantic network of caves all lined with shelves. At intervals there were huge rolls of wrapping paper hanging from the walls with serrated cutting edges underneath, like enormous rolls of cling film. Sellotape dispensers hung above the tables and pots of glue stood in the middle. Several Father Christmases were busy at the benches. Percy noticed that each table bore a label saying: ‘Easy’, ‘Medium’, ‘Hard’ or ‘Really Difficult’. The very last bench was marked ‘Challenging – Qualified FCs only’.
He recognised Rhodri working on the first bench. The parcels before him were already in rectangular boxes of different sizes and he was rapidly covering them in paper and attaching bows. As he completed each one, Percy noticed that he put on a sticker from a bowl at his side and then placed the parcel on the conveyor belt that ran down the centre of the room.
“Hi, Rhodri,” said Grumbo. “You escaped from Miss MacGrammar then!”
“Only just, Grumbo! She’s kept the rest of the class in to go over their spellings again.”
“Why did she let you off?” asked Percy with interest.
“Ah, “ said Grumbo, “ Rhodri has a gift for spelling. It’s because he specialises in book testing. He reads so many words that he always recognises when one looks wrong. I bet you got ten out of ten, didn’t you, Rhodri?”
“Well, sort of,” said Rhodri, modestly. “Nine and a half actually – she took half a mark off for not putting the capital ‘T’ at the start of ‘Tuesday’. You were lucky to get out before the test.”
“Capital ‘T’?” said Grumbo, wonderingly. “I thought it began with ‘Ch’. You know: ‘CHEWS-DAY’, or is it ‘CHOOSE-DAY?” Rhodri looked at Percy and Percy looked at Rhodri, and then they both burst out laughing.
“Grumbo, you are hopeless!” declared Rhodri. “Have you shown Percy our new machine yet?”
“No, I didn’t know we’d got one. Where is it and what does it do?” enquired Grumbo.
“It’s brilliant,” declared Rhodri. “It makes the ribbon bows automatically!” He led the way over to the other side of the cave where a strange contraption full of gears and wheels and levers stood. On the front a notice read ‘Super Deluxe Ribbon Bow Maker’.
“You choose your ribbon colours,” explained Rhodri, pointing at a series of large reels at the top, “- and you pour the glue in here. Then you press one of these to choose what size you want and how many, and the bow or the rosette comes out of the chute. Do you want to have a go, Percy?”
“Please!” said Percy. “Can we make a big red one?”
”Certainly,” said Rhodri, picking up a reel of vivid red ribbon and feeding the end into a slot. “You choose the style and the size by pressing these buttons. Then press the green button marked ‘Go’.”
Percy pressed the buttons. There was a whirring sound as the cogs began to turn and the ribbon was drawn inside the machine. Seconds later a large red rosette dropped out of the end of the chute.
“Let the glue dry for a moment,” said Rhodri, “and then you can pick it up.”
“That’s clever,” remarked Grumbo. He turned to Percy: “We used to have to make them all by hand, and it took ages. I’ll tell you what, Rhodri, you tell us how many you want and what colours and Percy and I will operate the machine. Then you can get your packing done in record time.” Rhodri seemed to hesitate for a minute, thought Percy.
“OK,” he agreed, “but please do be careful with it, Grumbo. We’ve only had it a week and Father Gerbil’s very proud of it.”
“Of course we’ll be careful, “ responded Grumbo airily. “There’s nothing to it!”
Rhodri threw them an anxious look as he returned to his bench. Grumbo was enthusiastically fitting a reel of yellow ribbon in to the first slot. He peered at the controls. “Extra large, I think!” he said putting his finger firmly on one of the buttons and holding it down.
“I don’t think you actually need to hold the button down,” ventured Percy. “You just press it.”
“Bound to work better if you’re firm with it,” replied Grumbo, cheerfully, his eyes on the delivery chute. Seconds later a splendidly large yellow bow emerged. “You see!” he beamed. “Let’s do some more!” As he spoke a second yellow bow appeared; then a third and a fourth. A fifth and sixth bow slid down as the reel of ribbon above whirled round furiously. Soon the huge bows were shooting out of the machine faster than Percy could gather them up.
“I think we’re running out of ribbon,” he said to Grumbo, who was still standing with his finger on the button, mesmerised by the appearance of the endless stream of yellow bows.
“What? Oh, yes. Better put another reel in. I’ll do it.” He fitted a bright blue sparkly ribbon into the second slot. There was a slight jolt from the machine, a scraping noise and then a half finished yellow bow appeared followed by silence.
“We’ve broken it!” -Percy glanced anxiously at Rhodri as he spoke.
“Nonsense!” declared Grumbo, vigorously jabbing the green button. There was a grinding sound and then the cogs shuddered and began to turn again. Percy watched the delivery chute. A small blue and yellow rosette creaked slowly out.
“You see! Nothing to it!” announced Grumbo. “Just needs a bit of oil, that’s all. Hand me that can off the shelf, will you.”
With misgiving, Percy passed Grumbo a large oilcan.
Lifting off the top of the machine, Grumbo peered into the inside. “Got
you, ….got you!” he said as he inverted the can over various points.” Then he handed it back to Percy and closed the lid. “Got to look after your machinery, you know. There’s nothing like a bit of oil to keep things running smoothly.” Percy replaced the can on the shelf – it felt very considerably lighter.
“We’ll see how she goes now,” announced Grumbo, wiping oil off his hands onto the back of his trousers. With this he stuck his thumb firmly on the green button again.
Nothing happened.
Grumbo pressed again.
Nothing happened.
“Maybe something’s stuck,” suggested Percy.
Grumbo grunted: “They just don’t maintain their equipment properly these days,” he declared, poking at one of the cogs and wiping the dirt off with the end of his beard. “It probably needs a thorough overhaul.” Percy’s heart sank. “Have a look round for a screwdriver, can you Percy.” Percy looked, secretly hoping he wouldn’t find one. Alas, there was a toolbag on the bench next to him. “Over there,” said Grumbo, irritably.
Percy reluctantly opened it and handed over a large screwdriver.
“I’ll just tighten a few things up first,” said Grumbo, suiting the action to the word. “And then I think the delivery mechanism needs taking apart.”
A few seconds later the delivery chute and a large number of screws, nuts and bolts lay on the floor around them and Grumbo, his head half way inside the machine, was poking his beard between the remaining gears and pulling through metres of mangled ribbon.
“There,” he announced in a muffled voice, “that’s the problem. Probably been blocked up for days,” he added cheerfully, emerging into the light.
Percy decided not to point out that the mangled ribbon was all the same yellow or blue that they had been using.
Grumbo set to work to put the chute back together again. A few of the screws had rolled under the bench, and one of the nuts didn’t seem to fit anywhere any longer, but Grumbo seemed undeterred. The finished result looked a slightly different shape, considered Percy, but he felt that maybe that was something he hadn’t better mention either.
Grumbo proudly fed in more ribbon and pressed the button. The machine whirred into action. Out slid a large sparkling blue bow, or at least, it would have been sparkling if it hadn’t been so oily.
“We need to work the oil through,” said Grumbo, examining it. He pushed the button. Two more bows emerged, slightly less oily than the first.Percy was impressed. He hadn’t believed Grumbo would get it working again. He picked up the least oily of the bows. As he did so, it fell apart. Grumbo’s face dropped. He took the remains of the bow from Percy and examined it closely: “It’s run out of glue, that’s all!” he declared, brightening. Taking a fresh giant size tub of glue, he unscrewed it and poured the entire contents into the funnel at the top of the bow making machine.
“Are you sure you’re supposed to put the whole tub in?” asked Percy, faintly, watching the glutinous white stuff glug slowly down into the pipe. He wasn’t even sure that Grumbo had put the funnel in the right hole. In fact, he was nearly sure that the one Rhodri had pointed out was on the right, not the left. Grumbo, however, seemed confident that all was well.
“If you weren’t meant to put it all in they would make smaller containers, wouldn’t they?” he pointed out, shaking the last reluctant drops out. “It makes lots of bows, so it needs lots of glue – simple as that. You can press the button this time.”
Percy pressed. Just as he did so Rhodri’s voice by his ear said: “I thought I’d come and see how you’re getting on.”
There was a gurgling sound from the bow machine and the cogs began to spin round. Faster and faster they seemed to go but nothing emerged from the chute.
“Something’s stuck,” announced Grumbo, authoritatively. He bent down to peer inside the hole and poked a screwdriver insideThe machine seemed to be getting rather hot and there was an odd smell coming from it.
Then, suddenly, Grumbo backed hastily away as the chute began to spew out enormous lengths of slippery slimy gluey oily ribbon. So fast were the cogs turning that it was creating its own breeze and the lengths of ribbon were being drawn up into the air. Dozens of them now began to float down. Before they could think what to do next, Percy, Grumbo, Rhodri and most of the nearby benches were all covered in the long sticky strips.
Glued!
“Get it off me, get it off me!” yelled Rhodri, pulling at his ear as a particularly large piece wound itself round and round his head. “Get it off, quick! It’s super setting glue!”
Grumbo, who was trying to pull a strip from his own beard, reached out to help unwind Rhodri. But there his hand stopped. The glue had set. His hand was fastened tight to Rhodri’s beard! What was more, his own beard was stuck to his hand as well. Percy tried to move forward to help, but his feet were stuck to the ground. He couldn’t move!
“I’m stuck!” he said unnecessarily.
“We’re all stuck!” announced Grumbo.
“urgh ullng eye eardd!” said Rhodri, whose mouth was completely covered by tape.
“It’s no good talking to us in Welsh,” said Grumbo, disapprovingly. “ Percy only speaks English.”
“Ught erlsh,” responded Rhodri, waving his one free arm about vigorously.
“I think he’s trying to say it’s not Welsh,” Percy interpreted helpfully.
“It doesn’t matter what it is if we can’t understand it, does it?” retorted Grumbo trying to pull his hand away in vain.
The bow making machine came to a shuddering halt and a small plume of evil smelling smoke rose from the lid as a last scrap of blue ribbon settled on the top of Grumbo’s head.
“At least it’s stopped,” said Percy, struggling to free his feet. Then he had a thought. All he had to do was pull his feet out of his socks! In a moment he was free.
Rhodri and Grumbo were by now engaged in a sort of one handed fight as they tried to separate themselves. All the glue had now set hard. Percy looked at the pair of Father Christmases glued helplessly together, and bit his lip. He didn’t want to hurt their feelings by laughing, but it was hard not to as they stood there, covered in ribbons, glaring at each other and waving one arm each.
“If you stop fighting,” he said, “and both step out of your wellingtons together, you’ll be able to walk.” The waving hands stopped in mid air.
“He’s right you know!” remarked Grumbo.
“Mmm ut irl uck,” responded Rhodri.
“Yes,” agreed Grumbo, rightly interpreting this as meaning they would still be stuck together, “but we could get Father Gerbil to find something to dissolve the glue.” Rhodri shook his head vigorously, waggling Grumbo’s beard to and fro as he did so.
“You’re pulling my chin again!” Grumbo growled. “Why can’t we tell Father Gerbil?” Rhodri became even more agitated and a succession of loud grunts emerged from beneath the ribbon. Percy looked at him anxiously.
“I think he’s worried about how Father Gerbil will react when he sees the state of the bow machine,” he said. Rhodri nodded, almost lifting Grumbo from the floor as he did so.
“Oh, is that all!” said Grumbo airily. “What a fuss to make about nothing. Old Gerbil won’t mind!” Beads of sweat began to appear on Rhodri’s brow at this remark. He emitted a series of loud grunts and began to wave his one free hand about again.
“Oh stop it!” said Grumbo, angrily.
“I don’t think Rhodri’s very happy,” said Percy, eyeing Rhodri closely. “I think I’ve got a better idea.” He peered at Rhodri’s forehead as he spoke. “The ribbon on Rhodri’s head is coming loose. I think his sweat is stopping it sticking. If you both go near the boiler and move about as much as you can until you’re hot and sweaty, then you might be able to loosen the rest the same way.” The two Father Christmases looked at one another. Then they looked at Percy. Then with one accord they both simultaneously stepped
out of their wellingtons and began to move towards the boiler.
“You could jump up and down,” suggested Percy. “One, two, three, go!”
“Yeeowh!” screeched Grumbo as Rhodri went up and he went down and the beards between them stretched taut. “You’re pulling my beard off!” He stopped and glared at Rhodri who glared back at him, his eyes furious above the ribbon.
“You have to move together,” pointed out Percy, patiently.
“Urgh oh gugh,” uttered Rhodri. “earrr oan weught.”
“Beards don’t sweat,” translated Grumbo who was beginning to get the hang of this. “- He’s right, hair doesn’t sweat! We’ll have to think of another way.”
“Yes, but hands do,” pointed out Percy. “At least you could get your hands free even if the beards were still stuck together.” He paused, wondering how the two Father Christmases would react to his next suggestion: “I could get the scissors…” he said tentatively. There was silence. Grumbo and Rhodri looked at one another. “Your beards would grow again, wouldn’t they?” Then he added hopefully: “I wouldn’t have to cut them all off. Just the bit that’s stuck. I expect they’d look alright after a trim,” he concluded encouragingly.
Grumbo looked at Rhodri.
Rhodri looked at Grumbo.
“I don’t like that idea,” said Grumbo, firmly. “Maybe if we put some oil on them it might loosen the glue.” His eye was on the oil can sitting on the shelf where Percy had replaced it.
“Ert erth mm ry,” agreed Rhodri.
“It’s worth a try?” Percy translated. Rhodri nodded. Percy lifted the oil can. There wasn’t a lot left in it. “You’ll have to sit down,” he said. “I can’t reach otherwise.”
Nanny Christmas coming through the door, was confronted by the sight of the two Father Christmases sitting on the floor in their socks before the boiler, covered all over in strips of coloured tape, while Percy stood in his ribbon bedecked pyjamas pouring engine oil over their joint beard.
The Wrong Night Page 8
