“Finders keepers!” said Bruce.
“Bruce, Chuck, this is Slumdoggy Dog,” said Smo. “He knows everything that goes on in this city.”
“I like to keep my ear to the ground,” said the dog. “In fact, that’s how I lost half of this one, a rickshaw ran over it. Still, it all helps with the look.” He laughed wheezily. “So, what do you want to know?”
“Your lead was right,” said Smo. “The Eye of the Monkey has been stolen, and the thief performed the Indian Rope Trick. Do you have any idea who that could be?”
“There’s only one man in the whole of India who can do that,” said Slum. “A magician called Ali Up. He’s based in Agra.”
“Sounds like our thief,” said Chuck. “Where can we find him?”
“He has a theater in town,” said Slum.
“Then we must pay him a visit,” said Chuck. “I’ll call Donnie and Jet to let them know to meet us there.”
* * *
When neither Donnie nor Jet answered their phones, Chuck left a message. Then Slumdoggy Dog took them to Ali Up’s theater, which turned out to be a run-down building in the middle of town. Outside, a couple of men were putting up a sign that read: ALI UP’S THEATER OF ILLUSION. Standing below the sign, shouting up at the men, was a short man with a neat beard, wearing purple robes and a turban.
“A little up on the left,” shouted the man. “That’s good. This new sign should really draw in the crowds. Everyone will want to see the amazing Ali Up!”
“That’s him,” said Slum.
“Why is he talking about himself like he’s somebody else?” asked Bruce.
“Sounds like he has a high opinion of himself,” said Chuck.
“It is often the way with humans lacking in actual height,” Smo observed.
“It’s lucky that’s not true of the animal kingdom, or we’d have an army of dormice set on taking over the world,” said Slum. “Anyway, as much fun as it’s been hanging out with you, I must be off. I don’t want to miss out on this afternoon’s tour buses.”
“Thank you for your help,” said Chuck.
“Anytime,” Slum replied, with a wag of his tail. “See ya!”
As Slumdoggy Dog headed off, Chuck led the way around the side of the theater to a back door.
“Bruce and I will go inside and try to find out whether Ali Up still has the emerald. Smo, would you wait here in case the others arrive?”
“Of course,” the llama replied.
Chuck and Bruce slipped through the door into the building. They made their way along the corridor to some steps that led to the side of the stage. Red cloth curtains with gold piping hung down from the ceiling and the whole stage was full of mirrors. Bruce looked at his reflection.
“Hey, look, Chuck, there are loads of me.”
“After all that curry, there is indeed a lot of you,” said Chuck, who was examining a plain red wardrobe in the center of the stage. “Ah, a vanishing box.”
“A what?”
“A vanishing box. The magician shuts himself inside it, then, with a dramatic puff of smoke, he disappears.”
They stepped inside the box to take a closer look.
“What does this lever do?” asked Bruce, reaching up to pull it.
“Don’t do tha—”
There was a puff of smoke and the floor beneath their feet fell away. The two meerkats tumbled through the air and landed just in time to see a lid slam shut above them. They were trapped in a large box, the only light spilling in through some slits in the sides.
“What’s going on?” Bruce roared.
“Who are you that would trespass on the property of the great Ali Up?” said a voice nearby. A human eye appeared at one of the slits. “Ah, the Clan of the Scorpion, I presume. The Ringmaster warned Ali Up that you might turn up. And you have fallen straight into Ali Up’s trap!”
“You really do talk funny,” growled Bruce.
“So you are another of the Ringmaster’s hapless circus goons,” said Chuck. “And the thief of the precious Eye of the Monkey.”
“Ali Up works for no one but himself!” cried the magician. “The Ringmaster paid me to steal the jewel for him because he knew only Ali Up was up to such a task. And he will pay even more for this delivery than he did for the Eye.”
“Not if I’ve got anything to do with it. Bruce Force!” Bruce cried. He thrust all his weight against the lid of the box, trying to push it off. But nothing he did had any effect.
Ali Up laughed. “You cannot escape. This box is sealed … just like your fates.”
“For your own sake, I suggest you let us go. The Ringmaster is several cards short of a full deck and not someone you should deal with,” said Chuck.
“No one tells Ali Up what to do,” the magician replied. “I will take you to the Ringmaster’s circus tent and see what he will pay for you.”
Circus tents are supposed to be filled with eager spectators awaiting all kinds of exciting entertainment. But as the lights dimmed in the black-and-red striped tent on the outskirts of Agra, there was no audience to witness the imposing figure in the top hat step into the spotlight and raise the microphone to his lips. He tapped it twice before speaking. This was a dress rehearsal with a difference.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…” The Ringmaster’s voice echoed around the empty tent. “Tonight, for your viewing pleasure, we will amaze and delight you with some breathtaking feats. First up, a performer with four of them … it’s Doris the Dancing Dog!”
Doris fox-trotted into the central arena, dragging a bag that clanked behind her.
“Next … they put the ‘OW’ into clown. It’s Sheffield and Grimsby!”
The two clowns walked onto the stage, pushing an enormous wheel on a stand.
“Tonight, they’ll be assisting a new member of our troupe. All the way from Berlin, Germany, and a cut above the rest—Herr Flick!”
Another spotlight revealed the knife-thrower, his daggers glinting menacingly.
“And let’s not forget his two targets. For one night only—because that’s as long as they’ll last—Jet Flashfeet and Donnie Dragonjab!”
The clowns turned the wheel around to reveal Jet and Donnie tied to opposite sides.
“You don’t scare us,” said Jet, trying to wriggle free.
Herr Flick threw his first dagger. It landed straight between Jet’s legs.
“Speak for yourself,” yelped Donnie.
The Ringmaster’s laughter echoed around the empty tent. “Also … tonight’s special guest. All the way from his theater across town, Agra’s finest magician, Ali Up! He will be performing the Sword Box Illusion.”
The bearded magician straightened his purple robes and strode onto the stage carrying a large box, which he placed on a table.
“Oh, that sounds fun,” said Bruce’s voice from inside the box.
“I suspect it will not be fun for us,” replied Chuck’s voice.
“Chuck! Bruce! Is that you?” cried Jet.
“I was hoping you two were going to turn up and rescue us,” shouted Donnie.
“We were thinking the same thing about you,” Chuck responded.
“Er, I tell you what, in a minute you meerkats are going to be like four little saints,” said Sheffield.
“Four little saints?” asked Grimsby.
“Holy,” said Sheffield. There was a pause. “As in full of holes,” he explained.
“Quiet!” snapped the Ringmaster. He continued his announcement. “And once we have rid ourselves of these interfering meerkats, and with the Eye of the Monkey in my possession, I will be UNDEFEATABLE!” He laughed maniacally. “Let’s get on with the show. Ali Up, take it away!”
“The great Ali Up will now thrust the first sword into the box.…”
Doris fetched a sword from the bag she had carried on stage. The magician chose his spot, then plunged the weapon into the box.…
At that precise moment, Donnie cried, “Incoming, lengthways, down center!”
Inside the box, Chuck and Bruce dived out of the way, just avoiding the blade as it shot between them.
“Spin the wheel,” cried the Ringmaster. “That should keep Flashfeet and Dragonjab out of trouble.”
Sheffield and Grimsby turned the wheel as fast as they could.
“Herr Flick, do your worst,” exclaimed the Ringmaster.
Herr Flick took aim. His cold, blue eyes focused on the yellow blur of Jet’s jumpsuit as he spun around on the wheel.
“I forgot to mention that Herr Flick has never missed a target,” said the Ringmaster.
“That’s good to know,” said Jet.
There are some moments in life when all you can do is shut your eyes and hope for the best. One of these moments is when you find yourself tightly bound to a spinning wheel while an expert knife-thrower is aiming at your chest. And so Jet and Donnie shut their eyes and hoped for the best. But just as Herr Flick released his weapon, someone pushed him from behind. The knife veered off course, missing Jet’s chest, but slicing through the rope that bound his right arm to the wheel. Quickly, he wriggled free. Now, to help the rest of the Clan!
“Ach, that is not fair! Someone pushed me!” complained Herr Flick. He turned around to find a dreadlocked llama behind him, his bad hind leg raised.
“Well, well, it turns out I can still do the Lightning Spin Kick.” Smo Ka smiled.
“Smo!” cried Chuck from inside the box. “How did you find us?”
“When I saw Ali Up leave his theater, I guessed you were in the box he was carrying, and followed,” Smo replied.
“The Delhi Llama,” snarled the Ringmaster. “I might have known you’d be involved. Clowns, finish this old donkey.”
As Sheffield and Grimsby approached, a voice behind them said, “I may have four hooves, but watch who you’re calling a donkey.”
They spun around. No one was there. Quick as a flash, Smo leaped into the air, spread his front two hooves and knocked the clowns unconscious.
“He’s throwing his voice, you idiots!” cried the Ringmaster. “Doris, get this lame llama. And Ali Up, I’ll double what I’m paying you if you help.”
Doris growled and stepped forward. Balancing on his one good hind leg, Smo made a humming noise. Doris lunged forward, but Smo hopped over her head and landed on her back, pinning Doris to the ground. But the dancing dog was not finished yet. She turned and bit down on Smo’s bad leg, making him cry out in pain. Ali Up lunged towards the llama, and speedily tied a rope to his weaker leg.
“No one gets the better of Ali Up!” he cried. “Shim shala bing!” The rope shot into the air, leaving Smo suspended upside down.
“Hey, he raised the Smo Ka Llama,” said Grimsby, coming to.
“Smoke alarm,” chortled Sheffield. “Nice one, Grimsby.”
Still dazed, the clowns tried to stand up, tripped over their own huge feet, and landed in a heap on the floor again.
The Ringmaster sighed. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for Ali Up and the legendary Indian Rope Trick,” he announced.
“I’m sorry, my ninja friends,” Smo sighed. “It seems my attempt to help has been suspended. As have I.”
“Your bravery was not in vain, and the distraction was welcome,” said Chuck. “We are ready to take back the jewel.”
The Ringmaster spun around to find the four ninja meerkats standing behind him. A flicker of surprise crossed his face. Then he said, “Ha! Come and get me!”
The meerkats bowed to each other.
“Before the Clan, each enemy cowers, for now we fight till victory is ours!” cried Chuck.
“All right,” said Bruce. “Bruce Force!”
“Ninja-boom!” cried Jet.
The two meerkats flung themselves at the Ringmaster’s chest … and bounced off him like two rubber balls off a brick wall.
“He has the protection of the jewel,” said Smo. “He must have it on him now.”
“The llama is right,” exclaimed the Ringmaster. “I cannot be harmed. But the same cannot be said of you meerkats.”
Herr Flick flung two knives at Chuck, who drew his sword and batted them away with lightning speed. The daggers sped on through the air, tearing through Ali Up’s turban and one of his sleeves, and pinning him to the spinning wheel. “Release Ali Up at once!” the magician demanded.
“No matter what you throw at us, you shall not win,” said Chuck.
“We’ll see about that—bring in the heavies!” said the Ringmaster, cracking his whip.
The ground shook as two huge elephants stepped into the tent, their trunks raised.
“Behold! Two specially trained Indian elephants capable of shooting water from their trunks at thirty miles an hour,” said the Ringmaster. “I call them my Elephantastics!”
“He’s not joking, Chuck,” said Donnie. “These two dumbos knocked us out earlier.”
“Quick! In front of the wheel,” Chuck commanded. The meerkats leaped into position.
Chuck turned to the Ringmaster. “Now you cannot get us without also hitting Ali Up.”
The Ringmaster threw back his head and laughed. “You think I care about this cheap conjuror? He has served his purpose. I have no further use for him. Elephantastics, knock them all out!”
As water blasted across the stage, the meerkats dived in different directions, leaving Ali Up to take the brunt of the powerful jets. The great wheel shattered into pieces under the force of the spray.
On the other side of the stage, the clowns had finally gotten to their feet. “Sheffield! Grimsby! Help the Elephantastics!” the Ringmaster ordered.
“We must split up,” said Chuck. “Jet and Bruce, fend off the clowns. Donnie, find a way to stop the elephants’ firing.”
“I’m already on it,” replied Donnie.
Jet and Bruce ran in opposite directions, barely managing to stay ahead of the gushing water as they battled the clowns. Chuck grabbed a piece of the wheel to use as a shield from Herr Flick’s flying knives.
Protected behind Chuck’s shield, Donnie pulled a device made out of old tin cans from his backpack.
“I call this my bazoo-CAN,” he said. “I just need some ammunition the right size to block those trunks.”
At that moment, two large nuts, nibbled into the shape of bullets, dropped from the ceiling and landed at Donnie’s feet. “What the…?” said Donnie, picking them up. He and Chuck raised their heads and saw the three Shaolin Monkeys climbing in through the hole in the center of the tent’s roof.
“Shaolin surprise!” cried Turbold, dropping down onto Sheffield’s shoulders and bashing his ears.
The Ringmaster roared with anger.
“We are the Shaolin Monkeys and we are here to return the Eye to its rightful place,” screeched Brother Bataar, knocking Grimsby to the floor.
“Elephantastics, aim at those gate-crashing monkeys!” yelled the Ringmaster.
“Catch us if you can,” goaded Kamil.
“Donnie, I believe it is time to pack their trunks,” said Chuck.
“Just what I was thinking,” replied Donnie. He loaded the nuts into the bazoo-CAN, stepped out from behind the shield, took aim, and fired.
The nuts cut through the air with terrifying speed, zoomed through the water jets, and up the elephants’ trunks. Instantly, the flow of water stopped. The elephants blew harder, trying to get rid of the blockage, but their trunks merely swelled up. Then they both turned an alarming shade of red and passed out with two earth-shaking thuds.
“Nooo! My Elephantastics!” the Ringmaster bellowed. “The rest of you—wipe out these monkeys and extinguish these meerkats!”
The ninja meerkats and Shaolin Monkeys were now fighting side by side. Brother Bataar got hold of Doris’s tail while Bruce grabbed her by the collar, and together they flung her into the clowns.
“Get the Ringmaster,” ordered Chuck. “He has the Eye.”
Kamil grabbed a handful of nuts from his pouch. He shoved them into his mouth and
fired them at the Ringmaster, but each one bounced off without making the slightest impact.
The Ringmaster laughed, a mad glint in his eye.
Smo, who was still hanging upside down at the top of the rope, cried out, “Warriors! No weapon can harm he who holds the Eye of the Monkey. The only way is to part the man from the jewel.”
“But where is it?” said Jet.
“I believe that, like most people with secrets, he is keeping this one very much under his hat,” replied Smo.
“Curse you, you old fool,” cried the Ringmaster, cracking his whip across Smo’s back.
“Hey, you can’t do that to the Delhi Llama,” snarled Jet. “You’ll pay for that.” With the other meerkats busy fighting the rest of the circus, he turned to Turbold and whispered, “Prepare to grab the jewel.”
“But how? The Eye will protect him from any attack,” replied Turbold.
“Not one that isn’t intended to hurt him,” said Jet. “One, two, three … Ninja-boom!”
Moving faster than the blink of an eye, Jet leaped high in the air, and for the first time ever, performed the legendary Lightning Spin Kick, knocking the Ringmaster’s hat off his head. Before he had time to react, Turbold leapfrogged over the Ringmaster’s head, grabbing the exposed jewel as he went.
“Shaolin-boom!” he cried, holding the Eye up in the air.
“Hey, keep your monkey paws off my catchphrase,” protested Jet.
“Circus troupe, catch that monkey!” bellowed the Ringmaster. “He has the Eye!”
Herr Flick turned and flung a knife at Turbold. It bounced off him and the Ringmaster had to duck to avoid it. “The monkey can’t be harmed, you idiots,” he said. “You have to take the stone from him.”
Faithful as ever, Doris leaped up and snatched the jewel in her teeth.
“Good dog, Doris,” said the Ringmaster.
“Oh no, you don’t,” yelled Bruce. He launched himself at her … and bounced straight off again. However, his attack distracted Doris long enough for Donnie to grab his fishing rod device and yank the Eye from her jaws.
The Eye of the Monkey Page 3