by Larry Mark
Chapter 3
Eventually we get back to the playroom. After our glorious victory over Prince Stupid’s robotic hordes... well over Frank at least... we’re all tired but elated. There’s not much time before we have to take our positions for the day but the lads flop down and start to discuss the night’s highlights.
“That bit where I pulled Frank’s head off!” Gobber slaps his knee.
“I pulled the robot’s head off!” Jabber slaps Gobber’s knee.
“No I ripped-” I stop mid-lie, suddenly aware that I’m being stared at from the corner. The sort of hard stare that bores into the back of your neck like a power drill.
I run over at once. “Fluffy! I’m so sorry! I forgot all about you!”
Fluffy stays stock-still, giving me the silent treatment and continuing to glare at me. Nobody does it better. To be honest, I can’t see her eyes but you can always tell when it’s that kind of stare.
Fluffy is my dog. I found her under the sofa ages ago. She’s the absolute best dog ever. Even Captain Bort says she’s sweet. At first I kept her because I felt sorry for her because of the Terrible Accident. But it didn’t take long to realise Fluffy’s true worth and now I depend upon her.
The Terrible Accident happened ages ago, even before I arrived at Castle Thurgo. This was way back, before The Christmas. In those days Princess Pukey didn’t have any teeth at all and could hardly crawl. Even so she managed to corner Fluffy in a... corner. Gobber says it happened in the hall, Oooof claims it was the downstairs toilet. Anyhow, Princess Pukey gave Fluffy a vicious sucking and she’s never been quite the same since. Not that I know what Fluffy was like before Princess Pukey caught her. In any event, the end result was that Fluffy lost her front leg on the right. Which is pretty bad when you’re a dog. Also the front leg on the left. And her hind legs, tail, ears, nose... well, she’s lost a lot of stuff but her heart’s in the right place. Probably. She’s a bit oval for a dog but she has a really nice fluffy coat, slightly minty smell, and she’s very loyal. I take her everywhere. Even on missions! Except when it’s raining. Or when I forget.
“Stop playing with the humbug #247 and get into position!” Captain Bort barks across the toy room. All the others call her ‘the humbug’ too, and that’s really rude. It’s her species, not her name. It’s the same as having an ogre in the group and calling him ‘the ogre’ rather than Dave just cos he’s the only one. She’s _a_ humbug, not _the_ humbug, and her name is Fluffy. Jabber says it’s not the same because all ogres are called Dave, but I think he’s missing the point.
I hold my hands out wide to settle Fluffy – she can be awful mean – rip your throat right out... probably. “Sorry! Sorry! Next time. I promise.” And I hurry back to take position. The sun’s been up a while and High Queen Claire will be down the stairs soon, blundering around as if blind and calling out for coffee.
“Remember to take Fluffy,” I say to myself as I run. I pause to smack my forehead. That normally helps the memory stick. It was probably best that I hadn’t taken her on the last mission anyhow. I have to carry her and it can be awkward sometimes. I doubt I would have ripped Frank’s head off quite so well if I’d had Fluffy under one arm...
It’s not that she can’t get about on her own. She turns up everywhere. In the TV room, under the fridge, by the bin, with the shoes in the hall... all over. It’s just that nobody ever sees her do it. So whenever anyone is watching I have to carry her.
“Minion!” Captain Bort yells.
“Yessir!” And I lie down in my spot.