The Galactic Goal (Geronimo Stilton Spacemice #4)

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The Galactic Goal (Geronimo Stilton Spacemice #4) Page 3

by Geronimo Stilton


  Oh, Sally is such a

  fascinating mouse! Was

  she really talking about

  me? I guess there were no

  other

  captains around . . .

  I knew only one thing for

  sure — I absolutely couldn’t

  let Sally down today!

  As we approached the stadium, we

  began to hear a buzzing. It grew LOUDER

  and

  LOUDER

  and

  LOUDER

  ,

  until we finally arrived inside the giant

  stadium. It was packed, and the fans were

  cheering like crazy!

  Seven rings of seats SURROUNDED

  the field, and they were full of aliens of all

  kinds.

  Benjamin hugged me ENTHUSIASTICALLY.

  “Wow!”

  I swallowed— my throat suddenly felt

  drier than the SAND on the lunar desert.

  I hadn’t realized that thousands of eyes

  (or even more than that, since some aliens

  each had a dozen eyes on their heads) would

  be watching us play! Walking out onto the

  field, I tried to concentrate on the ONLY

  eyes I cared about: Sally’s!

  Today’s starting lineup included me, Sally,

  Benjamin, Lionel, the Tailtwister twins, and

  Whiskerkicks.

  I was so deep in thought, I didn’t realize

  that the game had begun and someone

  had passed me the ball! Before I could blink,

  an attacker for the GELATINIX team stole

  it out from under my paws and ran toward

  our goal, easily kicking it into the net.

  I looked like such a

  FOOL

  — we hadn’t

  even been playing for a minute!

  Grandfather William yelled from the

  sidelines, “

  HEY, CHEESEBRAIN!

  WAKE UP!

  ”

  I knew I had to make up for my mistake. So

  From the Encyclopedia Galactica

  THE GELATINIX

  These are the inhabitants of the

  planet Blobbix. They are very good

  at wriggling and swerving around

  players. Opponents must be extra

  careful of the slippery drool that

  the gelatinix leave on the field!

  Victory!

  when the game started again, I sprinted up

  to the ball. But three aliens surrounded

  me immediately!

  Panicked, I kicked the ball as hard as I

  could. The

  BALL

  took a funny bounce,

  but Sally headed it in the air and passed it

  to Lionel, who scored a tying goal! It was

  1-1!

  For the rest of the game, we were able

  to keep the score tied. During the last

  minute of play, Lionel darted forward,

  PLAYED the ball off an opponent’s

  head, and used a super-turbo kick to score

  a galactic goal. It was 2-1!

  The referee whistled

  to signal the end of the

  game.

  WE HAD WON!

  ADVENTURES IN

  RECREATRON

  After the game, our team decided to take a

  walk

  around Recreatron, the capital city of

  Athletica.

  After a few minutes, we noticed that a

  group of

  ALIENS

  in the main square was

  pointing at us. One of them came up with

  a STRANGE device in his hand

  and spoke to me in an incomprehensible

  language.

  “Sdhf bfh sgxrd asaainf djf?”

  “Um ... Robotix, can you translate?” I asked.

  My ears felt like they were stuffed with cheese!

  “Of course, Captain!” Robotix replied. “It

  is Bobbonese, a spoken language —”

  “Yes, yes, but what are they SAYING?”

  I interrupted. (When Robotix begins

  explaining something, he never stops!)

  “The taller alien says that they are fans

  of soccerix and would like to take a

  photologram of —”

  A photologram? That is a special

  three-dimensional photograph that includes

  an autograph! No one had ever asked to

  take a photologram of me before!

  I accepted enthusiastically. “Of course!

  Tell them yes!”

  “But, Captain, they don’t —”

  I waved my paw. “Respond, Robotix! Let’s

  not be rude!”

  “GJTEVKF BJFJHK!” Robotix

  exclaimed.

  I began to pose, ready for the photologram,

  but . . .

  HUH?

  Bjfjk,

  Linnel!

  *

  *

  “Thanks, Lionel!”

  in Bobbones

  Lionel

  Ratessi

  The alien who had spoken was headed

  toward Lionel!

  The alien pressed a button, and the device

  let out a BLUE RAY OF LIGHT.

  A moment later, a

  three-dimensional

  image of Lionel

  appeared in the air,

  with his autograph

  just below it.

  Seeing my confused

  face, Robotix explained,

  “Captain, if you had let

  me FINISH translating, I

  would have explained that the alien

  wanted to take a photologram of Lionel

  Ratessi — not of you!”

  I had made a stellar fool of myself . ..

  again!

  I was about to say something when I

  spotted two strange figures out of the

  corner of my eye. I thought I had seen them

  before! Were they

  SPYING

  on us from the

  shadows?

  A moment later, Benjamin called to me to

  keep walking. When I turned to look back,

  the figures had disappeared. Cheesy comets,

  what a mystery!

  FLYING RIVALS

  The next day, we woke up full of

  ENERGY

  .

  When we arrived on the field for our game,

  we were ready to give it our all!

  But then our opponents, the WINGOIDS,

  entered. They were huge, tall aliens— with

  WINGS!

  “A-ARE W-WE SURE WE WANT

  TO PLAY?” I muttered to Trap. My

  whiskers were trembling with fright.

  Trap rolled his eyes. “Geronimo, you’re

  not scared of the wingoids, are

  you?”

  Before I could reply, the whistle blew,

  and Trap

  ran

  toward the ball. The game

  had begun — I couldn’t back out now!

  Today’s starting lineup consisted of me,

  From the

  Encyclopedia

  Galactica

  THE WINGOIDS

  These inhabitants of the

  planet Featherflap are large,

  muscular aliens. Even if the

  rules of soccerix don’t

  officially allow it, they

  always try to dribble the

  ball while flying!

  Trap, Sally, Lionel, the Tailtwisters, and our

  goalie, Whiskerkicks.

  I ran to the

  middle

  of the field, where

  Sally dribbled around a wingoid who was

  trying to

  STEAL

  the ball from he
r.

  I gathered my courage and squeaked,

  “Sally, pass it to me!”

  It's

  all

  yours!

  I've

  got

  iiiiit!

  swooosh

  Sally heard me and passed the BALL

  with an elegant move of her foot. I darted

  forward and yelled, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!

  I’ve got iiiiit . . .”

  I must have MISCALCULATED,

  though, because instead of kicking the ball,

  I tripped on it ... and ended up

  sprawled out flat on the field like a Parmesan

  pancake.

  While I was trying to get up, the largest

  wingoid player got control of the ball. With

  a quick flap of his wings, he took off,

  flying just above the field while keeping the

  ball on the ground. He ended up in front of

  our goal and was about to kick the ball into

  the net when the

  ROBOT-REF

  whistled.

  “Flying is not allowed on the field!”

  HOLEY CRATERS! WE LUCKED OUT

  THAT TIME!

  After that, Bugsy came into the game.

  She was able to quickly slip past two

  opponents, make her way toward their goal,

  and pass the ball to Lionel. He wriggled

  between the legs of a wingoid and scored!

  It was 1-0!

  The wingoids played hard, trying to tie

  things up, but we managed to keep them

  from scoring.

  The game was almost over, and I was

  SO

  TIRED

  . My legs felt like they were

  filled with moon rocks. Stumbling on my

  tired paws, I missed a pass. Oh no —a

  WINGOID got the ball and moved toward

  our goal!

  When David Tailtwister got in his way, the

  WINGOID tried to scare him by suddenly

  opening his giant wings. But David wasn’t

  intimidated. He blocked the shot!

  A moment later, the robot-ref called

  the end of the game.

  The

  spacemice

  had won again!

  “Tomorrow we’ll play against the

  RUBBERLIANS. If we win, we’ll

  be in the finals!” Lionel exclaimed.

  The rubberlians were small, round, and

  seemingly HARMLESS aliens. I figured

  they wouldn’t be hard to beat!

  But oh, I was wrong . . .

  From the

  Encyclopedia Galactica

  THE RUBBERLIANS

  These are the inhabitants of

  the planet Boing. They are

  soft, round aliens. On the

  soccerix field, they roll quickly

  from one corner to another,

  disorienting their opponents.

  WE’RE A TEAM!

  When thinking about our next game, I hadn’t

  accounted for the rubberlians’ special skill:

  BOUNCING

  !

  As soon as the robot-ref blew the whistle

  to start the game, some of the rubberlians

  changed shape. They tucked in their arms

  and legs and began to ROLL really fast down

  the field, passing the ball as they went!

  Crusty space cheese —before I knew it,

  the rubberlians had scored two goals!

  When our team gathered in the locker

  room during half time, we were all feeling

  dejected

  .

  “Uncle Geronimo, we’re going to lose this

  time, aren’t we?” Benjamin asked sadly.

  I LOOKED AROUND at my

  teammates and thought about what to

  say. After the first two games, soccerix

  didn’t seem so bad. Actually, it was fun!

  Of course, it involved a lot of running,

  and facing frightening opponents,

  but I had learned something important — I

  could always count on my teammates to

  protect my fur.

  Maybe it was time for the TEAM

  CAPTAIN to give a speech!

  So I cleared my throat and said, “Yes,

  Benjamin, maybe we will lose. But that’s not

  what’s important! What’s

  IMPORTANT

  is giving your all in the game and not

  forgetting that you aren’t alone on the field.

  We can all count on one another,

  because we’re a team!”

  For once, Grandfather William nodded

  with satisfaction.

  When the second half of the game

  began, we took the field like a different

  team. We were united and full of

  ENTHUSIASM!

  And that’s how we managed to score

  three goals: BUGSY made the first one by

  bumping the ball with her head, LIONEL

  made the second one with a kick over the

  heads of the defenders, and Benjamin

  slid the third goal around the goalie with

  some fancy footwork. We won 3-2!

  No one could stop the spacemice!

  A QUEASY

  ENCOUNTER

  As we were celebrating our latest mouserific

  victory, my wrist phone rang. Beep! Beeep!

  Beeeep!

  It was Thea calling from MouseStar 1 to

  congratulate us and tell us that everyone on

  the ship had been watching the game. They

  were having an enormouse

  party

  in

  our honor!

  I was filled with pride. Now I couldn’t

  wait to play in the final game!

  As we

  LEFT

  the stadium, though,

  my happiness vanished like a cosmic

  cheese platter under Trap’s snout. The

  zomborgs— who we’d be facing in the

  SOCCERIX

  FIELD

  STADIUM ENTRANCE

  final game— planted themselves in front of

  us threateningly.

  Even though deep, deep down those

  creatures filled me with fright,

  I gathered my courage and stood up

  tall. “Hello, zomborgs,” I said. “I am the

  captain of the spacemice, and —”

  “I know who you are,” one of the zomborgs

  interrupted me.

  “Oh?” I asked, surprised. “Well, all

  right—good luck in the final! MAY

  THE BEST TEAM WIN!”

  “You mean us, you mousey microbes,”

  responded the biggest zomborg. Stellar

  Swiss, he almost knocked me out with his

  PUTRID BREATH! “It will be a horrible

  final for you!” he concluded. His friends

  burst out laughing as they all stormed off.

  “What terrible creatures!” Sally

  commented, wrinkling her snout.

  And what

  TERRIBLE

  breath!

  I sighed. “It won’t be an

  easy game. Those aliens seem

  like they’ll do whatever it takes

  to win.”

  “At least we have our secret

  weapon —Lionel!” said Trap

  with a grin.

  Lionel

  proudly

  chimed in. “Those

  ALIENS don’t scare me! They’re big, but

  they’re slow. If we can keep the ball close

  to the ground, I’m sure WE CAN BEAT

  THEM!”

  Then Trap suggested, “Let’s go into the

  city and celebrate today’s victory!
I spotted

  a place where they make excellent four-

  cheese shakes and —”

  Grandfather William’s voice stopped

  Trap midsentence. “No one is going

  anywhere, Grandson! Tomorrow morning

  we have to be up bright and early to

  TRAIN for the final game. So now it’s

  time for all of you to get ready for bed!”

  Oh, it was cosmically hard to be an athlete!

  For a minute, I had forgotten that in order

  to win, we needed to practice!

  A MISSING

  MOUSE

  At eight o’clock the next morning, we

  all had to be out on the field, ready for our

  final day of practice.

  The alarm clock blared in my ears.

  Cosmic cheese rinds! I leaped out of bed, but

  it was hard for me to stay on my paws —I

  had a terrible headache!

  “I don’t think that super-protein berry

  puree that

  Squizzy

  made us last night is

  agreeing with me,” I said to Trap as he yawned

  and stretched. “My head is pounding!”

  “I have a

  galactic

  headache

  , too,”

  he said with a groan. “It must be the stress

  of the final game.”

  We rushed to

  put on our

  soccerix

  uniforms and

  headed to the

  breakfast room.

  Squizzy, who

  could hardly keep

  his three eyes open, was waiting for

  us with some algae. Yuck! What I wouldn’t

  have given for a mozzarella milkshake!

  A few minutes later, Benjamin arrived.

  “Good morning, Uncle. Ugh—I have an

  out-of-this-world headache this morning!”

  He looked around the room. “Is Lionel with

  you?”

  I scratched my snout. “No . . . why?”

  Benjamin FROWNED. “When I woke

  up, he wasn’t in his bed.”

  “He must be around here somewhere,” I

  said. “I’ll call him!” I turned on my wrist

  phone.

  Beep! Beeep! Beeeep!

  No answer.

  “Hmmm, he’s not answering.

  Maybe he went for a walk. I’m sure he’ll

  be back soon,” I said, trying to reassure my

  nephew.

  Before long, the rest of the team had

 

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