The spiders wrapped Brian up in it at amazing speed, so Brian suddenly found himself covered in sticky spiderweb.
Shouting “Heave!” in their tiny spider voices, they hauled Brian up into the barn’s rafters and stuck him to the beams with extra gluey threads.
This was very strange and scary for Brian, but Claude stood just inside one of his elegant ears and whispered, “Be really still, Brian, and don’t make a sound. We will look after you. Don’t think about hundreds of spiders running up and down all over you.”
Naturally, this did make Brian think of hundreds of spiders running up and down all over him, so his fur stood up as if he had been struck by lightning while getting a perm. This made the spider threads stick to him even more and helped him stay safely on the ceiling when Pearlyclaws burst in and started searching for him. Pearlyclaws never looked up because he knew that llamas can’t fly or climb up onto roof beams.
Brian and the spiders didn’t make a sound and stayed perfectly still. (Brian couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to.) After what seemed like years and years, Pearlyclaws had stormed away.
This allowed the spiders to scamper down and cover the scissors in web. The metal was too heavy for them to lift, but they did manage to glue the blades firmly to the floor.
After that, the spiders all cheered. Then they swung back and forth on spider trapezes and sang their anthem:
The World Association
For the spiders of every nation
We sway, we swing
We swoop, we sing
Eight great feet
With a spider beat
We help and save
And are mostly brave
Yes! The Spider Association!
And after that, the spiders rested, hanging comfortably upside down, or tucking themselves into cracks and corners.
Outside was the crashing of Pearlyclaws searching the farm with growls and kicks.
Inside was the muffled and sticky voice of a llama with thread wrapped round his mouth.
“Excufe me, pleafe. May I met mown now?”
Brian was asking if he could get down now.
He was stuck firmly to the ceiling and that meant he was safe, but how could Brian save his friends when he was covered in web? And if the spiders unstuck him, wouldn’t he just fall onto the hard floor of the barn? Brian had knee pads and a parachute and all kinds of other safety equipment – but they were out of reach, safe inside his Safety Cupboard Number Three.
Brian sighed, “I will be very sore if I do hit the floor.” That rhymed, but it didn’t make Brian smile.
SECTION TWENTY-EIGHT
In which we find Miranda’s cave. Don’t touch anything – it will all be sticky and grimy and covered in soot and wickedness. This section also explains how Miranda and Pearlyclaws met. In case you were wondering.
Miranda Badger was back in the nasty, smoky den which had never really been her home. She was wearing tough, practical overalls and a big tool belt, because she was no longer pretending to be pretty. She had a lot of work to do, lifting and carrying and pushing.
And what was she lifting and carrying and pushing? Everything she’d taken from the farmhouse – including all the kitchen tiles and the doorknobs and the doors!
Miranda had always liked being wicked: stealing watches and bicycles, punching people in queues, slipping dog poo into people’s shopping bags and generally making sure everyone she met became as unhappy as possible. But she dreamed of being truly dreadful, a famously bad badger. She wanted people to write nursery rhymes about her and to put up Wanted posters showing her picture (taken from the left, which was her best side).
A few weeks before she met Bill, Miranda had been walking along a pebbly beach, bored and sad that there was no one around to kick or call names. Then she had seen a strange bottle glimmering on the sand.
She hoped it contained a genie to grant her some terrible wishes, but instead it contained a letter that was almost as good.
Or bad – depending on whether you’re an awful badger or not.
Pearlyclaws couldn’t spell and had no computer to help him inside the whale. And it took him ages to tickle the whale enough to spit out the bottle, so that someone would be ready to help him do disgusting and wicked things as soon as he escaped.
Miranda had waited for him and plotted with him and given his Speshul Cocoa to poor Bill. Now her den was full of everything from the farmhouse. The toilet was sitting in a corner like a disconnected throne, and Bill’s favourite quilt was all screwed up on the dirty floor. Miranda looked at her spoils and rubbed her paws together. “While Bill is full of Speshul Cocoa I will feed him Truth Potion and ask him about the hidden treasure that Uncle Shawn must have. Then I will steal it before Pearlyclaws can and then I will sell all this and he’ll get nothing.” Miranda wiggled her tail with glee.
That’s the trouble with being wicked and joining forces with other wicked people – you will probably be wicked to each other, as well.
Miranda hadn’t been able to find any treasure in the farmhouse (because it wasn’t there), and now she was furious. “That stupid, fat-legged badger better know where the treasure is,” she growled as she stamped about between stolen ornaments and stolen furniture. “I can’t dig up the whole farm – it would take weeks and ruin my pretty complexion.”
Her complexion was as pretty as a fish processing plant, but – as you know – liars lie to everyone, even themselves.
SECTION TWENTY-NINE
In which Bill is feeling much better! Hooray! But this section also contains an EMEMENCIA. And so it should probably also contain a Great Big Plan. I hope someone has one.
Back on the farm, Bill headed for Brian’s barn, because he thought he should check on his most nervous friend first.
It looked like the barn was empty, but then Bill heard a strange sound that stopped him.
“Ememencia! Bim Ememencia!”
“Hmm,” thought Bill. “It sounds as if Brian has his mouth full of toffee and is floating above me. But that’s impossible.”
But Bill looked up at the ceiling and there was Brian! All wrapped in web! And there, also, were hundreds and hundreds of very friendly but very spidery spiders.
“Aaaah!” yelped Bill. “What are you doing to Brian? Leave him alone, he is a wonderful, brave, lovely llama!”
This made Brian feel proud and happy and he wiggled his bottom in its silky trousers, because that was the only way he could say thank you.
Claude quickly bounced down on a thread and whispered in his spidery, tiny voice, “We were helping. We hid him in the ceiling, but now we can’t get him down again. Please help us.”
Bill was still a bit woozy. He thought of the problem of Brian stuck on the ceiling and the problem of strong sticky sheets of spider threads and the problem of Miranda and the problem of having no furniture and…
There were just so many problems!
But then, Bill’s clever badger face broke into a huge smile. “I think I have a plan!” All the excitement was shaking the last of the Speshul Cocoa out of his brain and, if he’d had time, he would have done the Dance of Badger Delight. “I think I have a plan so amazing that even Uncle Shawn would feel proud of it.” Bill stood up straight and tall and seemed to be almost back to his usual self. “I will push Brian’s straw bed right underneath him and then you spiders can gently release all of your threads.”
Brian tried to say, “That could go wrong, Señor Bill!” But the sticky web made it sound much more like, “Mat mood mow wong, Menor Mill!” So nobody understood.
“It’s all right Brian!” called Bill. “Be brave! And when you’re on the ground I will tell you about my plan. It’s a Great Big Plan to Defeat a Big Emergencia.”
Bill was so impressive that Brian stopped wriggling and feeling scared. This meant that the spiders could tickle him free of all the web and then help Bill slowly lower him to the floor. Brian even felt well enough to say, “Thank you, Señor and Señora Spiders. Gracia
s.”
SECTION THIRTY
In which we are running out of air! Oh no!
Sam thought the Hurrfoofurrhurrs were nice, even though they were keeping him and Uncle Shawn prisoner on the moon in case the terrible war started and they got hurt. One called Noof gave Sam and Uncle Shawn a big bowl of pudding which looked like the kind of shadow you’d find under a tree, but tasted like chocolate.
Uncle Shawn said, “Thank you very much.” Then he tickled Noof’s feet.
Sam thought this was rather strange.
“The Hurrfoofurrhurrs love being tickled,” explained Uncle Shawn. “For them it’s sort of the same as money. They and the Paafoofurrhurrs used to tickle and play and dance and sing every day, then gather up the wish energy from the Earth and make the best ones come true and make whatever was left over into the most marvellous hats in the whole universe. Everyone on the moon would get together on holidays and hold the Ceremony of the Hats and all swap hats and tickles. They used to have so much fun and be so happy.” He sighed. But then he nodded and concentrated on his plan. “Tickling is a really good way to distract the Hurrfoofurrhurrs while an invisible person is creeping about and doesn’t want to be caught leaving footprints in the moon dust.”
As Uncle Shawn spoke, Sam saw small footprints in the moon dust being swiped away, as if by invisible feet.
“Do you have a plan?” whispered Sam.
“Weeell…” Uncle Shawn whispered back. “Maybe I do. Please keep the other Hurrfoofurrhurrs busy here. Tickle them as if your life depends on it. It just might. If you can tickle them enough, they will fall asleep and you will be able to escape to talk to Queen Wufflebuffle of the Paafoofurrhurrs and try to get her to come to a Ceremony of the Hats one last time…” He whispered a bit more of his plan into Sam’s ear so that no one could hear it, not even us. Then he laughed and said, “And now I have to speak to King Foom.” While Sam was tickling as he had never tickled before, Uncle Shawn joined Foom, King of the Hurrfoofurrhurrs, in a foggy misty garden with shadowy blue and black trees and murky flowers.
Uncle Shawn began, “Surely if you were such good friends with all the Paafoofurrhurrs, why can’t you just all say sorry and start playing games and granting wishes and making hats again?”
“Never,” sighed Foom. “Even if we forgave them for whatever it was they did, they would never forgive us for whatever it was we did. I just know it. That queen of theirs would never forgive me, even if she is very nice and sweet and lovely.”
“Have you asked her?”
“Of course not. You don’t understand, Uncle Shawn. This is terrible, but we can’t do anything about it.”
Uncle Shawn looked down at the moon dust behind Foom. He could see the imprints of two feet which had followed him outside very quietly. He began to speak extra loudly and clearly, almost as if he was making sure someone called Sky understood his plan. “Well, King Foom. Before you begin to have a proper war, I think you should hold one last Ceremony of the Hats. Call the Hurrfoofurrhurrs together. Then Queen Wufflebuffle and her people can meet you and your people, the way you always used to.”
“Oh, she’d never agree to do that,” said Foom.
“We’ll see,” said Uncle Shawn and he grinned at the empty space where someone invisible was standing. “Then you can give each other hats, the way you always did, just one last time.”
Uncle Shawn rubbed his wibbly hair and hoped that his Save The Moon Plan was going to work before they all ran out of powdered air…
SECTION THIRTY-ONE
In which we find… Oh, dear – A MONSTER! EMERGENCIA!!!
Bill was whispering to Brian in the dark, “I’m sure this will be all right.”
Brian whispered back, “I do hope so.”
They tightened their knee pads and adjusted their life jackets, even though they weren’t at all sure they would help.
Through the hedge, they could hear Pearlyclaws kicking at lumps of grass and threatening rabbits and grinding his huge teeth. “Lazy, lily-livered llamas! Disappearing to annoy me! Blithering blasted badger! I won’t just ask him about buried treasure, I’ll scoop out his insides and make him into slippers!” Pearlyclaws was so annoyed he pulled off his false moustache and threw it away. Bill and Brian watched it flop over the hedge and land unpleasantly at their feet.
“That cowardly llama! I’ll have his nose if it’s the last nose I snip and then I’ll laugh at him and he will cry!” raged Pearlyclaws. “I’ll have my revenge on all of them, or my name isn’t Sylvester Pearlyclaws!”
“Oh, no!” whispered Bill. “It really is Sylvester Pearlyclaws! I hoped we had got rid of him forever.”
“This is a bigger Emergencia than we can deal with. I don’t think we will succeed,” mumbled Brian.
But then…
Many completely horrifying things took place.
Look away now, or lie down and hold on to your blanket.
As Bill and Brian trembled and Pearlyclaws rampaged across the grass and young rabbits bounced in all directions, the hedge at the corner of the meadow swayed and swelled and then—
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
A giant spider that was taller than a set of steps burst through the leaves and twigs and hissed and coughed and squeaked and wobbled four of its enormous sticky hairy legs, and trotted forward on another six of its (we would have to say) rather oddly shaped legs.
That made ten legs! A spider with ten legs must be the worst possible kind!
Spiders were the only thing that scared Pearlyclaws. Even being swallowed by a whale – and then being vomited out of a whale – had only made him a bit more annoyed than usual.
And this was a seven-foot tall, wobbly spider with knobbly knees! And it was chasing him!
Pearlyclaws was so frightened that his huge horse teeth flew out of his mouth, twirled in mid-air, bounced over a wall, rolled down a slope and finally ended up in the field where a very elderly horse called Patricia lived. She had lost her false teeth and couldn’t remember where. (She had taken them out and left them on a table when she was visiting a friend in the Horse Hospital and wanted to eat a hard toffee.)
She spotted these teeth with a pleased snort, tried them on and found they were a perfect fit. (In fact, they were hers.) Patricia wore them proudly for the rest of her life. Losing his teeth was the only good thing Pearlyclaws ever did for anyone.
Back on the farm, Pearlyclaws didn’t care a bit about having a gumsy mouth. He felt sick. This was his worst nightmare, come to life – a giant, angry spider. (And he had a feeling that somewhere a horse was very happy – that gave him a pain worse than indigestion.)
“Grrrrrrr. I am the Emperor of Spiders!” screeched the massive spider, waving what seemed to be two massive fangs in the air and staring at him through four big glassy eyes.
Pearlyclaws tried to shout, “No, no. Please spare me. I won’t do it again – whatever it was I did.” Without his teeth, it was, “Mo, mo. Mease smare me! I mon’t moo it amain – matever it mas mad I did.” Although he liked to seem fearless and strong, he was actually a complete scaredy-cat. “Meeeze!”
Then the Spider Emperor’s voice changed and sounded a bit Peruvian as it shouted, “You are cruel and wrong to everyone you meet. I will not stand for it!” The spider stood still and looked very impressive and some of its legs wriggled in a way that would have made you scream. “Leave now, or I will bite you with my fangs!”
Pearlyclaws shouted a toothless version of, “Oh, no. No biting!”
The monster rattled its fangs together so that they sounded like angry knitting needles and yelled, “¡Soy el Emperador de las Arañas! ¡Huir!”, which meant “I am the Emperor of Spiders! Run away!” in Spanish.
And Pearlyclaws ran away so fast you might have expected his trousers to catch fire.
While we wonder why that terrifying spider was speaking in English and Spanish and had fangs just like knitting needles, we must go back up to the moon.
SECTION THIRTY-TWO
In which Sam is very clever and brave.
Just as Uncle Shawn had planned, Sam tickled his Hurrfoofurrhurr guards until they fell into a happy, giggly sleep. Then he crept away and quickly crossed the border into Paafoofurrhurr territory. It wasn’t long before sentries caught him and took him just where he wanted to be – right inside the palace of Queen Wufflebuffle.
Sam had thought the sentries were shiny and sparkly and bright, but when the queen swept into her Hall of Examining Visitors, she was too bright to look at. If you had squashed the Milky Way into a milkshake it might have looked as dazzling as Wufflebuffle.
“Please, Your Worshipful Majesty,” said Sam, “King Foom would like you to do the Ceremony of the Hats one last time.”
“That’s a completely stupid idea,” Wufflebuffle said in a voice like xylophones and the little bells on the collars of a thousand cats. “Just like him to be so stupid.”
“Ah, but how clever of you it would be to take all your finest hats and make the Hurrfoofurrhurrs ashamed of theirs.”
“I won’t go!” Wufflebuffle stamped her foot with a shower of sparks like a furnace with indigestion.
Sam was very clever and knew what to say next. “Oh, well. Foom did tell me that you wouldn’t want to come because you were the most stubborn person he’d ever met.”
“Me?!” This sounded like milk bottles crashing down a mountain. “Me?! Stubborn?! I could show him – the silly fat face – I could just go to the border at once and be there before him. And all my people would bring the finest hats the universe has ever seen and he would be very impressed. I could do that now, if I really wanted.”
Sam tried not to giggle – he had nearly persuaded her. It would just take a little more work…
Uncle Shawn and Bill and the Not One Tiny Bit Lovey-Dovey Moon Adventure Page 7