‘You’re right,’ she said, holding her hands out in front of her like crab pincers. ‘What we need here is some good old-fashioned bum pinching!’
Zack frowned. He shouldn’t have been surprised anymore by anything that Gran did, but he was. In his collection of bum-fighter trading cards he recalled there had been a card that featured ‘The Pincher’—a fierce-looking woman who had hands like claws and fingernails so sharp they looked like they could be classified as lethal weapons. On the back of the card it had said that the Pincher was the founder of modern bum-fighting—the leader of the very first bum-fighting team, known as ‘Mabel’s Angels’.
Zack gulped.
His gran’s name was Mabel.
Zack looked at his gran and tried to match her up in his mind with the fierce image on the front of the trading card.
Could it be? he wondered. No, it was ridiculous.
Besides, the trading card biography had said that the Pincher had gone missing in action sometime in the ’40s.
Whoever she was, his gran was definitely not the Pincher.
And yet, Zack had to admit, she sure had the moves.
Gran closed in on the bums, crouched over and began a virtuoso display of pinching, her forefingers and thumbs working like shears.
In less than a minute she delivered an impressive range of eye-watering pinches: two-fingered pinches, five-fingered pinches, two-handed ten-fingered pinches. Pinches that cut. Pinches that bruised. Pinches that pulled the bums right out of shape. Pinches that, had Gran perpetrated them on any regular bums, would have caused instant death.
Whatever these bums were, however, they were not regular bums.
Just as they’d absorbed the punishment of the K-TEL three-six-zero PT-XR fourteen thousand and two point five HRH triple turbo automatic multi-speed bum-splitter/dicer and slicer, so they absorbed Gran’s pinches.
Gran was red in the face as she prepared to take on the bums again—but whether it was from anger or exhaustion Zack couldn’t tell.
‘All right,’ she said to the bums, ‘you asked for it!’
Gran scooped them up, and using her arms like a vice, she squeezed the three bums together so hard they looked like they were about to burst.
Zack cringed.
Gran curled the fingers of her right hand around and pinched one of the bums. It exploded with such force it set off a chain reaction and the other two blew apart as well.
‘Good one, Gran!’ shouted Zack, wiping large handfuls of zombie bum sludge off his body.
‘Ah, you can’t beat the old atomic pinch!’ said Gran, washing her hands in a small sink. ‘It’s messy but it gets the job done.’
‘But where did you learn to pinch like that, Gran?’ said Zack.
‘Well,’ said Gran, ‘it’s a long story . . .’
‘Zack!’ yelled Zack’s bum.
‘Not now!’ said Zack.
‘But it’s a bumergency!’ shouted Zack’s bum.
‘Who said that?’ said Gran.
‘My bum,’ said Zack.
‘There’s a bum in here?’ said Gran. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll pinch it!’
‘No!’ said Zack’s bum. ‘I’m on your side!’
Gran looked confused. ‘A bum on my side? That’s ridiculous!’ she said. ‘Hold still, Zack! I’ll have it pinched in no time.’
‘No!’ said Zack. ‘Aaagghhh!’
‘Aaagghhhh!’ screamed his bum.
‘Oh be quiet,’ said Gran. ‘Both of you! I haven’t even started yet.’
‘No,’ said Zack, pointing behind her. ‘That’s not what we’re screaming about . . . look at the zombie bums!’
Gran turned and looked.
The pieces of atomic-pinched bum were slowly creeping across the floor towards one another.
Merging.
Reforming.
Into three new bums!
Zack looked at Gran.
Gran looked at Zack.
Things were not looking good.
Gran’s zombie neighbours below them were not only bashing on the trapdoor, but were attacking the floor around it with their axe. It wouldn’t be long before they broke through.
And the bums that were already in the attic were apparently indestructible.
‘Zack,’ said Zack’s bum, ‘I hate to say it, but we’re not winning here.’
‘I know,’ Zack said. ‘Got any better ideas?’
‘Pray!’ said his bum, detaching itself, dropping to its knees and placing its hands in front of itself.
Zack shook his head. He didn’t know what to do exactly, but he was pretty sure praying wouldn’t help them.
Suddenly, however, the room was awash with light and the sound of screaming engines.
Zack, shielding his eyes from the light, looked up.
There was a bum-mobile hovering above them and coming through the broken dome was the end of a roll of reinforced toilet paper.
Zack was amazed.
‘Don’t just stare at it, you idiot!’ shouted an amplified voice from above. ‘Grab hold and climb!’
Now normally Zack wouldn’t have entrusted his life to a roll of toilet paper—not even reinforced toilet paper—but this was not a normal situation.
Zack looked around for Gran, grabbed her arm and put her on the toilet-paper ladder.
‘Thanks, soldier,’ she said. ‘You show courtesy towards your elders. I like that in a bum-fighter. It’s so rare, nowadays.’
Zack was about to explain that he wasn’t a bum-fighter, but decided that, under the circumstances, it could probably wait.
Gran hoisted herself up the toilet paper, as if she’d been doing it all her life.
Zack, keeping the bums away from the toilet paper with a combination of kicks and smacks, heard a noise behind him.
He saw the axe head break through the floor.
The zombies were almost in!
Zack turned.
‘Hurry, Gran!’ he called.
Finally Gran made it into the bum-mobile.
Zack grabbed the toilet paper and began pulling himself up, his bum reattaching itself just in time.
He was halfway up, being battered by the howling wind and the bums, when he heard miaowing.
‘Oh no,’ he said, seeing Mittens perched on the instrument panel of the control centre. ‘We forgot Mittens!’
‘Too bad,’ said his bum. ‘Keep climbing!’
‘No!’ said Zack. ‘We have to go back!’
‘Keep climbing!’ said his bum. ‘That’s an order!’
‘Yeah, and this is me disobeying it!’ said Zack, climbing back down the toilet paper.
Mittens was now surrounded by the bums. She was hissing and scratching, but the bums were closing in. Fortunately, however, they were all looking at Mittens and didn’t see Zack coming.
Without letting go of the toilet paper Zack reached down and scooped the terrified Mittens back into his jacket.
At that moment the zombies broke through the floorboards. Zack saw Mr Jenkins push the top half of his body up through the hole. Luckily the opening was too small for Mr Jenkins to fit his enormous bum through, although he was able to make a grab for Zack’s legs.
But Zack had already started climbing back up the toilet paper, even faster than before. He was almost halfway up again when the toilet paper ripped.
Whether it was the extra force Zack used, or the extra weight of Mittens, he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that somewhere above him the perforations had ripped. Not all the way through, but enough to cause him to drop dangerously low.
Zack climbed back up again, hoping against hope that the remaining perforations would hold.
One by one the tiny sections of paper ripped.
Zack inched closer.
The paper ripped again.
Zack gasped.
Then he had an idea.
He held Mittens up as far above his head as he could.
Mittens hooked her claws into a piece of toilet paper above the tear, and, de
monstrating unusual strength for a cat, began to pull Zack up with her.
Just as they were negotiating the ripped section, Zack smelt smoke. He looked down to see flames racing up towards him. Mr Jenkins, stuck in the hole, was holding a match in his hand. He had set fire to the toilet paper!
Flames were shooting up the paper ladder.
Faster than Zack and Mittens could climb.
‘Hurry!’ yelled Zack’s bum. ‘I’m burning up!’
Suddenly there was a huge explosion and a fireball shot back down the ladder and into the bum-fighting control centre.
‘How many times have I told you not to talk when there’s naked flame around?’ said Zack, smiling as he pulled himself up the last few squares of toilet tissue.
‘Oops,’ said Zack’s bum, smiling as well.
Zack felt Gran’s strong hand close around his wrist and pull him into the bum-mobile.
He saw Eleanor turn around from the pilot’s seat, frowning.
‘Eleanor!’ said Zack. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Following orders,’ said Eleanor. ‘Dad insisted I come and get you.’
‘But I’m not a bum-fighter,’ Zack said. ‘Not anymore. I quit!’
Eleanor snorted. ‘I’m well aware of that,’ she said. ‘This wasn’t my idea. I’m just doing what I’m told. Hold tight . . . and no throwing up!’
The bum-mobile took off at terrifying speed.
Zack looked out the window and saw the burning room they had just escaped from growing smaller and smaller. He looked at Gran, now using her formidable pinching fingers to gently scratch Mittens’ ears. He looked at his bum, wiping itself clean with a towel. And he looked at Eleanor—her face gritty and desperate.
Zack smiled.
He was back in the bum-fighting frontline and—he had to admit—loving it.
‘Well, it sure has been a while since I’ve flown in one of these,’ said Gran, leaning forward into the cockpit, still stroking Mittens.
‘No animals in the cockpit!’ said Eleanor sharply.
‘Sorry,’ said Gran, handing Mittens back to Zack. ‘Mind if I come through to the front and take a look?’
‘Sure,’ said Eleanor. ‘I don’t mind people. Just no cats. Too unpredictable.’
‘That’s what I reckon,’ said Zack’s bum. ‘In fact I think we should ban cats from the bum-mobile altogether.’
‘Quiet, you!’ said Gran. ‘In my day bums didn’t speak until they were spoken to.’
‘My bum’s a bit different,’ said Zack.
‘I never met a bum I couldn’t pinch into shape!’ said Gran.
‘You just did!’ muttered Zack’s bum. ‘Three of them.’
‘Hmmm . . .’ said Gran, studying Zack’s bum closely. ‘Cheeky. I don’t like that in a bum.’
Eventually she turned away and pulled herself through the entrance into the cockpit. ‘Mabel Freeman,’ she said, extending her hand towards Eleanor. ‘Also known as the Pincher.’
Zack’s jaw dropped. So did Eleanor’s.
Zack noticed her hand was trembling as she shook Gran’s hand and stuttered her name in reply.
‘It’s a great honour to meet you,’ said Eleanor. ‘My father has told me a lot about you.’
‘Oh?’ said Gran. ‘And who’s your father, soldier?’
‘Silas Sterne,’ said Eleanor.
‘Ah! Silas!’ said Gran. ‘I taught the little whipper-snapper everything he knows. Has he caught that Great White Bum yet?’
‘You mean Zack hasn’t told you?’ said Eleanor.
‘Told me what?’ said Gran.
‘We haven’t exactly had a lot of time to chat,’ said Zack.
‘Plenty of time for that later,’ said Gran, turning back to Eleanor. ‘First things first. What’s the situation, soldier?’
Eleanor shrugged and glanced at Zack. ‘It’s bad news,’ she said. ‘A few hours after Zack left the Academy I picked up the approaching invasion of bums on the bum-radar. They seem to be coming from Uranus.’
‘From my what?’ said Zack.
‘No, you idiot,’ said Eleanor. ‘URANUS!’
‘You mind your language, soldier!’ said Gran. ‘You’re not too old for me to box your ears, you know.’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ said Eleanor. ‘The bums are from Uranus!’
‘Language!’ said Gran crossly.
‘I meant the planet,’ said Eleanor.
‘Oh,’ said Gran. ‘My mistake.’
‘I’ve seen them,’ said Zack. ‘They’re attaching themselves to people and turning them into zombies!’
‘Zombie bums!’ said Eleanor. ‘I should have known it! Zombie bums from Uranus!’
‘Did you say zombie bums from Uranus?’ said Zack’s bum.
‘Yes,’ said Zack. ‘Zombie bums from Uranus!’
‘Language!’ said Gran.
‘I meant the planet, Gran,’ said Zack.
‘The planet “Gran”?’ said Zack’s bum. ‘I thought you said Uranus!’
‘Language!’ said Gran.
‘No!’ said Zack. ‘I didn’t mean there was a planet called Gran. I meant the planet Uranus!’
‘Language!’ said Gran.
‘We’re talking about the planet!’ said Eleanor, Zack and Zack’s bum in unison.
‘Oh,’ said Gran. ‘My mistake again. I thought you meant . . .’
‘Oh, this is pointless!’ said Eleanor. ‘They’re from outer space, okay?’
‘I thought you said they were from Uranus!’ said Gran.
Eleanor groaned. ‘They ARE from Uranus!’ she said.
‘Language!’ said Gran.
‘I MEANT THE PLANET!’ shouted Eleanor.
‘All right, all right,’ said Gran. ‘I may be old but I’m not deaf!’
‘But how can you be so sure that that’s where they’re from?’ said Zack.
‘Because my dad has seen them before,’ said Eleanor. ‘Remember he was away on a secret inter-planetary bum-fighting E-mission sorting out some sort of trouble on . . . ?’ She paused and glanced at Gran. She gave Zack a meaningful look. ‘On you know where,’ she said.
‘Of course!’ said Zack. ‘So this was the trouble!’
‘Well, sort of,’ said Eleanor. ‘And sort of not.’
‘What do you mean, soldier?’ said Gran.
Eleanor winced.
‘Well, apparently the unmanned space probe, Voyager 2, sent back images showing that the rings around the planet Uranus were made up of bums,’ she said. ‘Dad went up there with two other bum-fighters to investigate. As you know, he was called back to help fight the bum-revolution on Earth.’
‘So the other two bum-fighters are still up there?’ said Zack.
Eleanor nodded. ‘The thing is, though,’ she continued, ‘the bums weren’t alive when Silas was there. They were frozen. Completely dead. Something must have happened to make them come alive again.’
‘Silas told you all this?’ said Zack. ‘I thought it was top secret.’
‘It was,’ said Eleanor. ‘But not anymore. As soon as a spectral analysis of their tails revealed that they were from Uranus—’
‘Language!’ said Gran.
‘I meant the planet,’ said Eleanor wearily. ‘Anyway, as soon as I realised, I reported it to Dad. He told me everything.’
‘Any theories on how they reanimated?’ said Gran.
‘No,’ said Eleanor. ‘I haven’t had time to study it. As soon as we set up a ring of fire around the Academy to protect it from the bumvasion, Dad ordered me to come and find Zack and bring him back.’
‘Can you lot shut up and get me some iced water?’ said Zack’s bum. ‘I got burned pretty bad back there and none of you seem to care.’
‘You mind your manners,’ said Gran, ‘or I’ll give you a jolly good pinching!’
‘Lay a finger on me and you’ll be sorry,’ said Zack’s bum.
‘Right, that’s it,’ said Gran, reaching out to pinch it.
Zack blocked
her.
‘You’ll have to excuse my bum, Gran,’ he said, filling a bucket full of cold water.
‘You should have more control over it,’ said Gran.
‘I’m working on that,’ said Zack, sitting in the bucket.
Gran shook her head disapprovingly.
‘How come you never told me you were a bum-fighter, Gran?’ said Zack, trying to change the subject.
‘Well, if it had been up to me I would have, but your parents had other ideas,’ said Gran. ‘They thought—’
‘Oh no!’ said Eleanor.
‘What is it?’ said Zack, leaning forward to see out of the windscreen.
In the distance, illuminated by the powerful beams of the bum-mobile, he could see the Bum-fighting Academy. Or at least, what was left of it.
The entire area was devastated. Many of the buildings were either reduced to rubble or on fire. The sticks that had provided the ring of fire defence were scattered around the grounds.
‘Looks like they’ve beaten us to it,’ said Zack.
‘Who have?’ said Gran.
‘The zombie bums,’ said Zack. ‘From Uranus!’
‘Language!’ said Gran.
Eleanor landed the bum-mobile on the Academy landing strip.
From the ground the devastation appeared to be even worse.
Illuminated by the ghastly red glow of the fires, it was clear that most of the buildings had been pounded from above and severely damaged.
‘But how did the bums break through the ring of fire?’ said Zack.
‘I don’t know,’ Eleanor said. ‘Bums are usually terrified of fire.’
‘That’s right, we are,’ said Zack’s bum. ‘If we’re living, that is. But the zombie bums are dead. They can’t feel pain, so maybe they’re not scared of fire.’
‘But I saw a movie once,’ said Zack, ‘and the zombies in that movie hated fire.’
‘This isn’t some dumb movie, Zack,’ said his bum. ‘This is real life!’
‘Stop squabbling, you two,’ said Eleanor. ‘We have to find out if Dad and the B-team are all right. I’m going out to investigate. Zack, I want you and your gran to stay here.’
‘Oh no you don’t, soldier,’ said Gran. ‘I’m coming with you. You’re going to need an experienced bum-fighter out there.’
‘I am an experienced bum-fighter,’ said Eleanor.
Zombie Bums from Uranus Page 6