‘What kind of a competition?’ asked Purvis.
Allen handed over a crumpled piece of paper. Printed on it were the words:
‘Wow!’ breathed Mickey Thompson. ‘Don’t you like biscuits?’
‘Yes,’ said Allen, ‘but I don’t enjoy competing. Competitions make me very anxious, and when I’m anxious my tail won’t wag.’
‘But surely Howard won’t make you, if you don’t want to?’ said Purvis.
‘No,’ said Allen, ‘but I don’t want to disappoint him. He’s very excited about it.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Purvis.
‘Yes,’ said Allen, glumly.
and thought.
‘I know!’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘We’ll hide the advert, and then Howard will forget all about it.’
‘I don’t think he will,’ said Allen. ‘He’s written it up on the calendar in the kitchen.’
Everyone sipped their tea some more, and thought some more.
‘I know!’ said Purvis. ‘On the day of the competition, you can pretend you feel queasy. Then Howard will let you stay in bed.’
‘I’m not sure that would work either,’ said Allen. ‘He might take me to the vet, and that would be just as bad.’
‘And if he thinks you’re feeling queasy he might not give you any dinner,’ said Mickey Thompson, ‘and that would be even worse.
Everyone agreed that would be even worse. They all sipped harder, and thought harder.
‘I know!’ said Purvis, leaping up.
‘We’ll disguise Ortrud as you, and she can take part in the competition in your place.’ Everyone studied Ortrud.
‘She’s about the same size,’ mused Allen.
‘And roughly the same shape,’ said Purvis.
‘Not at the front she isn’t,’ said Mickey Thompson, pulling Ortrud’s trunk.
‘We can do something about that,’ called Purvis, rummaging in the clutter under Howard’s desk. Ortrud TRUMPETEP, and backed away.
‘Don’t worry, Ortrud,’ said Purvis. ‘We won’t get rid of it completely—we’ll just hide it. Look.’
He dragged out a large cardboard box.
Everyone looked at the box, and then at Purvis.
‘You’re going to put her trunk in that box?’ asked Mickey Thompson, doubtfully.
‘But Purvis,’ said Allen. ‘It doesn’t come off: it’s fixed.’
‘Of course not,’ said Purvis. ‘We’ll use the box to make a dog outfit. Ortrud can wear it and her trunk will be hidden.’
‘So will her eyes,’ pointed out Allen.
‘Yes, she’ll crash about,’ said Mickey Thompson. He made a TRUMPETING noise and crashed into Purvis, to demonstrate. There was a small scuffle.
‘I was about to say,’ said Purvis, rolling off Mickey Thompson, ‘that we can cut eyeholes. Then she’ll be able to see.’
Everyone agreed it was worth a try, so they tipped everything out out of the box and set to work. When they’d finished they put Ortrud into the cardboard dog outfit and stepped back to have a look at the effect.
‘Hmm. said Purvis.
‘It’s not too bad,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Um…’ said Allen, ‘I’m a little bit worried about the tail.’
Everyone looked at the back of the box and then back at Allen.
‘It’s just that it’s supposed to be a waggiest tail competition,’ explained Allen, ‘but there isn’t one.’
‘Draw it on?’ suggested Mickey Thompson.
‘No, let’s pull it through,’ said Purvis.
So they made a small hole in the box and pulled Ortrud’s tail through.
They all stood back to have another look.
‘Um,’ said Allen.
‘What?’ said the mice.
‘I’m still a little bit worried about the tail,’ said Allen, apologetically.
Everyone looked at Ortrud’s tail and then at Allen.
‘It’s just…’ said Allen.
‘Just what?’ said the mice.
‘It’s just that it’s supposed to be waggy. Ortrud’s tail is more kind of swishy.’
‘He’s right,’ sighed Mickey Thompson.
‘I think I’ll make some more tea,’ said Purvis.
So he made a fresh pot of tea and everyone sat around thinking some more. ‘There needs to be some kind of mechanism,’ said Purvis, after a while. ‘To make the tail waggier.’
‘How about,’ said Allen, ‘instead of using Ortrud’s tail, we make a pretend tail out of a brush or a stick or something, and someone sits inside the box and works it, waggily.’
‘You might have something there, Allen,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘I’ll have another look under Howard’s desk,’ said Purvis, disappearing. After a lot of rummaging, Purvis reappeared brandishing an old toothbrush.
‘Let’s try this,’ he said.
He climbed inside the box, pulled Ortrud’s tail in and pushed the toothbrush out.
‘What does it look like?’ he shouted.
‘A toothbrush,’ shouted back Mickey Thompson.
‘Try wagging it,’ shouted Allen.
Purvis tried wagging it.
‘Faster!’ shouted Mickey Thompson.
Purvis wagged faster.
‘Faster! Faster!’ shouted Mickey Thompson, getting over-excited.
‘I can’t go any faster,‘ said Purvis.
He stopped wagging and clambered out.
‘So what do you think?’ he puffed.
‘I think your face has gone bright pink,’ said Mickey Thompson, and there was another small scuffle.
‘Well, I think it’s a pretty good disguise,’ said Allen, ‘and that toothbrush tail works well.’
‘Howard will be back soon,’ said Purvis. ‘Let’s see if he notices it isn’t Allen.’
So Allen hid under the desk and the mice sat around trying to look as though everything was normal. The door opened and Howard came in.
said Howard.
‘Oh, that isn’t Ortrud,’ said Mickey Thompson, airily. ‘It’s the dog, Allen.’
‘Ah,’ said Howard, ‘Hello, Allen. And where might Ortrud be, do you suppose?’
There was an uncomfortable silence … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …. After what seemed like quite a long time, Purvis said: ‘I think she might have just stepped out for a walk.’
‘Ah,’ said Howard. ‘I see.’
‘Shall we put the kettle on?’ offered Purvis, brightly.
‘Please do,’ said Howard, so the mice went over to the kettle and made some more tea.
‘Bother,’ whispered Mickey Thompson to Purvis. ‘We should have made an Ortrud outfit for Allen.’
‘There wasn’t time,’ hissed back Purvis.
‘What’s all the whispering?’ said Howard.
‘Nothing!’ said the mice, loudly.
‘Well now,’ said Howard, settling down with his cup of tea. ‘I hope Allen hasn’t been too much trouble.’
‘No trouble at all,’ said Purvis.
‘He’s a dear.’
‘Yes, isn’t he?’ said Howard.
Everyone watched as Howard sipped his tea. ‘I had wondered…’ said Howard, slowly.
‘Yes?’ said the mice, quickly.
‘…Where that old toothbrush had got to.’
‘What old toothbrush?’ said Purvis, looking around.
‘The one Allen seems to be, err, holding,’ said Howard.
‘That isn’t a toothbrush, it’s Allen’s tail,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘I don’t think Allen will be very pleased to have his lovely tail mistaken for a toothbrush,’ said Purvis, going up to Ortrud and patting the box. There was a muffled TRUMPETING noise from inside, and Mickey Thompson started to giggle.
‘Right,’ said Howard. ‘Explanation, please. And do come out from under the d
esk, Allen, you’ll get covered in dust.’
Allen came out, looking a bit sheepish.
‘Allen doesn’t want to take part in the competition,’ blurted out Mickey Thompson.
‘And he’s been feeling anxious about it,’ said Purvis.
‘But he didn’t want to disappoint you,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Oh dear,’ said Howard. ‘I had no idea. Err, how do you know all this?’
‘He told us,’ said Purvis. ‘So we’ve—’
‘Hang on,’ said Howard. ‘How do you mean, “told” you?
Did he speak to you?’
‘That’s right,’ said Purvis, ‘so we’ve—’
‘With words, not woofs?’ said Howard.
‘Of course,’ said Purvis. ‘So anyway, we’ve made Ortrud a—’
‘But Ortrud doesn’t,’ said Howard. ‘Does she?’
‘Ortrud TRUMPETS,’ said Mickey Thompson, TRUMPETING.
‘Ortrud’s too young to talk,’ said Purvis. ‘So, anyway, we’ve made her a dog outfit, so she can go instead.’
Eh? said Howard, rubbing at his head. ‘Oh. Yes. Hmm.’ He took a gulp of tea and then stood up and walked around Ortrud, examining the dog outfit from every angle.
‘The thing is,’ said Howard, eventually, ‘it all needs to look far more woolly. Hang on.’
He rushed out of the room and everyone looked at each other.
said Mickey Thompson.
Suddenly there was the sound of heavy footsteps outside the door. Everyone froze.
‘That isn’t Howard,’ said Purvis, as someone rattled the handle.
The mice and Allen dived under the desk … … just as the door burst open and Mr Bullerton came in.
‘Hah!’ said Mr Bullerton, triumphantly ‘Mess!’.
He went over to the box and looked down at it, tutting.
Stay still, Ortrud, please stay still, thought Purvis, holding his breath.
Mr Bullerton walked all around the box, still tutting, and then bent down and picked something up from the floor.
It was Allen’s dog-show leaflet.
‘DOG WITH, the Waggiest…
COMPETITION …
Prizes …’
read Mr Bullerton. ‘Hmmm.’
He folded it up and put it in his pocket. Then the door opened again and Howard came in carrying an old brown blanket.
‘Look what I found in the storeroom…’ he began, ‘… oh dear, yes, ah, Mr Bullerton,’ he finished.
‘Don’t oh dear yes ah Mr Bullerton me,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘What’s the meaning of it?’
‘What’s the m—’ said Howard.
‘THIS!’ interrupted Mr Bullerton, pointing at the box.
‘This great pile of junk in the middle of your room. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘No,’ said Howard. ‘Neither have I.’
‘Well, get rid of it,’ said Mr Bullerton, crossly. ‘If I ever have to set eyes on it again, you’re for it. And what are you doing with that blanket?’ he continued.
‘Oh, err, I was a little chilly,’ said Howard.
‘A little chilly?’ said Mr Bullerton, going purple. ‘A LITTLE CHILLY? It’s practically the middle of summer.’ Mr Bullerton put his face very close to Howard’s.
‘Just you listen to me,’ he said. ‘I don’t pay you to loll around wrapped up in blankets. I pay you to work. Tidily. Without boxes. Without blankets. AND WITHOUT MESS. Get on with it.’
And Mr Bullerton stomped off, closing the door behind him very loudly.
Allen and the mice came out from under the desk.
‘Oh dear,’ said Purvis.
‘Never mind about that now,’ said Howard. ‘Let’s try out this blanket.’
So they cut some eyeholes and a hole for the tail, and draped the blanket over Ortrud’s box.
Everyone stepped back to look.
‘Hmm,’ said Howard. ‘Ears.’
‘Wait! I know!’ said Purvis.
He dived under Howard’s desk again and quickly reappeared clutching an old pair of knitted mittens.
‘I saw these under there earlier,’ he said.
‘Perfect,’ said Howard, stapling them on to the costume. ‘Now, what are we going to do about this tail?’
‘The toothbrush wags well,’ said Mickey Thompson, to Howard. ‘Purvis sits inside and works it.’
‘The toothbrush is a good foundation,’ said Howard, ‘but it needs to be far more … err … more… you know…’ He waved his hands about.
‘Puffy?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Tufty?’ said Purvis.
‘No… err… more… err…’ said Howard.
‘Fluffy?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Frondy?’ said Purvis.
‘Woolly’ said Howard, taking off his sock.
It was a brown woollen one. Howard stuck it on to the toothbrush and everyone stepped back again to have a look at the overall effect. ‘Right,’ said Howard. ‘Now that’s what I call a dog outfit.’
The Waggiest Tail Part 2
It was morning. Slowly, Purvis started to wake up.
He was feeling warm and comfortable, and contentedly. Slowly, Purvis woke up some more. He was starting to feel a little less comfortable, and not quite as contented. Suddenly he remembered:
it was the day of the Dog with the Waggiest Tail Competition!
Purvis sat up with a start.
Everyone else was asleep. Purvis shifted about and coughed a bit, but everyone else stayed asleep.
He climbed out of bed, rather noisily. He clattered around
Nobody moved. Eventually, he went over to Mickey Thompson and prodded.
‘Uff,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Mickey Thompson,’ Whispered Purvis.
‘Umph,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Are you asleep?’ said Purvis, quietly.
‘Wuh?’ said Mickey Thompson, drowsily.
‘I SAID ARE YOU ASLEEP?’ said Purvis, loudly.
Mickey Thompson sat up with a start, and Ortrud sat up with a trumpet.
‘I was worried we’d be late,’ explained Purvis, once Mickey Thompson and Ortrud had recovered.
‘Oh well, now we’re up we can have some breakfast,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘I suppose we should,’ said Purvis, ‘but I don’t feel hungry at all. My stomach’s full of butterflies.‘
Butterflies?’ said Mickey Thompson.
Where did you get butterflies from?’
‘They were there when I woke up this morning,’ said Purvis.
‘But what did you go and eat them for?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Eh?’ said Purvis.
‘And why the whole lot? You could have saved some for me.’
‘You wouldn’t have liked them,’ said Purvis. ‘They’re an Acquired Taste. Especially the pretty yellow ones,’ he added, giggling.
Mickey Thompson bounced Purvis and there was a small scuffle.
‘You don’t want butterflies,’ said Purvis, once they’d finished. ‘I’ll make you and Ortrud some porridge instead.’
So Ortrud and Mickey Thompson tucked into large bowls of porridge while Purvis drank a cup of tea.
‘I’ll make up for it later, with the picnic,’ he said.
Afterwards, the mice dressed Ortrud in the dog outfit and busied about preparing for the outing. By the time Howard and Allen arrived to collect them, they were ready and waiting excitedly on the desk. Purvis, looking tense, was clutching a map and a small notebook in which he’d written down a lot of research under the headings ‘DOGS’, and ‘WAGGING’ and ‘COMPETITIONS’.
Mickey Thompson, looking cheerful, was wearing a flowery sun-hat and holding a picture he’d drawn of Allen.
‘I’m going to wave it about, like a flag, he told Howard.
‘Good for you,’ said Howard.
‘Let’s be off.’ So they all trooped out of Howard’s office and up the long corridor to the lift. The doors pinged open and they bundled in.
‘Down, please!’ said Purvis.
‘Give me a chance,’ said Howard, ‘I’m just about to press—’
The lift started to trundle them downwards, clunkily.
‘Thank you!’ said Purvis.
‘But I haven’t pressed it yet!’ said Howard.
‘What a big hamper,’ observed the lift.
‘It’s full of picnic,’ confided Mickey Thompson. ‘Purvis and Ortrud are taking part in a comp—’
‘What?’ said Howard.
‘STOP!’ said Purvis, very loudly.
The lift jerked to a halt and everyone fell over in a heap.
‘What are you doing!?’ squawked Howard.
‘Quick! We need to go back up,’ said Purvis. ‘We’ve left Ortrud behind!’
So the lift took them back up. The doors pinged open and everyone bundled out and down the long corridor to Howard’s office.
‘You were talking to the lift!’ said Howard, and they hurried along.
‘Yes,’ said Purvis. ‘Don’t you?’
‘No!’ said Howard.
‘How does she know where to take you, then?’ asked Purvis.
‘The buttons!’ said Howard. ‘I press them.’
‘Oh!’ said Purvis. ‘We wondered what those were for. It seems more friendly to ask though really, doesn’t it?’
‘I suppose so,’ sighed Howard.
When they got back to the office Ortrud was asleep inside the dog outfit, snoring gently.
‘Phew,’ said Purvis. ‘I was worried she’d think we’d forgotten her.’
‘We had forgotten her,’ pointed out Mickey Thompson.
‘Never mind!’ said Howard quickly, before a scuffle could start. ‘Let’s get going or we’ll be late.’ Scooping Ortrud into his arms, he dashed off up the corridor to the lift. Everyone dashed after him.
‘Oo, me mechanism,’ groaned the lift, as she clanked them all downwards again.
‘We’ll save you a sandwich,’ promised Purvis, ‘to make up for all the extra upping and downing.’
The Clumsies Make a Mess Page 3