They joined the end of the queue, Joe/Barry trying to look as cool as it was possible to be when you had a head that wanted to go in a different direction from the rest of your body. Luckily, this was quite normal for Monsterworld, so no one paid them any attention.
They hadn’t been there long when a pale, worm-like monster slithered up to the studio. It had a nasty smile filled with teeth that were like pins and it blinked at the queue of monsters with cold, ink-black eyes. It wore an expensive velvet waistcoat and left a trail of glistening slime behind it as it moved.
“It’s Uncton Slugglesbutt!” said Twig. “Mum said he was in the competition!”
“He’s very jealous of Fuzzby’s Diner,” said Barry, with a hint of pride. “He’d do anything to see Fuzzby lose the competition.”
Two large, ugly monsters walked in front of Slugglesbutt. They were all teeth, scales, warts and growl. These were the type of monsters that Fuzzby had warned Joe about, the ones that liked arms on toast. He shivered and was glad he was disguised. The large monsters were carrying Slugglesbutt’s cooking equipment in boxes and pushing smaller monsters out of his way. A piece of paper fluttered out of one of the boxes and landed at Joe’s feet. No one was looking so he stretched his arm down and picked it up. It was a label that must have fallen off some packaging. It said:
SPOON-ACTIVATED TRAVELLING PLATE
MADE BY SPUDINGTON MAGICAL KITCHEN SUPPLIES.
Joe had no idea what a travelling plate was, but he stuffed the label into a pocket.
The queue started moving.
“We’re going in now,” said Barry from on top of Joe’s shoulders. “Everybody act normal, not hooman.”
Inside the studio, a kitchen had been built for the competitors to use for cooking. Around it were several camera-monsters getting ready to film everything for TV. Joe saw that Doreen, Bradwell, Gordon and even the Guzzelins had turned up to support Fuzzby. He and the others found some seats right at the front so they would have a good view of everything.
From a loudspeaker on the wall came the announcement that the programme was about to start, and then some dramatic music played. Monsterchef had begun!
A greedy-looking monster with a large green body and a number of crab-like legs tottered on to the set. The monsters in the audience cheered.
“I’m Toadly Bellybutter and I’m your host on this year’s edition of… Monsterchef!”
More dramatic music played. The audience cheered again.
“We’ve three brave contestants on the show today, ready to do battle with each other for the title of best Monsterchef. Let’s meet them!”
A round blue monster that looked like a balloon with four legs trotted in, lit up by a bright spotlight. She smiled confidently.
“Hello, my name’s Ethelurga,” said the monster. “I’m a mother of forty-three children, although some of them haven’t hatched yet. I like good, plain home-cooking with plenty of stodgy, greasy bits and lots of scummy, congealed things.”
The audience cheered their approval.
“She writes cookery books,” Twig whispered to Joe. “She’s trying to get her own cooking programme.”
“For Monsterchef I’m going to be baking a very special cake,” said Ethelurga confidently. “It’s my own recipe – a weevil’s food cake, with a freshly hoicked mucus cream filling, decorated with ripe, burst-in-the-mouth zitberries.”
“I can almost taste them!” said Toadly, which was not surprising as his frog-like tongue had been licking a spot on his oily face. “Now let’s meet our second contestant!”
“Here’s Fuzzby!” said Barry, waving his tentacles as the big green monster lumbered on to the set.
He grinned at the monsters in the audience in his friendly way, then frowned when he noticed Barry in the front row wearing a coat with a pair of legs sticking out of it.
“Uh-oh,” said Barry. “He’s spotted us!”
But before Fuzzby could say anything, he was given a nudge by Toadly Bellybutter.
“Erm… hello, my name’s Fuzzby,” he said, “and I run Fuzzby’s Diner, famous for its chips.”
There were cheers from the audience. Gordon, Bradwell, Doreen and the Guzzelins did a Mexican wave, which took some time due to the number of tentacles Doreen had.
“I’m going to be making my speciality: Tarte Surprise au Slime. Flaky dandruff pastry, filled with snot-worm nose pus. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but it involves chewy green bits and some minor explosions. All served with my famous chips, of course!”
“Hurray for Fuzzby!” shouted the audience, including Joe and the others. Twig showered leaves around her as she cheered and Barry almost fell off his perch on Joe’s shoulders after a bout of energetic tentacle waving.
“And now, please welcome our final contestant on Monsterchef!” said Toadly.
The spotlight fell on the pale face of Uncton Slugglesbutt as he slithered on to the stage, grinning with his pointy teeth. He looked very pleased with himself.
“My name is Uncton,” said Uncton with a quiet hiss. “Mr Slugglesbutt to you. I like food with a heart. And other vital organs, preferably still warm. I own the Slugglesbutt Bistro, the finest restaurant in Monsterworld. We serve the finest food for only the finest monsters. And definitely no chips.”
There was polite applause from the audience. Fuzzby growled. No one was allowed to insult his beloved chips. What an unpleasant monster, thought Joe, with his nasty slimy trail and – what was that? As well as slime, Uncton was leaving behind a trickle of fine, crumbly dust as he moved. How strange…
Uncton continued, “And only I am a good enough cook to win Monsterchef. I shall win this competition with a delicious salad of scabpox-riddled turnip, itchy-bum nettles, fried stoat’s cheese and garlic-breath croutons.”
“Wonderful!” oozed Toadly Bellybutter (there was an actual trail of ooze on the floor). “Now please welcome our expert judges, Mr Jubbins and Mrs Trumptious!”
“Here’s Mum!” said Twig, as Mrs Trumptious the tree monster grandly creaked on to the set, followed by the jellified form of Mr Jubbins, gurgling happily. Mrs Trumptious’s robin fluttered about in her branches, then decided to sit on Toadly’s head for a better view.
“We’re all ready,” announced Toadly, accompanied by a few bursts of birdsong. “So, contestants – on your marks, get set;
The three monsters raced to their separate parts of the kitchen and began cooking furiously, cutting, slicing, grating and stabbing all kind of particularly revolting and sometimes downright uncooperative ingredients.
Joe watched through the gap in his coat as grungy dollops of grease and sticky green liquid flew everywhere, while hideous smells erupted and bubbled from cooking pots and mixers. He was glad to be there to support Fuzzby, but was beginning to regret sitting right at the front, near the kitchen. It was all he could do not to faint from the stench when one of Ethelurga’s zitberries bounced off her table and burst in front of him. He pressed his nose into the coat to smother the smell. But the audience loved every second and were soon drooling at the sight of the feast being prepared in front of them. Finally, after a lot of baking, stirring, frying and hitting things with spatulas, it was all over. A buzzer rang. Time was up! Joe breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now it’s time for the judging!” said Twig.
“Come on, Fuzzby!” said Barry nervously. “You can do it, you great big hairball.”
First to be judged was Ethelurga. Her spectacular many-layered cake towered over her. Each layer had a bogey-rippled cream filling that dripped down the sides of the creation. The top was decorated with a scattering of red zitberries, plump and ripe and, as Joe knew all too well, ready to pop. It looked perfect. Ethelurga beamed proudly. Mr Jubbins licked his lips and picked up a knife to cut a slice of the cake. But as soon as the knife touched it – PIF! – the sponge disappeared into thin air! The zitberries and cream filling collapsed to the table in a soggy mess, splattering everyone around.
“What’s
happened?” shrieked Ethelurga, horrified.
Mrs Trumptious frowned and then leant over to the table where Ethelurga had been cooking. A branch swept down and picked up an open bag of flour for Mrs Trumptious’s many eyes to inspect.
“This bag is filled with self-erasing flour instead of normal flour,” she said, after examining it closely. “As soon as you cut into it, it erases itself!”
The audience gasped.
“But I’m sure it was normal flour this morning,” said a distraught Ethelurga. But it was no good. With no cake to judge, Ethelurga was out of the competition.
“Such a foolish mistake!” Uncton Slugglesbutt sneered happily. “I’d never do such a thing.”
“What a terrible tragedy!” sighed Toadly, who loved a bit of drama. The robin on his head chirped in agreement.
“On with the judging!” commanded Mrs Trumptious. “Mr Bixington’s next!”
Mr Jubbins picked up a spoon. Fuzzby’s Tarte Surprise au Slime looked very tasty, its green and beige filling glistening in the spotlight. But just as the spoon reached the pie, the pie dish suddenly sprouted a pair of tiny legs, jumped up off the table and ran out of the door of the studio, scattering chips in all directions!
Everybody gasped again! A vanishing cake? An escaped pie? Never had a Monsterchef contest been more eventful!
“A dashing dish!” said Twig. “How did that get there?”
“Poor Fuzzby!” said Barry. “Though usually the dish runs away with the spoon, I’ve heard.”
Fuzzby looked crushed. He had practised for ages for the competition and now he was going to lose because of an unruly piece of crockery.
“A dashing dish?” said Joe. “You mean, a plate that can travel…”
Over and above all the other stinkiness, Joe was beginning to smell a rat.
Meanwhile, rules were rules, and if there was nothing for the judges to taste, then Fuzzby was disqualified.
“I win! I win!” said Uncton Slugglesbutt triumphantly. “The competition’s over.”
“We have to try your dish first, Mr Slugglesbutt,” said Mrs Trumptious. “They’re the rules.”
“Fine!” said Slugglesbutt haughtily. “I don’t think you’ll find anything wrong with my food.”
“CHEAT!” The word had popped out of Joe’s mouth before he could stop himself. “Cheat!”
Everyone turned to look at the strange creature wrapped up in a coat in the front row.
“What are you doing?!” hissed Barry. “You’ll give us away if you’re not careful.”
But someone was up to no good and Joe was determined to put a stop to it. He stood up, making Barry wobble precariously, and ran into the Monsterchef kitchen. Barry wrapped his tentacles tightly round Joe’s face
“Stop!” cried the cat, hanging on for dear life.
“I can’t see!” Joe tried to say, but it was too late. He tripped over one of the camera cables and fell flat on to the ground.
With a startled meow, Barry shot out of the coat and went flying across the studio. The cat landed right in the middle of Uncton’s salad with a huge splat.
“Barry!” roared Fuzzby. “I thought it was you sitting there. And I bet I know who’s inside that coat too. Come here, Joe.”
Joe walked, shamefaced, over to where the judges and contestants stood. All the monsters in the audience gasped. What was this creature? What was it doing here? What did it mean?
“A hooman? In Monsterworld?” exclaimed Toadly. “I’ve never heard of such a thing!”
“He’s with me,” said Fuzzby. “But he shouldn’t be! I told you not to come here, Joe. I’m very disappointed in you.”
“It was my idea,” admitted Barry from the salad bowl. “Well, the clever bits were.”
“I’m sorry, Fuzzby,” said Joe. “I just wanted to cheer you on. But I couldn’t keep quiet when I knew you were about to lose to a cheat!” he said, pointing at Uncton.
“Only Fuzzby Bixington would be friends with a troublesome creature like this! We all know that hoomans are only fit for stewing!”
He had a black tongue along his spiky teeth and Joe backed away.
“You had better have some proof of your accusation, young hooman,” said Mrs Trumptious, looking at him very sternly from several eyes
Joe produced the paper label he’d picked up outside the studio.
“This belongs to Uncton,” he said. “He brought the dashing dish!”
“That could have come from anywhere!” spat the worm.
“I think if we check with Spudington Magical Kitchen Supplies, we’ll find it belongs to you,” said Joe. “And I also think we’ll find the missing bag of flour hidden inside your velvet waistcoat. It’s been leaking everywhere.”
Uncton hissed at him, but Fuzzby was too quick and grabbed the monster with his big green claws. Sure enough, tucked inside the worm’s waistcoat was the leaky bag of flour, dribbling the powdery trail Joe had noticed earlier.
“Well done, Joe!” said Fuzzby.
“Uncton Slugglesbutt, you are hereby disqualified from Monsterchef for cheating!” pronounced Mrs Trumptious.
“I’ll get even with you, Bixington!” said Uncton as he slithered out of the studio to boos from the audience. “And your little hooman…”
“A shame, really,” said Barry, with a mouthful of itchy-bum nettles. “He might have won without cheating. This salad’s not bad.” Fuzzby glared at him. “Needs some chips, of course,” the cat added quickly.
“So who has won?” said Twig, running on to the set. “There’s no food left to judge!”
“The competition is cancelled!” said Mrs Trumptious. “But we’ll invite Fuzzby and Ethelurga back for the next one.”
“I can see it now,” said Toadly, almost overcome with excitement. “Monsterchef: The Rematch!”
“All’s well that ends well,” said Fuzzby with a sigh. “I may not have won, but at least Uncton Slugglesbutt didn’t either. And there’s always next time. I’ll even let you come and watch, Joe. You’ve earned a reward.” He gave Joe a hug.
“In fact, we all deserve a reward,” said the big green monster with a grin. “Who’d like a nice plate of golden, freshly made, crispy-on-the-outside, fluffy-on-the-inside, just-the right-kind-of-greasy, mouthwateringly delicious chips?”
“US!” everyone replied at once.
“But,” said Joe, “only if they’re MONSTER-sized.”
Copyright
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books 2013
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1
MONSTER AND CHIPS
Text & Illustrations copyright © David O’Connell 2013
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ISBN 978-000-749713-3
Ebook Edition © FEBRUARY 2013 ISBN: 9780007497164
Version 1
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Monster and Chips (Colour Version) (Monster and Chips, Book 1) Page 4