The Karate Princess in Monsta Trouble

by Jeremy Strong

  The princess’s face softened and she hugged Hubert closely, while Knackerleevee turned rather red, gave the pair a soppy grin and sighed.

  ‘Aaaaah. That’s so sweet.’

  But this touching scene was rudely interrupted by an ear-piercing scream. ‘The MoNsta is here! It’s outside the castle walls! Pull up the drawbridge! Pull the curtains! Hide under your beds!’

  The three companions rushed over to the window, and there was the MoNsta in full view. They stared in silent awe, until at last Hubert spoke. ‘That is a big MoNsta,’ he whispered fearfully.

  It was like a brontosaurus, but its skin was scaly like a crocodile. Its legs were very short and stout, so that its belly trailed upon the ground, crushing anything beneath. Two large wings sprouted from its back. They were folded against its sides, but as the beast darted forward its wings spread and cracked the air with stiff blows.

  Behind the MoNsta its tail stretched out, long and scaly, whipping angrily from side to side. And most fearsome of all were its two heads and four tongues.

  Each head was on the end of a long neck, and was shaped like that of a giant snake. Cold, unblinking eyes glistened fiercely as it scanned the countryside for food – a cow here, a sheep there, a brave prince or two, complete with horse – all were suddenly engulfed by one of the four flickering tongues. Hubert had been told that each tongue was half a mile long – this was a bit of an exaggeration, although they certainly gave that impression, and if you happened to be the person stuck to the tongue, you probably wouldn’t care if it was half a mile long or only a few centimetres.

  ‘That is nasty,’ muttered Knackerleevee. Belinda’s heart sank. For the first time in her life she felt utterly defeated. This was a MoNsta from hell.

  The Duke of Dork came striding back into the room, followed by several servants clutching masses of string. ‘I’ve brought your string Dorinda,’ he announced cheerfully. ‘I say, what are you all staring at?’

  The others made way for Dudless as he came to the window. He peered out, took one look at the MoNsta and slid to the floor.

  ‘I know just how he feels,’ murmured Belinda. She could almost hear her own heart screaming at her – ‘Let me out! I want to go home!’ But she told herself to be strong and began work on the string. ‘Come on. Let’s get this lot tied together. There’s no time to lose.’

  From a dark doorway Prinz Blippenbang’s eyes narrowed. This was going so well! That silly little girl could do all the work and lead him to the MoNsta, then he could take over with his trusty bazooka.

  5 How to Play ‘Pin the Tail on the MoNsta’

  In the castle courtyard an astonishing scene was taking place. At least forty princes (and for some reason many of them were wearing large plasters or bandages) were pulling on their shining armour. On went the breastplates. On went the metal shoes and leggings, and finally the heavy helmets.

  They climbed on to their horses, who were themselves decked out in armour and coloured robes. The princely knights grabbed their lances and spears and swords and shields and generally armed themselves to the hilt with as many weapons as they could carry. They were ready to do battle.

  ‘Lower the drawbridge!’ they cried.

  Chains banged and rattled through stone channels and with a creak and a groan the great iron drawbridge came clanking down across the moat. A moment later it echoed to the sound of horses’ hooves as the valiant

  princes rode out to do battle with the MoNsta. Behind them all came Belinda and Hubert and the Bogle, carrying no weapons at all except a very large ball of string.

  And behind them came Prinz Blippenbang, clutching his trusty bazooka.

  The brave princes formed a miniature army, and they went charging towards the MoNsta, lances at the tilt. Meanwhile, the three companions, still being shadowed by the Prinz, made a wide detour, in a bid to get beyond and behind the fearsome creature.

  The princes did not seem to have much of a strategy for attacking the MoNsta. They would rush at it headlong, but as soon as a slurpy tongue came anywhere near them they would turn tail and gallop away screaming. Belinda watched all this from a comfortable distance.

  ‘It’s like watching two-year-olds on the beach running away from the waves,’ she observed. Nevertheless she was worried. ‘I do wish that horrible beast would keep its tail still.’

  ‘You’ll have to come with me,’ she told the Bogle. ‘You might just be strong enough to hold down the end of its tail long enough for me to tie on one end of the string.’

  ‘Not even Knackerleevee is that strong,’ Hubert pointed out.

  ‘Don’t argue with me, Hubert,’ snapped Belinda. ‘I need somebody’s help out there. Apart from anything else, someone is going to have to put their finger on the knot so that I can tie it tightly.’

  ‘Put their finger on the knot!’ Hubert almost burst out laughing, but he saw the angry look on Belinda’s face and wisely kept quiet.

  The Bogle grabbed the ball of string and quietly padded after the princess as she began to creep up behind the MoNsta, whose tail was thrashing and crashing about like a shark out of water. This was certainly going to be a tricky operation.

  Belinda ran quickly from one hiding place to another, trying to keep an eye on both the MoNsta’s heads at once. She approached from the left and then, just as she was tiptoeing up to the tail – PROYYOINNGGG! Up in the air it went and came crashing down in a cloud of dust away to her right.

  Belinda approached from the right. She crept towards the MoNsta holding out the string in front of her and was almost there when – WHAANNGGG! Up went the tail again and came down with a tremendous bang in the centre ground. Belinda approached from the centre, but didn’t even get halfway there before the tail was off on another sky-bound journey.

  This happened over and over again, until the Karate Princess finally lost her temper altogether. ‘Oh for goodness sake!’ she bellowed. ‘Will you PLEASE keep still!’

  Both heads of the MoNsta whipped round and four cold eyes fixed the three friends. Two mouths opened. Two horrible hisses came from each throat and out shot four tongues, like purple and yellow whips.

  ‘Uh-oh!’ cried Belinda, and hastily ran away so fast that she overtook both Knackerleevee and Hubert. They

  threw themselves behind a large rock and lay there panting, while the tips of four tongues writhed about the ground nearby searching.

  ‘Temper, temper,’ muttered Hubert reproachfully.

  ‘I know, I know.’ Belinda had to agree with him. She knew her temper was her weak point. When she had been a karate student her teacher – the famous Hiro Ono – had often told her to shut her mind to her temper. ‘Lose your temper and lose the battle,’ he used to tell her. And just now he had almost been proved right.

  Knackerleevee peered out from behind the rock. ‘It’s gone,’ he said. ‘I think the MoNsta has found something more interesting. The Bogle was quite right for, over the far hill, attracted by all the noise, came a herd of curious goats, closely followed by their goatherd, Gordon.

  The goats had bells hanging from their necks, and they made a pleasant ding-dong noise as they trotted down the hillside. The MoNsta seemed very attracted to the noise too,

  because it had turned away from its search for Belinda and her friends, and was now gazing with immense pleasure at the sight of dinner trotting straight towards it.

  Gordon of course was going frantic. ‘Come back you daft animals. That’s the MoNsta! It’s not a vegetarian like me! It will have you all for dinner!’ But his shouts were in vain. On went the goats, bleating merrily, while the MoNsta became intently quiet. It crouched down on its great belly, breathing as quietly as possible. Its four tongues lay curled up and ready, and its tail lay as still as a dead python.

  ‘Now’s our chance,’ whispered Belinda. ‘Come on, Knackerleevee.’ They came out from behind their rock and began the long creep forward. It seemed to take ages, but still the MoNsta had all its attention fixed firmly on Gordon’s goats, who
were wandering ever closer. Belinda urged herself on, she had to get the string on the tail before the MoNsta went into action, or realized what was happening at its rear.

  At last Belinda was standing right by the tail-tip, and even though it was the tip it was still almost as big as Belinda herself. She grasped the end of the string and gently wound it round and round. She tied a knot. ‘Quick, put your finger there,’ she ordered, and Knackerleevee dutifully obliged.

  Maybe the goats had just got within range, or maybe the MoNsta felt the Bogle’s long, sharp nails, but suddenly the tail rose in the air, with Belinda and the Bogle still clinging to it. The MoNsta roared and hissed and the four tongues shot out.

  ‘Blaaaah!’ bleated the goats.

  ‘Raaaargh!’ hissed the MoNsta.

  ‘Yaaaargh!’ yelled Belinda and Knackerleevee.

  Down came the tail with a bone-crunching bang. Knackerleevee rolled away into the bushes half-conscious, but Belinda managed to soak up most of the fall with a well-timed judo roll. She sprang to her feet and grabbed the ball of string. The MoNsta already had a mouthful of fresh goat. Poor Gordon the goatherd was in despair, but there was nothing he could do except make sure that he didn’t go the same way as his goats. Even the knights in shining armour had run away back to the castle when they saw the fate of the goats.

  Only Prinz Blippenbang remained, peering out from a large bush. Prinz Blippenbang could feel his ultimate triumph creeping closer and closer.

  With a last slurp the MoNsta smiled cheerfully and spread its great wings. They

  beat the air and the huge beast slowly lifted from the ground. It rose into the air like some monstrous thunder cloud, higher and higher, with the knotted string trailing out behind, and then it flew away, accompanied by the faint sound of muffled goats’ bells. Belinda unrolled the string as fast as she could. Hubert ran over and began helping.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he cried. ‘I thought that was the end of you when you were whisked up in the air like that.’

  ‘I’m OK. Just keep unwinding the string and pray that it doesn’t break.’

  Knackerleevee groaned and staggered to his feet.

  ‘Urgh – I feel as if I’ve just been hurled to the ground by a monstrous tail.’

  ‘Help us unwind the string!’ they both shouted and he hurried over. The ball was rapidly dwindling and the MoNsta had almost vanished from view.

  ‘We’re going to run out of string!’ yelled Belinda, as the last piece ran through her fingers. She grabbed the end before it could be whisked away and she was off, half running, half jumping as she tried to keep up with the MoNsta’s flight.

  And then all at once the string went slack. Belinda stood on the hillside panting furiously, still clutching the string, while the others ran to catch up with her.

  ‘You’ve still got it!’ cried Hubert with admiration.

  ‘Yes, but have I got it because the MoNsta has settled down to sleep, or because the string has snapped somewhere?’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Hubert pointed out, but before they could set off they were suddenly confronted by a groaning Gordon, grieving for his goats.

  ‘All my goats! Every single one! Gobbled up, like… like… goats that have been gobbled, I suppose.’

  ‘You have a lovely way with words,’ murmured Hubert.

  ‘I’m in shock,’ cried Gordon. ‘My goats have been gobbled.’

  ‘Pull yourself together,’ Belinda ordered. ‘What would Taloola say if she saw you like this?’

  Gordon gave a mighty sniff.

  ‘You’re right. I must pull myself together.’ He gazed with curiosity at the length of string in Belinda’s hand.

  ‘Where’s the balloon?’ he asked.

  ‘There isn’t a balloon on the end of this string,’ Belinda explained. ‘There’s a MoNsta, at least we hope that is what is on the end, because we intend to follow the string to the MoNsta’s lair and then we shall kill it before it can do any more damage.’

  ‘Then I must come with you!’ cried Gordon, ‘so that I can see that justice is done, for the sake of my goats.’

  With that they began following the string.

  Not so very far behind them Prinz Blippenbang emerged from behind his rock and began discreetly to follow the MoNsta hunters.

  ‘I’m coming too,’ he muttered quietly, ‘because where Belinda goes, I go, but what Belinda does I shall claim I did myself. Then I shall have the money and Taloola. I shall keep the money of course, but Taloola can jump off a cliff for all I care. Hee hee hee!’

  6 The Princess in the Pothole

  The string led them over the first hill and on to the brow of the second hill where for the first time they were able to see a long cliff face beyond. In front of them the string stretched out through the air.

  ‘There must be a cave or something in the cliff,’ mused Hubert. He set off at a run down the hill and across a narrow gully until he reached the bottom of the cliff. ‘Look, up beyond that big clump of bushes. Isn’t that a hole?’

  Belinda and the Bogle squinted up to where Hubert was pointing. Then they saw it – a long, dark fissure in the rock, half hidden by bushes.

  ‘It’s just about big enough for the MoNsta to crawl through,’ she murmured, ‘and if it’s big enough for the MoNsta then it’s certainly big enough for us.’

  ‘It’s much bigger inside,’ Gordon announced. Belinda looked round, startled.

  ‘Really? How do you know?’

  ‘One of my nanny goats went in there last year. She’d hurt her leg and couldn’t climb down. I had to rescue her.’ Gordon sniffed loudly. ‘Now she’s back in there again, only this time she’s gone for ever. My poor little goats.’ He snuffled again and hastily wiped away a tear with his wispy beard.

  ‘Come on,’ said Belinda. ‘It’s no use crying over spilled goats’ milk. Let’s get up there and find the MoNsta.’ Gordon nodded bravely and they began to climb.

  The cliff face was crumbly, but at least there were plenty of hand and foot holds, and they were soon well on their way to the opening. Knackerleevee made the mistake of looking down to see how far they had come.

  ‘Ohohoh,’ he moaned. ‘It’s a long way down, Nestship. Oooh, I don’t like it. My knees are going wobbly and my stomach feels like a bowl of very sloppy yoghurt.’

  ‘Don’t look down,’ said Hubert. ‘Keep your eye on the cave-mouth. Come on.’ He held out a helping hand and gently guided the great creature higher. Once again Belinda was touched at Hubert’s care and kindness. I don’t deserve him, she thought. He’s too kind. But of course she did deserve him really, and she looked after him in her own way, so they were well suited.

  They reached the hole in the rock and hauled themselves over the edge. ‘Phwooor!’ cried Hubert, holding his nose. ‘This place stinks!’ A revolting smell of old cabbage and boiled eggs drifted from the mouth of the cave.

  ‘Ssssh, you’ll wake the MoNsta,’ whispered the princess and she tiptoed forward, following the string. The cave was very dark and they paused for a few moments until their eyes grew used to the lack of light, but even then they could hardly see a thing. As they pressed deeper into the cave the smell became ever more powerful and they clenched their hands over their faces.

  Some distance behind them, and keeping well out of sight, Prinz Blippenbang darted from rock to rock as he carefully tailed the four MoNsta hunters.

  Gordon was right about the size of the cave. The roof quickly soared higher and higher. The place was like a gigantic hall. Fat stalagmites sat dotted about the floor like grumpy old men, fast asleep. From the ceiling long thin stalactites were still dripping with water.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ whispered Hubert. ‘I wish I could stop and paint it all. It would make a wonderful picture.’

  ‘I think we ought to sort out this beastie thing first,’ Belinda answered. ‘We’re almost there. Keep very, very quiet.’

  They rounded a big outcrop of rock and there in front of the
m was the MoNsta, fast asleep. It had a peaceful smile on both of its faces and it was breathing quietly and slowly, its great belly heaving up and down. The string was still tied round the end of its tail. A strange smoke seemed to drift away from the beast as it lay there, as if it was smouldering. But it wasn’t smoke – it was pure MoNsta pong. The horrible odour rose from the body in great wafts and clung in the air.

  Hubert turned to Knackerleevee. ‘I used to think you smelled a bit sometimes, but this is the stink to end

  all stinks.’ The Bogle grunted. He was not sure if Hubert had said something nice or not.

  For almost five minutes the companions just stood and gazed at the sleeping hulk, overwhelmed by the sheer size of the beast. Finally they withdrew a little and crouched down behind a large stalagmite.

  ‘What’s the plan?’ asked Knackerleevee.

  Belinda raised a cross eyebrow. ‘Do I have to think of everything? My idea was the string-thing. Now it’s somebody else’s turn to think. My brain’s having a rest.’

  The Bogle and Hubert gazed at each other. Neither of them had a weapon, and the MoNsta was far too big to manhandle in any way at all. They were filled with deep depression – to have risked life and limb to get this far and then find they couldn’t kill the beast! It was monstrous!

  Gordon the goatherd was standing up and leaning across the side of the stalagmite, staring intently at the MoNsta. He seemed to have overcome his grief, and now anger was taking over. His bony fingers gripped the edge of the stalagmite like fierce talons. His dark eyes were hard and shining and they fixed the beast with murderous intent.

  ‘That horrible heap ate my goats,’ he hissed. ‘It ate Mirabel and Flossy and Duncan and Bert and Barnaby and little Trixie and, and… every single one of them.’