by Andy Riley
“Are you talking about making Globulus toys?” said Emperor Nurbison. “Ha! Why would anybody in the world want a toy of you? Oh, Globulus, you are funny sometimes. You make me ‘foo hoo hoo hoo,’ you really do.”
Globulus knew the emperor liked his laugh to echo in a frightening way if they were on a stone staircase, so—with a sigh—he turned up the echo knob on the wall.
At last they came to a chamber at the top of the tower. Below a huge window was a tiny chair. And in the chair sat Miss Dolly-Chops, the stolen magical doll.
Half the hair was missing from her head.
“It took ages to cut off tiny bits of her magic hair, then stick them to the chins of all those dolls,” said the emperor. “Used up all the glue sticks in my crafting box. But oh, it was worth it. For tonight, the moon shall be full! If my calculations are correct, Globulus—and I did once get a gold star for Evil Math at school, so they should be—the moon will rise over those hills precisely … now!”
Emperor Nurbison and Globulus waited. No moon.
“Precisely … now!” said the emperor again. Still no moon.
Then the emperor remembered the clocks had been turned back a couple of days before, so moonrise would be an hour later.
Nurbison and Globulus went downstairs and played some table tennis for a bit, then came up again.
“AS I WAS SAYING,” said the emperor. “The full moon shall rise over those hills exactly, definitely, and precisely … NOW!”
The chalky white circle glided over the horizon. Its cold, moony beams touched the enchanted hair of Miss Dolly-Chops.
The hair began to gleam with a dazzling black light. I bet you’ve never seen a ray of dazzling black light before. Neither had the emperor or Globulus.
“Kind of totally wow and all of that!” said Globulus.
Miss Dolly-Chops sat up.
“I am Miss Dolly-Chops!” she said in a voice that tinkled like a mountain stream.
“It’s alive, it’s alive!” said Emperor Nurbison. “The magic hair really works! Hair that I have stolen for my evil plans.
FOO HOO HOO HOO!”
“But how? My stunning locks are all here on my dainty—”
She touched her stubbly head.
“AAAAAAHHHH! MY HAAIIIRRR!” said Miss Dolly-Chops.
“Half of it’s over there in Edwinland, my dear. On the chins of a thousand dolls. Mixed with a little bit of hair from someone else.”
The emperor pulled off his false beard and stroked his bare face.
“And that hair will give them a certain personality … FOO HOO HOO!”
* * *
Back in Edwinland, lit by the full moon, the toys came to life.
“I am Nurbison!” said one.
“I am Nurbison!” said another.
And all across the kingdom, the cry went up.
8.
So … Many … Nurbisons …
All that night, King Edwin Flashypants tossed and turned. He couldn’t stop thinking about Megan. He was still angry with her, but he was beginning to feel bad about the things he had said. And he was very sad that she had gone.
Well, this is a new mood, he thought. I’ve never felt quite this way before. I should give it a name, like “angry-sorry.” Or “guilty-grumps” or “whoops-grrr.”
When he finally got to sleep, he had a bad dream. He dreamed that Emperor Nurbison was standing on his chest, except Nurbison looked like an angry crossing guard.
When Edwin woke up, there was an angry Crossing Guard Nurbison doll standing on his chest.
The king pinched himself to make sure he was really awake. Ouch! Yes, he was.
“Your kingdom belongs to Nurbison!” said the figure. It jabbed Edwin on the nose with the sharp end of the stop sign, just to prove the point.
It was true. The magical toys had seized Edwinland while everyone slept.
Centurion Alisha had put up a fight.
The trouble was, she had bought more Nurbison dolls than anyone. A Matador Nurbison pulled down her helmet while a Ninja Nurbison grabbed her sword. Then a Wrestler Nurbison stamped on her toes and tripped her. There were so many dolls that there was nothing anyone could do to stop them.
Edwinland had only one village. It was called Village. And soon, an army of dolls paraded Edwin and Jill around it.
“Here is your king! Here is your minister!” bellowed an Explorer Nurbison to a crowd of peasants. “They rule no more!”
“So I suppose Emperor Nurbison had an evil plan after all,” said Edwin. “Probably something to do with the dolls being magic.”
“Probably that, yes,” said Minister Jill with a sigh.
Just then, the real, life-size Emperor Nurbison strode into Village. He walked very quickly, because he had written a brand-new and much faster striding theme for the marching band who followed him. The old striding theme had gotten only a two-star review in Evil Ruler Monthly magazine. Nurbison fumed for a whole week.
The emperor suddenly stopped striding—which caught the band by surprise. They all piled up behind him. Trombones crunched into banjos, which barged into bagpipes. The sound was like a whale chewing a mouthful of tin cans and fart cushions.
“Idiots of Edwinland!” said the emperor. “You really believed that I had turned into a nice man selling lovely toys! All part of my wicked game, of course. With magic hair from my magic doll, and just a sprinkle of hair from my own beautiful face, I knew the toys would come to life as little versions of me. Just as nasty! Just as cruel! Just as keen to seize Edwinland! FOO HOO HOO HOO!”
All the dolls “Foo hoo hoo hooed” with him.
“You have done well, dolls. But I’m here now, so I’m in charge. First, make me a huge ice throne from the frozen tears of my enemies. Then bring me an eighteen-inch pizza with a topping of roasted baby seals. And then—”
A Beekeeper Nurbison stepped forward.
“But I am in charge! Because I am Nurbison!” he said.
“No, I am in charge, for I am Nurbison!” said a Clown Nurbison.
Too late, the real Emperor Nurbison saw his mistake. Yes, all the toys wanted to take over Edwinland because they had the emperor’s personality. He’d gotten that much right. But he’d missed something. Because they had his personality, every single toy wanted to be the boss.
A mob of dolls knocked the real emperor to the dusty ground.
“I am on the dusty ground!” croaked Emperor Nurbison, spitting out dust from his dusty mouth. “How dare you! I am your master, you horrid dolls!”
“Horrid action figures,” said a Special Forces Soldier Nurbison.
“Silence!” said a Strongman Nurbison. “Now hear this! I will rule you all because I am the strongest. The clue is in the name. Strong … man. Strongman.”
Wrestler Nurbison punched Strongman Nurbison into a hedge.
“No! I shall rule!” said the wrestler.
“I hardly think so,” said a voice as sweet as the sprinkles on a birthday cake.
Megan’s Princess Nurbison bounced forward. She was still in two pieces, but both halves of her had come to life in the night.
She fought the wrestler. Because she was in two parts, she could poke him in the eye and kick him in the butt all at the same time. And the wrestler was no match for her Pointy-Hat Attack.
“I shall rule!” she said. “Anyone have a problem with that?”
“Er, yeah, I do,” said Globulus. “There’s only one proper emperor here, and he’s, you know, had a lot of experience on the job, so—”
The princess booted Globulus, who landed on a compost heap.
“All hail Princess Nurbison!” shouted the toys. “ALL HAIL PRINCESS NURBISON!”
* * *
Far away, beyond Edwinland and Nurbisonia, in the jungle of Lim-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo, Megan the Jester sat on a log. She’d been walking all night in jester shoes, and her feet were tired. Jester shoes are made for prancing, not walking.
She couldn’t find a name for the
way she felt, but it was a lot like “angry-sorry,” and quite “whoops-grrrr,” with just a touch of “guilty-grumps.” It was bad of Edwin and Jill to break her doll, but Megan had thought about it for a while now, and she’d realized they wouldn’t have done it without a good reason. But Megan had been so furious that she hadn’t asked what that reason was.
And now I’ve left Edwinland, she thought. I’ve nobody to jest at. If I can’t be a jester, I just don’t know who I am.
A little lizard scuttled across the log. Megan had an idea.
“I’ll be your jester, Lady Lizard of Lim-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo-Bloo! Let the amusements begin!”
Megan strummed her lute and told jokes that she thought a reptile might get.
Q: What do you call a lizard who goes moo?
A: A cow-meleon!
Q: What kind of snake is good at math?
A: An adder!
Q: Doctor, doctor! I keep thinking I’m a boa constrictor.
A: You can’t get around me like that, you know.
The lizard blinked.
Then it pitter-pattered away into the trees.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” said Megan. “What shall become of me?”
She picked up her stick and handkerchief, and on she walked. But with a little bit of a sniff. And a little bit of a tear.
9.
Teamwork
“She keeps saying ‘Foo hoo hoo hoo!’ That’s my evil laugh!”
The emperor spun around. Edwin, Jill, and Globulus ducked to avoid the drops of water that flew from Nurbison’s fingertips.
Evil emperors never dry their hands properly after going to the bathroom.
“She stole it from me! That’s just evil! And being evil is fantastic—I’m not saying it isn’t—but … Oh, you know what I mean!”
The four of them had been locked in King Edwin’s bedroom for ages, while Princess Nurbison decided what to do with them.
“But we’ve got lots of games,” said Edwin. “We’ve got travel chess, giant chess, and chess. I don’t like being locked up either, but at least my room’s a fun place to be locked up.”
“No, no, no, no, no, no!” said the emperor. “It’s my room, just like this is my castle. I claim all of Edwinland. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
Edwin put his superhero helmet on.
Nurbison pulled the helmet off and hurled it away. Some ends of tape were still hanging off it, so it stuck to Globulus.
“Just for a while, why don’t we have an Edwin half of the room and a Nurbison half of the room?” said Minister Jill.
Edwin got a felt-tip pen. He and the emperor gripped it together, then drew a line across the middle of the floor.
Both of them kept trying to push the pen to make their half bigger, so the line wobbled and zigzagged across the wooden boards.
“Oh, we’re both being silly,” said Edwin. “Here we are squabbling, when evil toys have taken over both our kingdoms. Maybe we should work together to get rid of them.”
“What a horrible day this is,” said the emperor. “First my enchanted dolls turn against me, then I’m locked in a bedroom, then I find myself thinking, King Edwin’s right.”
“Your Majesty? A private word,” said Minister Jill. She and Edwin went into Edwin’s old playhouse. It was toddler-size, but it was better than nothing.
“Work with the evil emperor?” whispered Jill. “Who is definitely still evil? Are you quite sure, Edwin?”
“Totally sure. Mostly sure. A bit sure,” said Edwin. “But you have to admit he can be very clever. We could use his brains at the moment.”
Edwin and Jill stepped out of the playhouse. Nurbison and Globulus jumped back, pretending they hadn’t been listening at the door.
Edwin held out his hand.
Nurbison shook it.
It was the olden days, and cameras hadn’t been invented yet. So Globulus drew a very good picture of this historic moment.
“Erm, sort of, hooray, type of thing!” said Globulus.
Soon Jill stood at Edwin’s chalkboard, chalk in hand. At the top of the board, she wrote:
“Righty ho!” said Jill. “We need some ideas. Let’s get creative.”
King Edwin put up his hand and said, “I’ve got one. What about if we—”
“No,” said Emperor Nurbison.
“Okay then,” said Edwin. “Let’s see if we can—”
“No,” said Nurbison.
“Then what about—”
“No.”
“Or we could—”
“No.”
“We could try to—”
“No.”
“Or let’s—”
“No.”
“Emperor, really,” said Jill. “How do you know if the ideas are good or bad before you’ve even heard them?”
The emperor looked at her like she was being very silly indeed.
“How can they be good ideas if it wasn’t me who thought them up?” he said.
“We’re going to hear each other’s ideas, no matter how daft they might seem,” insisted Jill.
Globulus put up his hand.
“We could, like, trap all the toys in my hat,” he said.
You couldn’t even fit one doll in Globulus’s hat, never mind thousands. It really was the worst idea Jill had ever heard. But she had to play by her own rules, so she wrote it on the chalkboard.
Hours passed. The board filled up with ideas, ideas, and more ideas. But deep down, Jill knew none of them would work.
Then Emperor Nurbison noticed something. There was still a little strip of tape stuck to Globulus’s nose.
Because tape is almost see-through, nobody had spotted it.
“Wait, you’ve got tape!” said the emperor. “That’s useful for loads of things. Let’s think about tape.”
Edwin ran to his superhero-costume-making table and found two rolls of tape.
“Minister Jill? Please wipe the board clean!” said King Edwin. “I think we’ve just had the idea. Not an idea. The idea.”
A few minutes later, Jill banged on the locked bedroom door.
“What?” said the Ninja Nurbison doll on the other side.
“We request an audience with Her Majesty Princess Nurbison,” said the minister.
10.
The Princess Will See You Now
King Edwin, Emperor Nurbison, Minister Jill, and Globulus walked into the throne room. A sea of Nurbison doll faces glared back at them.
Both halves of Princess Nurbison sat on Edwin’s throne.
“Greetings, fools!” said the princess. “Have you met my future wife?”
Next to the princess was a scared-looking Miss Dolly-Chops.
“That’s right! We’re getting married,” said the princess. “And yes, two lady dolls can get married. This is the modern world. Get used to it. Now, feeble rulers of yesteryear, what do you want?”
“We wish to proclaim you the rightful ruler of these lands,” said Edwin. “Edwinland and Nurbisonia are yours forever.”
“So we came to hand you our precious crowns,” said the emperor.
He and Edwin took the crowns from their heads.
“All dolls in the room should make sure to get a really good look. You’ll definitely want to laugh at us,” said Edwin.
“Indeed,” said the emperor. “So—and this is just an idea—you should probably form two lines. Two very long, very straight lines.”
“Dolls? Form two lines!” said the princess.
“And if they stood on tall stools they’d get a really good view,” said Edwin.
“Yes, stools!” said the emperor. “Such a good idea from a child wise beyond his years.”
said the princess.
Frightened peasants fetched stools for the dolls.
“And now,” said the princess, “bring me the crowns.”
Slowly, very slowly, Edwin and Emperor Nurbison shuffled down the middle of the hall, between the two lines of dolls—who chuckled a deep “foo hoo hoo h
oo.” They were so busy “foo hoo hooing” at the king and the emperor that there was something they didn’t spot.
Long pieces of tape trailed from the crowns. The two bits of tape went all the way back to Globulus and Jill, who each had a roll spinning on a finger.
“Why are you walking so slowly? Get a move on!” said Princess Nurbison. But the king and the emperor couldn’t risk speeding up. If the tape broke or fell off, the whole plan would be ruined.
As they neared the throne, the princess narrowed her eyes.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “What’s that stuck to the crowns? Is it … tape? What are you trying to—”
“Now!” said Edwin.
The king jumped to the left. The emperor jumped to the right. They pressed those long trails of tape up against the chins of the dolls.
“Mmmffmmmmnnpphh!” said a surprised Ballerina Nurbison through the tape.
“Mmgrrrmmph!” said a Jockey Nurbison.
“Mmmmrrrgrrmmph!” said a Sailor Nurbison.
“Grmmphmmph!” said a Funkalicious Nurbison.
You get the idea.
“And … throw!” said Edwin.
He and the emperor flung their crowns high in the air … RIPPING away the tape from the dolls’ chins and taking all the enchanted hair with them. The Nurbison dolls flopped to the ground. Without their magic beards, they were just ordinary dolls again.
All except the one on the throne.
“You destroyed my army!” screamed Princess Nurbison. “Now you shall feel my anger!
KUNG-FU ATTACK!”
The princess’s hands and feet were a blur as both halves of her jabbed and pummeled Edwin, Emperor Nurbison, Jill, and Globulus into a corner of the throne room.
“POINTY-HAT ATTACK!” said Princess Nurbison, backing into the opposite corner so she would build up some speed.