by Jim Smith
‘What’s that, Delores, you can’t hear me because your ears have been stolen?’ mooed Dwayne, and Twoface glanced at Jamjar and raised all four of his eyebrows.
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‘Quick, before the robot grannies escape with Delores’s ears and Dr Smell’s nose!’ shouted Twoface, running over to the lifts and pressing the ‘Up’ button.
‘You can’t go up to Delores’s office which is on the top floor - you haven’t got an appointment!’ Dwayne mooed, as we squidged into the lift.
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‘Thanks for the tip!’ grinned Jamjar, pressing the top floor button and waving her four other hands goodbye, and the lift doors whooshed shut in Dwayne’s stupid-looking face.
The lift doors whooshed open twelve milliseconds later and we all tumbled out, me doing a hover-forward-roll because of how keel I am.
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I glanced through the windows of Delores’s office and spotted a bolt
of lightning in the distance, streaking across the sky like those blue liney bits you get in Stilton cheese. We’d have to hurry, otherwise I’d miss the storm.
‘Operation Get Delores’s Ears Back
For Her Then Head Outside Before It’s Too Late For Me And Not Bird To Get Zapped Home!’ I said to Not Bird, as we walked towards Delores.
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‘WAAAHHH!’ moo-screamed Delores, and I could understand why. I’d do a scream too if a boy with two faces, an alien with a big blue bald head, a
girl with five arms, a floating ratboy with a TV on his belly and a flying
toy bird started walking towards me. ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM MEEEE?!’ she moo-wailed, holding her hooves up, karate-style.
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Twoface put his hands on his hips, trying to look all superhero-ish. ‘Don’t be afraid, Delores, we’re here to help!’ he said, and she cupped her hooves behind the
holes where her ears
used to be.
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‘Pardon?’ she mooed. ‘I can’t hear
you. A weird-looking old metal lady carrying a nose under her arm just stole my ears!’ she said, and we all looked at each other, which took a lot longer than you’d imagine, seeing as there was quite a lot of us.
Jamjar pulled the Triangulator out
of her pocket, pointed it at Delores,
and started tapping. ‘Hmmm, that’s
curiokeels,’ she said. ‘My Triangulator’s
locator diodes are blocked - must be
the storm.’
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She looked up at Delores. ‘Did the killer robot granny say anything about where she was going next . . . or why she wanted your ears?’ she asked, pushing her glasses up her nose for the fifteen billionth time.
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‘I can’t hear you!’ mooed Delores, rolling her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes. ‘She just took my ears and clip-clopped off. Now all I can hear is this weird buzzing noise,’ she mooed, and I felt my tail do
a little waggle.
‘Buzzing . . .’ I muttered to myself, remembering how Dindle Frogshnoff had buzzed quite a lot, what
with him being a man-sized
fly and everything.
‘Maybe the killer robot grannies are going to steal Dindle Frogshnoff’s thirteen eyes next!’
I gasped.
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Twoface leaned his two superhero-ish faces up to my one ratty one. ‘Nice idea, Ratboy!’ he whispered. ‘Yeah Ratboy, mind if I pinch it?’ he grinned, and he turned to face the others. ‘Guys, I’ve got an idea!’ he boomed, clicking his fingers. ‘Maybe the
buzzing noise is coming from
Dindle Frogshnoff!’
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‘Hey, that was my idea!’ I shouted, running into the lift after Twoface and the gang, with my bin trailing behind me. Not that I was all that bothered about him stealing it, seeing as I was about to get zapped home.
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The storm was right above us, and we zoomed through the whooshing doors of the cheese factory and back over the bridge on to the island of Cheddar.
Jamjar, Splorg and Twoface jumped into the UFO as I scoffed donut number four, chucking the brown paper bag into my wheelie bin for safe keeping.
I climbed into the bin after it and tucked Not Bird under my arm, looking up at the storm cloud.
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‘Keel to meet you all, good luck with the killer robot grannies!’ I grinned, pulling the bin lid over my head, and everything went dark.
‘Any second now!’ I whispered to Not Bird, thinking back over our adventure, and Not Bird whisper-squawked a ‘NOT’.
‘Been fun, hasn’t it!’ I smiled, even though there wasn’t any point doing a smile, because Not Bird couldn’t see it in all
the pitch-blackness.
screeched Not Bird again, and I drummed my fingers against the inside of the
bin, wondering what the hold-up was with the lightning.
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‘Where is it?’ I said, reminding myself of my mum when we were waiting for a bus back in the past, and I pushed
the lid up a millimetre and peeked out.
Twoface, Jamjar and Splorg were sitting in the UFO, all eight of their eyes looking at me. ‘What?’ I said, which is what I say when I’m being stared at like that.
I shouted, and I flipped the lid up and stuck my whole head out.
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I peered into the sky and spotted the giant purple storm cloud, floating off into the distance. ‘My lightning!’ I cried, as Splorg jumped out of the UFO and lolloped over.
‘Looks like you missed your chance, Ratboy,’ he said, putting his arm round my shoulder, and I stared down into my bin at the paper bag of never-ending donuts. Not that I was hungry or anything, I just didn’t feel like looking at anyone.
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‘Me and my stupid plan to go and save Delores!’ I mumbled, my voice echoing inside the bin. ‘If only I’d kept my mouth shut I’d be home right now watching ATTACK OF THE KILLER ROBOT GRANNIES with my mum and dad and little sister . . .’
Not Bird fluttered next to my ear and took a deep breath. ‘NOT!’ he squawked, and my whole head wobbled, a bit like Splorg’s dad’s in that 3D photo from earlier.
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Jamjar jumped out of the UFO and Twoface squidged over into the driver’s seat. She pulled the Triangulator out of her pocket and tapped it with a few
of her fingers.
‘By my calkeelations, the probability of another lightning storm within the immediate proximity of Shnozville’s geographical coordinates is medium to high,’ she said, as Splorg grabbed the bin’s handle and dragged me over to the UFO.
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‘What do you reckon, Ratboy,’ he smiled, nodding at the UFO. ‘Fancy a ride back to Shnozville?’
‘I spose,’ I grumbled, clambering out of the bin and slotting it into the UFO’s back seat.
Twoface twizzled his faces round from the driver’s seat and smiled.
‘If it makes you feel any better, I was looking forward to you getting zapped by lightning!’ he chuckled, and I was just about to join in with his chuckle when my telly belly rumbled.
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‘Ratboy, your stomach!’ blurted Splorg, pointing at my belly, and I looked down. Staring out of it was a fuzzy, scared-looking Dindle Frogshnoff.
‘HELP ME!’ buzzed Dindle Frogshnoff,
his thirteen eyebrows all waggling, and
I suddenly forgot all about going home, at least for another half an hour or so.
‘Operation Save Dindle Frogshnoff!’ I boomed, leaping into the UFO with Not Bird under my arm.
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‘What in the unkeelness do Mr X and the killer robot grannies WANT with all these body parts?’ said Jamjar,
as Twoface steered the UFO down towards Shnozville nine and three- quarter minutes later, which isn’t bad, seeing as we’d flown all the way from the moon.
‘First they take Dr Smell’s nose, then they steal Delores’s ears.
Now they’re after Dindle Frogshnoff’s
thirteen eyes!’ she cried, as we
crashed into a tree.
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The UFO slid down a branch and bounced off the end, smashing in
half on the pavement like a giant egg.
That sounds a lot worse than it was, by the way.
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I climbed out, dragging my wheelie bin with me, and looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful afternoon and the sun was shining.
‘Oh my unkeelness!’ said Twoface, running across the road. Weirdly and luckeely, we’d crash-landed right in the spot where Dindle Frogshnoff had been attacked by a robot granny.
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‘Mr Frogshnoff!’ I cried, doing one of
my mahoosive gasps. Dindle Frogshnoff was lying on the pavement, his tablecloth wings splayed out underneath him. Dotted around on his face, where his thirteen eyes used to be, were thirteen no-eyes.
He sniffed his long, spindly nose in the air and smiled. ‘Colin!’ he said, recognising me from my smell, and I wondered if
I really stank or something. After all, I hadn’t changed my pants for millions
of years.
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‘Oh, Colin, it was terrible!’ cried Dindle, completely ignoring Twoface, who was standing right next to me. ‘Killer . . . robot . . . grannies,’ he sobbed, and I thanked keelness he hadn’t bored me with some long story about how his eyes had been stolen.
‘Did you see which way they went?’ I said, looking left and then right, and Twoface’s two faces scoffed.
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‘I’ll ask the superhero-ish questions, thank you very much, Ratboy!’ he said, looking left and right at the same time, just to show off. ‘Did you see which way they went,
Mr Frogshnoff?’ he smiled, and Dindle rolled his no-eyes.
Jamjar stepped forwards and
pulled out her Triangulator. ‘I know this sounds stupid, Dindle,’ she said, pointing it at him and tapping it with her finger, ‘but can you SEE anything inside your head?’
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said Dindle, not really understanding.
‘Well . . .’ said Jamjar, starting to explain. ‘When Dr Smell’s nose was stolen, he could actually SMELL where it’d gone. Same with Delores’s ears - she could HEAR your wings buzzing!’
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Dindle crumpled his face up and curled his nose into a coil, trying his keelest to SEE where his eyes had gone.
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‘WE MEET AGAIN, MR RATBOY,’ bleeped a robotty voice, and I turned round. Standing there were DOREEN XL97-220 and another robot granny with ‘PHYLLIS 1200L’ stamped into her
metal skirt.
Slotted on to PHYLLIS 1200L’s face was a huge pair of square glasses, their lenses the same width as Socky.
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‘NOT!’ screeched Not Bird, circling round the robot grannies like a furry little helicopter, and they waved their coily arms, trying to swat him away.
‘Killer robot grannies!’ cried Splorg, grabbing Not Bird and plonking him on his head. ‘Run for it!’ he screamed, heading down the road towards Bunny Deli.
‘YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU
CAN’T HIDE!’ bleeped
PHYLLIS 1200L, stomping
after him, and Splorg darted behind a lamppost and breathed in to make himself thinner.
PHYLLIS 1200L stomped straight past the lamppost, completely not seeing Splorg at all, even
though his nose was sticking out of one
side and his massive
blue back-of-head
was sticking out of
the other. She turned
left and stepped into
the road, falling
down a manhole
and smashing to smithereens at the bottom. Which
was handy.
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Twoface helped Dindle to his feet and we all started running after Splorg, me wheeling my bin behind them. DOREEN XL97-220 was clip-clopping after us in her high-heeled shoes, scrabbling her claw around in her handbag for something to throw
at us.
‘BUNNY DELI!’ croaked Dindle, his nose still in a coil.
‘Yes, that’s right Mr Frogshnoff, we’re going to Bunny Deli,’ said Twoface, smiling at Dindle with one of his faces, and a lipstick bonked him on the head.
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‘BUNNY DELI!’ croaked Dindle again, as a comb and one of those little round fold-up mirrors grannies carry around with them flew past his crumpled-up face.
Twoface sighed and sped his running up to superkeelness speed. ‘I heard you the first time, Dindle,’ he said, looking over at Jamjar. ‘I think he might’ve bumped his head on the pavement or something - he keeps saying “BUNNY DELI”!’ he whispered, and I spotted the giant plastic cheesebleurgher, chips and blue cup on top of Bunny Deli coming into view.
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DOREEN XL97-220 stopped chasing us and bent over to look at a familikeels little worm. It was familikeels because it was the same one I’d spotted going for a stroll underneath the angry-looking woman’s hover-trainers earlier that morning.
The worm was sitting outside a tiny
coffee shop, sipping on a cup of
coffee and watching the world go by.
‘DON’T MIND IF I DO!’ bleeped DOREEN XL97-220, pincering the worm with her claw and chomping it in half, and the sky rumbled, as if it was annoyed.
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I glanced up in the sky and spotted a giant purple cloud. ‘Must be that storm Jamjar was talking about!’ I cried to Not Bird, but he was too busy looking at the half a worm that was left in DOREEN XL97-220’s claw to take any notice of me.
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A worm waiter ran out of the coffee shop, waggling his broom in the air.
‘No eating the customers!’ he wailed, clearing the chomped-in-half worm’s coffee away, and Dindle opened his mouth to speak again, even though
we all knew what he was going to say.
‘BUNNY DELI!’
he croaked, and Twoface stopped running and put his hands on his hips.
‘Would you STOP saying BUNNY DELI!’ he boomed, as my telly belly started
to fizzle.
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I looked down at my telly belly and spotted a scared-looking Bunny, waggling her ten arms.
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‘BUNNY!’ screamed Jamjar, turning to point her Triangulator towards Bunny Deli. ‘No wonder Dindle’s been saying BUNNY DELI so much - that must be where his eyes are!’ she gasped.
Twoface screwed his two faces into one stupid-looking one, trying to work out what was going on. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘Neither do I!’ he said again.
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Jamjar grabbed Twoface by the shoulders and pushed her glasses up her nose, which is the kind of thing you
can only really do if you’ve got at least three arms.
‘Don’t you see - if Dindle’s eyes are
at Bunny Deli, that means the robot granny who’s got them is there too!’ she said, and Twoface double-gasped. ‘And if Bunny is on Ratboy’s telly belly, that means she’s in big trouble. Maybe a granny is trying to steal her ten arms!’ Jamjar cried, running off towards Bunny Deli again.