by Steve Cole
“You will never reach it!” came a grating groan from above them.
“Moodolph’s on our trail,” said Bo grimly. The next moment, a red laser beam blew up a bush close by! “Come on, Daisy, keep going. We must keep going!”
Weaving in and out of Moodolph’s laser bolts, the cows galloped over the top of a hill.
“There’s the Time Shed!” Bo cried. “Come on, just a little further!”
Desperately, the two cows rode the final few hundred metres to reach the battered old building. Bo could see a glowing orange ball, sparking with weird energy just beside the door.
“That’s what I’ve got to switch off,” said Daisy, jumping down from her exhausted horse.
But then, Moodolph swooped down from the sky and landed just in front of them – blocking their way.
“No!” Bo shouted.
“Now you cannot reach the power interface,” rasped Moodolph. “And I shall ter-moo-nate you.”
“Shut it, steak-breath.” Bo leaped from her stallion. “We don’t have to reach your stupid power interface to sort it out – because we’ve got something you don’t. Milk-cow power.”
Daisy grinned as she got Bo’s meaning. “That should do the trick . . .”
Moodolph’s nose turned dark red as he powered it up for a mega-blast. “Prepare to die!”
“Prepare for a double milkshake!” Bo shouted back, hitching up her skirts. “Cows in Action – hi-yaaa!”
An enormous squoosh of milk burst from both cows’ udders, jetting past Moodolph’s shoulders and showering the power interface. The glowing orange ball crackled and sizzled, and black smoke swirled out from inside it.
“No!” Moodolph swung round in alarm to see. But his over-charged nose could no longer contain its laser energy. It burst out in a red, sparking torrent – and blew up the interface!
“Ha!” squealed Daisy, hopping up and down with glee. “The C.I.A. might have made your plan possible – but in the end it was you who stopped it!”
“Nooooooooooo!” Moodolph warbled.
“Come on, Daisy, let’s squirt him too!” laughed Bo.
The ter-moo-nator glubbed and snorted as the cows’ milk sprayed and sizzled over his circuits. “Mission abort!” He fumbled for his portable time machine, a silver disk hidden behind his chest plate. “Unhappy Christmas! Mission abort . . .”
He clanked onto the disk and disappeared in a puff of green and red smoke . . .
Pat braced himself while the surrounding ter-moo-turkeys prepared to pounce. Renouf tried to defend Tostain with his broken sword. Professor McMoo backed away as an evil beak opened wide . . .
But then suddenly, the turkey about to nip him went cross-eyed and flew backwards. It smashed into two more of the metal monsters, sending electric shocks through them. They jumped and gobbled in electronic surprise, flapping about in circles.
“What’s happening?” asked Tostain in a daze.
“Run!” McMoo commanded. “While they’re distracted . . .”
But Pat saw the street beyond was alive with coils of fairy lights and tinsel, slithering through the snow towards them. “It’s too late!”
“Never say die, Pat,” McMoo told him – then smiled as the fairy lights began to smoke, and the snow started to boil around them. “Try saying, ‘energy feedback from the power interface is destroying the F.B.I.’s Christmas killers’ instead. It’s much more fun!”
Pat stared around in amazement. The electronic turkeys were falling to bits. Candy canes were plummeting from the sky and shattering. Baubles bumped together and broke apart, and the holly-bats simply blinked out of existence with a thousand high-pitched pops.
“They did it . . .” Pat smiled. “Bo and Daisy – somehow, they did it!”
“They scrambled the power supply,” McMoo agreed happily, as all the fairy lights faded away. “And the energy surge has caused Daisy’s Short-Life Replicas to vanish a little earlier than Moodolph would have liked.”
“Then there will be just one of each of the decorations left behind,” Pat realized.
McMoo nodded. “And one cyber-turkey too. Much easier to clean up.” He crossed to where a limp, silver figure lay on the snowy ground, and scooped it up. “And how do you like that – Rover must have been the real one! With a bit of tinkering he’ll be as good as new and still on our side.”
The robot gave him a wonky wink.
“Look!” Renouf pointed across the square, which was starting to fill up with bewildered Saxons. “There’s quite a crowd coming.”
Tostain crouched beside William the Conqueror. “Wake up, your grace. Quick!”
“The menace of the deadly decorations is over!” McMoo proclaimed to the people. “The ’orrible Ethelbad was behind everything – but Duke William here has put things right!”
“What’s that?” said William, dizzily trying to stand. “Oh, yes, that’s right. Of course I did!”
“Hail our new king!” someone shouted, and soon many others were joining in.
“No!” wailed Ethelbad, pushing through the crowd with his men, red-faced and worn out. “It’s not fair. Everything’s gone wrong! I was going to rule – whoops!” He tripped up, and his helmet fell off – to reveal a shiny pink patch on top of his head.
“Ethelbad!” someone laughed. “Ethelbald, more like!”
“Push off, smelly!” shouted someone else, and soon the whole crowd was booing Ethelbad and his followers.
“I shall drive these bullying upstarts from the city for you, my friends!” shouted William. “Come, Renouf! Come, Tostain! Come, all!”
With a rousing cheer, the Norman knights charged after their master. The Saxon crowds applauded, and Ethelbad’s men turned on their heels and ran for it. Seeing his cause was lost, Ethelbad finally gave up and ran away too.
“That’s good.” McMoo smiled. “William seems to be back in favour! He will get his crown, and England will get a new start.” The professor steered Pat away down the slushy, decoration-free streets. “And we had better make a start too – on all the repairs the Time Shed’s going to need!”
Pat and Bo stopped off at Bettie Barmas’s house and fixed her wagon. Then they loaded Daisy’s workbench and all her other future things onto the back of it. Pat jumped on top. McMoo tugged his ringblender from his nose and got busy pulling the cart like a true bull.
“I hope the real Bettie won’t get into trouble for handing out those dodgy decorations,” said Pat.
“I’m sure William will give her a royal pardon,” said McMoo. “In any case, built like that I think she’s more than able to take care of herself!”
Forty minutes later they had reached the Time Shed. Bo ran up and hugged them both, and they all swapped stories. Daisy, meanwhile, used all her electrical skills on the Time Shed’s broken systems.
“Old Moodolph sucked out a lot of power,” she reported. “But there’s just enough to jump-start her and drive back to 2550 for repairs.”
Pat blinked. “How on Earth do you jump-start a shed?”
“Simple,” said McMoo. “I’ll just let a little of that lighter-than-air time-power leak out like I did before.” He waggled his cyber-turkey. “And once we’re up in the air, good old Rover here can give us a tow!”
“I’ll rig up a force-field so you can steer the little turkey trooper from the roof,” Daisy offered.
“Brilliant!” cried McMoo, shinning up the side of the shed. “Let’s get going!”
Pat and Bo unloaded the wagon, McMoo and Daisy did their bits of repairs, and by nightfall they were ready to go. McMoo had rigged up a harness for Rover, and was wearing his Santa hat to keep warm up on the roof.
“I just thought of something,” said Pat suddenly. “Bo, what happens every Christmas Eve?”
Bo shrugged. “Farmer Christmoos flies through the night sky on top of a big barn pulled by turkeys, delivering presents to farm animals all over the world . . .” She gasped and looked up at McMoo. “Professor, you look just like him!”
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“Blimey, you’re right!” said Daisy. “What if a certain bull is watching when we take off? What if that’s where the real Farmer Christmoos gets the idea from?”
Pat gulped. “That will mean we’ve changed history!”
“Oh, ‘changed’ is a bit strong,” said McMoo, grinning. “Let’s think of it as us leaving history – and all the farmyard animals to come – a little Christmas present . . . But not a word to Yak!” He winked down at his friends. “Giddy up, Rover . . .”
“Are we off?” asked Bo.
“No time like the present.” McMoo sighed happily. “And no present like the Christmas present. Merry Christmoos, everyone!”
“Merry Christmoos!” cheered the others.
Daisy, Bo and Pat went inside, and Rover began to flap his metal wings. The Time Shed rose slowly into the air, and the cyber-turkey towed it away into the night sky, his metal bits and pieces jingling like sleigh bells.
“Woo-hooooo!” McMoo cheered, his Santa hat billowing in the wintry breeze.
Higher and faster they went, soaring way above the quiet, snowy fields and hillsides of William’s new land. Then the engines kicked in properly, the Time Shed glowed like a magical shooting star, and slowly faded from sight . . . carrying the Cows in Action from Christmas long-ago into the sparkling, festive future.
THE END
About the Author
Born in 1971, Steve Cole spent a happy childhood in rural Bedfordshire being loud and aspiring to amuse. He liked books, and so went to the University of East Anglia to read more of them. Later on he started writing them too, with titles ranging from pre-school poetry to Young Adult thrillers (with more TV and film tie-ins than he cares to admit to along the way). In other careers he has been the editor of Noddy magazine, and an editor of fiction and nonfiction book titles for various publishers. He is the author of the hugely successful Astrosaurs, Cows in Action, Astrosaurs Academy and Slime Squad series.
Also by Steve Cole:
[ASTROSAURS]
Riddle of the Raptors
The Hatching Horrow
The Seas of Doom
The Mind-Swap Menace
The Skies of Fear
The Space Ghosts
Day of the Dino-Droids
The Terror-Bird Trap
The Planet of Peril
The Star Pirates
The Claws of Christmas
The Sun-Snatchers
Revenge of the Fang
The Carnivore Curse
The Dreams of Dread
The Robot Raiders
The Twist of Time
The Sabre-Tooth Secret
The Forest of Evil
Earth Attack!
The T-Rex Invasion
The Castle of Frankensaur
[ASTROSAURS ACADEMY]
Destination: Danger!
Contest Carnage!
Terror Underground!
Jungle Horror!
Deadly Drama!
Christmas Crisis!
Volcano Invaders!
Space Kidnap!
[COWS IN ACTION]
The Ter-Moo-nators
The Moo-my’s Curse
The Roman Moo-stery
The Wild West Moo-nster
World War Moo
The Battle for Christmoos
The Pirate Moo-tiny
The Moogic of Merlin
The Victorian Moo-ders
The Moo-lympic Games
First Cows on the Mooon
The Viking Emoo-gency
The Udderly Moo-vellous C.I.A. Joke Book
[SLIME SQUAD]
Slime Squad Vs The Fearsome Fists
Slime Squad Vs The Toxic Teeth
Slime Squad Vs The Cyber Poos
Slime Squad Vs The Supernatural Squid
Slime Squad Vs The Killer Socks
Slime Squad Vs The Last Chance Chicken
Slime Squad Vs The Alligator Army
Slime Squad Vs The Conquering Conks
For older readers:
Z. Rex
Z. Raptor
Z. Apocalypse
THE BATTLE FOR CHRISTMOOS
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 448 17480 5
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2013
Text copyright © Steve Cole, 2008
Cover illustration © Andy Parker, 2008
Interior illustrations copyright © Woody Fox, 2008
First Published in Great Britain
Red Fox 9781862305397 2008
The right of Steve Cole to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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