Slime Squad vs the Conquering Conks

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Slime Squad vs the Conquering Conks Page 1

by Steve Cole




  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Map of Trashland

  Once Upon a Slime . . .

  Chapter One: Morning of Mysteries

  Chapter Two: Sniffing out Trouble

  Chapter Three: Up to Nose Good

  Chapter Four: Tissue Attack!

  Chapter Five: Plane Crazy!

  Chapter Six: Nose-Go Area

  Chapter Seven: The Great Quest

  Chapter Eight: Not to Be Sniffed at

  Chapter Nine: Surrender!

  Chapter Ten: The Conks’ Final Blow

  Also by Steve Cole

  Copyright

  About the Book

  IT'S TIME TO FIGHT CRIME WITH SLIME!

  Plog, Furp, Zill and Danjo aren’t just monsters in a rubbish dump. They are crime-busting super-monsters, here to save their whiffy world!

  From the depth of the Nosepick Ocean come the ultimate bogeymen – rampaging conk-monsters with killer tissues for pets! Can even the Slime Squad keep them from conquering the world? Who Nose?!

  For Ann Giles

  The most wicked Bookwitch

  ONCE UPON A SLIME . . .

  The old rubbish dump was far from anywhere. An enormous, mucky, rusty landscape of thousands of thrown-away things.

  It had been closed for years. Abandoned. Forgotten.

  And then Godfrey Gunk came along.

  Godfrey wasn’t just a mad scientist. He was a SUPER-BONKERS scientist! And he was very worried about the amount of pollution and rubbish in the world. His dream was to create marvellous mutant mini-monsters out of chemical goo – monsters who would clean up the planet by eating, drinking and generally devouring all types of trash. So Godfrey bought the old rubbish dump as the perfect testing-ground and got to work.

  Of course, he wanted to make good, friendly, peaceful monsters, so he was careful to keep the nastiest, most toxic chemicals separate from the rest. He worked for years and years . . .

  And got nowhere.

  In the end, penniless and miserable, Godfrey wrecked his lab, scattered his experiments all over the dump, and moved away, never to return.

  But what Godfrey didn’t know was that long ago, tons of radioactive sludge had been accidentally dumped there. And soon, its potent powers kick-started the monster chemistry the mad scientist had tried so hard to create!

  Life began to form. Amazing mini-monsters sprang up with incredible speed. Bold, inventive monsters, who made a wonderful, whiffy world for themselves from the rubbish around them – a world they named Trashland.

  For many years, they lived and grew in peace. But then the radiation reached a lead-lined box in the darkest corner of the rubbish dump – the place where Godfrey had chucked the most toxic, dangerous gunk of all.

  Slowly, very slowly, monsters began to grow here too.

  Different monsters.

  Evil monsters that now threaten the whole of Trashland.

  Only one force for good stands against them. A small band of slightly sticky superheroes . . .

  The Slime Squad!

  Chapter One

  MORNING OF MYSTERIES

  Early-rising monsters were the first to notice the message in the sky. It had appeared mysteriously overnight, hanging high over the whiffy streets of Trashland in big smoky letters. Within minutes, masses more monsters were gazing out of windows or gathering in the streets, wondering what the words meant:

  Monsters everywhere knew that Plog was the shaggy leader of the Slime Squad – those super-cool superheroes who kept Trashland safe from diabolical masterminds. But who would leave such an extravagant message? What was the danger?

  And – YUCK! – who exactly had been smooching with Plog . . .?

  “Attention!” The electronic bark of the All-Seeing PIE echoed through the Slime Squad’s secret underground base. “Come to my office. Let’s be having you! SHIFT YOURSELVES!”

  “All right, all right!” Plog rolled out of his padded-envelope bed and checked the time. “It’s not even six o’clock in the morning!”

  PIE, short for Perfect Intelligent Electronics, was the brains behind the Slime Squad. He was a mega-computer with sensors scattered all over Trashland, perfectly placed to spot trouble brewing – and when he did, he tipped off the Squad and sent them to deal with it.

  Something dangerous must be kicking off, thought Plog.

  He barged out of his bedroom and hurried along the corridor to PIE’s office, an enormous, messy, human-sized room. The battered computer sat right in the middle, his screen bright green and covered in exclamation marks.

  “Look out of the window!” PIE snapped.

  Plog’s jaw dropped as he saw the cloudy message in the sky. It dropped so far it almost bounced off the waterlogged boots he wore at all times – for whenever his feet were dry, disgusting slime oozed out with a pong strong enough to knock out a nuclear gibbon.

  “First smooch?” he spluttered. “Who’s C.K.? I don’t understand. That message must be meant for another Plog.”

  “I don’t think so, Fur-boy.” Zill Billie, a black-and-white she-monster, had swung into the room on a strand of sticky slime. Part poodle, part skunk, with six legs and a big brushy tail, she was the Squad’s super-cool slime-slinger – and right now she was wearing pink pyjamas and a very worried look. “When I see the letters C.K. together, someone very nasty springs to mind.”

  As Zill spoke, a yellow frog-monster in big metal pants and a crash helmet sprang into the room – it was Furp LeBurp, the chemistry whizz whose slimy hands and feet let him stick to any surface. “C.K., you say?” He jumped onto the window and stuck there, peering out. “Good gonkberries, it simply has to be her, doesn’t it?”

  “Has to be who?” Plog demanded.

  “How could you forget the monster who almost smooched you to death, Plog?” said PIE tetchily. “This message in the sky must have been left by . . . Countess Kiss!”

  “Oh, no!” Plog slapped his forehead so hard he almost fell over. “How could I forget that ratbag?”

  An old picture of Countess Kiss appeared on PIE’s cracked screen: she was tall, thin and bony, wearing a white raincoat, her clawed hands resting on her hips. In place of a face she had an enormous pair of lips, with two little green eyes perched on top. Hoop earrings (or rather lip-rings) dangled down at either side.

  Plog shuddered at the memory of their first meeting. The countess had snogged his snout with breath so stinky it almost melted his brain! “We haven’t seen her since we stopped her toxic tooth-monster,” he murmured. “I wonder what she wants?”

  “It’s a trick, I’ll bet,” Zill declared.

  Furp nodded. “If there’s a danger to Trashland it’s most likely her and those Gruesome Gobs who serve her – Sukka and Blowdart.”

  “Incorrect,” PIE warbled. The picture on his screen changed to show a short film of a red blob and a blue blob with battered suitcases running up a sludgy hillside until they vanished from sight. “Sukka and Blowdart left Trashland in a rush last Thursday, heading east over the Gunk Glaciers towards the human world. They have not returned.”

  Zill shook her head, and her pom-poms wobbled. “Countess Kiss and the Gruesome Gobs were one mean team. Why would the Gobs split without their mistress?”

  “Perhaps she tried to snog them,” Plog suggested.

  “My sensors have detected many other dangerous monsters leaving Trashland,” PIE revealed. “The Fearsome Fists you fought fled last Wednesday. A bunch of Maggot Men moved out last Monday.” He flashed up a picture of something fierce and blobby with fifteen bottoms and one leg. “And I have no idea what this thing is, bu
t it hopped out of Trashland’s Darkest Corner two days ago.”

  “Why are so many bad guys leaving?” wondered Plog, turning back to the window. “I mean, I’m glad to see the back of them, but what’s made them go?”

  “Countess Kiss may have the answers,” said PIE. “You must meet her as she asks – as soon as Danjo arrives.”

  Zill looked around for the fourth and final Squaddie. “Is he still asleep?”

  “No,” said PIE, “he is upgrading the Slime-mobile’s engines and steering systems.”

  “All done!” Danjo Jigg, a crimson crab-monster, swaggered in. He was covered in oil. “Let me freshen up and I’ll be right with you.” Holding up his big left pincer, he doused himself with steaming hot slime, then blasted his body with a spray of icy slime from his right pincer. “Brrr, that’s better!” Clean again, he beamed round at his friends. “I thought I heard PIE’s alarm go off while I was tuning the turbo booster. What’s up . . .?” He trailed off as he saw the message through the window. “Oh, NO! Must be from that lippy old miss – Countess Kiss!”

  “And I have just spied her,” PIE said proudly. “She is sitting in a box in the alleyway beside the Dentists-R-Us building in Spare Part Canyon.”

  “That’s where we first met her, all right,” Plog confirmed. “Can you show us?”

  The scene on PIE’s screen shifted once again – to reveal the countess, half-hidden by cardboard, looking very sorry for herself. Her raincoat was torn and dirty, her lips looked chapped, and her green eyes were full of tears.

  “She looks a mess!” Zill shook her head. “What’s happened to her?”

  “Wait!” PIE squawked suddenly. “More importantly – what has happened to the Nosepick Ocean?” His screen flicked to show a filthy beach beside a thick, pale-green sea.

  “This is a view from the Car Wreck Coast. The level of the Nosepick Ocean has dropped by more than half overnight – without explanation. And my sensors detect it is still going down.”

  Suddenly – SQUELCH! The screen went dark.

  “Warning!” warbled PIE. “Vision-booster in the Car Wreck Coast zone has stopped working. All sight sensors in that area are now off-line.”

  “Sorry, PIE. No peeking.” A harsh voice crackled through PIE’s speakers, quickly followed by rasping laughter. “And now say goodbye to your electronic ears . . .”

  The line crackled and went silent.

  “Noooo!” PIE’s screen shone neon red. “Audio circuits destroyed. I can no longer see or hear anything around the Car Wreck Coast!”

  “But no one in Trashland knows about you or your sensors.” Furp looked worried. “How did they find out that you were watching them?”

  “I don’t know,” PIE admitted. “Zill, Furp, Danjo – you must investigate at once.”

  “What about me?” Plog looked puzzled. “Aren’t I going with them?”

  “Only as far as Spare Part Canyon,” said PIE gravely. “You have a date to keep – with Countess Kiss!”

  Chapter Two

  SNIFFING OUT TROUBLE

  Waving ’bye to PIE, the Squaddies raced off to the garage where the Slime-mobile – their invisible, supercharged transport – stood ready, its doors open.

  Plog sighed as he bundled his friends aboard and grabbed a golden mask from the costume store. “I wish I was coming with you guys to get whoever broke PIE’s sensor.”

  “We wish we were coming with you in case Lady Lippy’s pulling a fast one,” said Danjo, changing into his golden shorts.

  “PIE knows best, I suppose,” said Furp, swapping his stainless steel pants for a gleaming golden pair with a helmet to match. “You must take a trash-taxi to join us as soon as you’ve heard what the countess has to say.”

  Zill pulled off her PJs and slipped on her golden leotard, ready for action. “We’ll most likely be there and back in time to pick you up,” she said, taking the driver’s seat, “now that Danjo’s fitted this extra-strong turbo booster to the engines.”

  “Test it on quarter-power first,” Danjo advised. “I’m not quite sure just how fast it can go.”

  “Meanwhile, how about a little breakfast as we drive, for extra strength?” Furp headed for his lav-lab in the vehicle’s rear, which was part laboratory, part toilet and all whiffy. “I’ve been experimenting with some old human food I found in the base’s kitchen.” He held up a bowl of orange gunk. “Look! This is human slime called ketchup mixed with stuff called vinegar and mustard—”

  But then Zill hit the turbo button, and the Slime-mobile shot forward at spectacular speed. “Woo-hooo!” she cheered.

  Furp lost his balance and his bowl of runny goo splashed into Danjo’s face.

  “Urgh!” Danjo spluttered, wiping his eyes. “I can’t see.”

  “Probably just as well.” Plog watched the world outside whizz past in a blur and clung to Furp’s lab bench for dear life. “Saves you having to hide your eyes!”

  “We’d better make breakfast brief,” said Furp, grabbing two jars. “Boiled earwig legs, anyone? They’re even tastier with some of this brown dust humans call pepper . . .”

  As he offered them round, Zill took a corner at a hundred miles an hour. He fell over and threw the pepper all over Plog’s long snout.

  The powder prickled and tickled Plog’s nostrils, and then – “AAAA–CHOO!” He started to sneeze with the force of a small typhoon! “Ugh, this stuff is seriously sneeze-worthy. AA-CHOO! KER-CHOOO!” He blew the earwig legs off the plate and straight up Furp’s nose!

  “OWW!” cried Furp, tumbling backwards into the toilet with a SPLOSH – just as Zill hit the brakes and the Slime-mobile hiccupped to a halt.

  “First stop, Fur-boy – Dentists-R-Us, Spare Part Canyon.” Zill turned to her friends – and frowned to see Danjo covered in sauce, Plog blowing his nose with a face-full of pepper and Furp’s feet sticking out of the lav. “Um . . . everything all right back there?”

  “Just great.” Plog sneezed again and nodded. “Thanks for breakfast, Furp.”

  “You’re welcome,” Furp called weakly from the loo.

  “Good luck with the countess, Plog,” said Zill.

  Danjo wiped his face and nodded. “Tell her from us – if she causes you trouble, we’ll turn her to rubble!”

  Plog smiled gratefully. “Just take care when you reach the Nosepick Ocean. Those clowns who messed with PIE’s sensors sounded tough.” He opened the door and stepped out onto a wide street made of rusty metal; it was still so early that no one was in sight. “I’ll join you there as soon as I’ve found out what that message in the sky is all about.”

  But as the Slime-mobile zoomed off in a cloud of invisible smoke, Plog’s heart felt heavy. He had a feeling that there was big trouble ahead – bigger than any the Squad had yet encountered . . .

  “So,” came a soft, breathy voice behind him. “Your friends have left you – just like mine have run out on me.”

  Plog turned to see the ragged, sinister figure of Countess Kiss huddled in the alley beside the huge dentists’ building.

  “My friends have not left me,” Plog retorted. “It’s just that they have a bigger problem than you to deal with right now.”

  The countess shushed him. “Keep your voice down and let’s talk in the alley where no one can see us.”

  “Trying to lead me into a trap, huh?” Plog shook his head. “Forget it – I can smell that breath of yours from over here. You can say whatever you want to say out in the open!”

  “Please . . . I mustn’t be seen.” She limped back into the shadows and looked around anxiously. “They are after me.”

  “Who?” Plog demanded. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll tell you everything.” Countess Kiss took a deep breath. “But first you must promise to give me the Slime Squad’s protection.”

  “Protection?” Plog almost burst out laughing. “You’re a big-time baddie! Why should we protect you?”

  “Oh, don’t call me bad, Ploggy-Woggy,” purred the countess.
“I was just a bored, silly dentist who fell in with the wrong crowd.”

  “Well, if you think you can get close to my crowd, forget it. We know you’re up to something.” Plog pointed to the fading words in the sky. “Was that message meant to distract us from whatever’s draining the Nosepick Ocean?”

  “Nose . . . pick . . .?” Countess Kiss echoed, the colour draining from her lips. “Oh no. It must be them again.” She ran back down the alley, jumped into a cardboard box and sat there quivering.

  “You really are frightened, aren’t you?” Plog murmured. “Why?”

  “I told you – they are after me,” the countess whimpered. “First, they drove all the bad guys out of the Murky Badlands and the Darkest Corner – even my Gruesome Gobs – so that no one could hatch any evil schemes to rival theirs. Now, they are getting ready to attack our world . . .”

  “They?” Plog frowned. “Who are ‘they’?”

  A second later – SPLAT! A bright green lump exploded on the alley wall beside Plog’s head.

  “Get down!” The countess leaped out of her box and pounced on Plog, pulling him to the pavement. He started to gasp at the pong of her breath – then gasped louder as two more sizzling green bursts struck the spot where he’d been standing moments earlier.

  “You saved me from a splatting!” Plog frowned at the countess. “Then . . . you really aren’t trying to trick me?”

  “Not that it matters now.” Countess Kiss burst into tears. “They have found me. They are here!”

  Plog looked past her trembling, oversized lips to see a bulky figure sniffing and snuffling through the alley shadows. It was large, pink and knobbly, and covered in spots. It had two spindly arms, three hairy legs and a mean-looking mouth. Mad eyes stared out from beneath thick, bristly brows. On either side of its bulbous body, a round, dark hole was dribbling green goo.

 

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