Slime Squad vs. the Cyber-Poos

by Steve Cole

  “We know of your plans to ambush us,” rasped the Cyber-Poo perched on the seagull’s back. “Our spy sneaked into your secret base by clinging to the bottom of the Slime-mobile.”

  “I guess poos and bottoms go well together,” said Danjo sourly.

  Plog looked at Zill. “No wonder we smelled something.”

  “The spy magnetized his metal parts so he could not fall off,” explained the proud poo-monster. “Just as I have magnetized my own metal bits so I can cling to the iron ring I have placed around this bird. By transmitting high-pitched stink-o-waves into its brain I can steer it anywhere.”

  “That’s, like, totally interesting.” Plog pretended to yawn. “Why not steer it somewhere else, before you bore us all to death?”

  “I can’t believe we let one of those things get inside our base.” Zill groaned. “We left poor PIE defenceless!”

  The seagull lowered its head and the Cyber-Poo laughed nastily. “Hand over the Big Booster now and perhaps we shall spare him.”

  Plog turned helplessly to the Slime-Mobile. “Furp!” he called. “You’d better do as the big poo says.”

  “What?” Furp’s muffled voice carried from the Slime-mobile. “Oh, dear, dear, dear. Yes, I suppose I must give our smelly friend what he desires . . .” The chemistry genius came outside. In his hands he clutched a transparent cube, shining in the sunlight.

  “Bring it to us,” grated the Cyber-Poo.

  Using his slime-coated foot-soles to stick to the rubble, Furp swiftly scaled the slope. He paused beside Plog, Danjo and Zill. Plog looked at him sadly, and Furp shrugged. Rather than climb the rest of the way, he tossed the cube to the evil number two, who caught it in both hands.

  “Thank you.” He hissed with smelly satisfaction and passed the object to a fellow poo, who popped it into a ragged cardboard box for protection. “Very soon now, our master’s plans will be complete. But first . . .” He turned to his poopy posse. “ELIMINATE THE SLIME SQUAD!”

  A hail of brown, squidgy missiles shot from a dozen stinky fingers.

  “Zill, Furp – down!” yelled Plog, diving with Danjo behind the slime-net full of concrete.

  “Um, actually, that might not be such a good idea,” Furp twittered, as one of Zill’s slimy strands sizzled and sagged under the weight of so much rubble. “I rather think the Cyber-Poos are firing at the net . . .”

  Zill gasped as she realized what their enemies were up to. “They’re going to crush us with our own booby-trap!”

  “Quickly – run!” Plog heaved Danjo after him, stumbling down the steep concrete hillside as it started to shake. “We must reach the Slime-mobile before we’re buried alive!”

  Furp jumped past them, dodging deadly poo-splats as he went. Zill spat out another slime line and swung down the hillside.

  Ka-ka-KA-KA-KROOOOOM! The slime net gave way behind them, and massive chunks of rock and rubble began bouncing down the hill after the four desperate superheroes.

  “Keep going!” Plog shouted, clinging onto Danjo for dear life as they hurled themselves inside the Slime-mobile and slammed into the far wall. The whole vehicle rocked violently. Furp jumped in after them and landed straight in the lav-lab’s toilet while Zill swung herself into the driver’s seat and hit the engines.

  The roar of falling rubble was building to a grating, stone-crunching screech.

  “Get us out of here, Zill!” Plog shouted.

  “On the case, Fur-boy.” Zill stamped on the accelerator and the Slime-mobile sped away just as the first chunks of concrete hammered down around them. A few seconds later and the bottom of the hill was buried under stacks of stone.

  “Thank goodness for that,” said Furp, only his feet visible, sticking out of the toilet. “We made it.”

  “Don’t speak too soon.” Zill was looking grimly in the rear-view mirror. “That Cyber-Poo and his gull are coming after us!”

  Plog saw that she was right – a menacing white-and-brown shape was whooshing out of the sky towards them. With a deep, laughing cry the zombie seagull drew closer. The Cyber-Poo astride it fired a volley of brown bombs down at the Slime-mobile.

  “These poos are bad news,” said Danjo. “Can we outrun them?”

  The Slime-mobile shook with the force of a ploppy explosion. “I guess not,” Plog muttered.

  “We have one chance,” said Furp, struggling out of the lav-lab’s lavvy. “The Cyber-Poo said he was controlling the seagull with high-pitched stink-o-waves.” He grabbed a screwdriver from his pants, pulled off his crash helmet and started jabbing at the radar dish that crowned it. “If I can use this to transmit stink-o-waves, I might be able to jam the poo’s commands . . .”

  Outside, the seagull swooped low overhead, and Zill swung the Slime-mobile from side to side as the Cyber-Poo launched more messy missiles. “You said ‘might’,” she yelled. “Aren’t you sure?”

  “Not remotely,” Furp admitted. Then he rounded on Plog. “Quickly, take off your boots!”

  Plog frowned down at the water-filled cauldrons he wore on his tootsies. “But you know what will happen – out of liquid and into fresh air, my feet start oozing horrible slime.”

  “Precisely, my dear Plog.” The Slime-mobile rocked again as a muck missile dented the roof, and Furp almost dropped his screwdriver. “Horrible and very, very smelly slime. If I dip my helmet in that toxic goo, it should put real stink into my stink-o-waves!”

  Plog was already pulling his boots off. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst – and his feet really were the worst. Within seconds, bright yellow, gruesome goo began to drip from his toes.

  “Ugh!” Danjo put his free pincer to his nose. “This is one time when being stuck to you really stinks!”

  “Don’t knock it,” said Furp. “We know Plog’s slime has a hundred-and-one household uses.” He dipped his helmet in the evil-smelling foot sauce. “Let’s just hope it has a hundred-and-two!”

  Plog stared at the silent helmet. “Nothing’s happening,” he cried.

  Another muck-missile rocketed into its target. Zill struggled with the steering wheel as the Slime-mobile was almost blown off the road. “Quickly!” she shouted. “We can’t take much more of this . . .”

  But suddenly the sticky radar dish started spinning round, super-fast. Furp beamed. “I . . . I think it’s starting to work!” As the seagull swooped closer to deliver another deadly bombardment, he jammed the screwdriver into the helmet’s workings. A warbling whine went up . . .

  And the seagull suddenly squawked furiously and veered away. The Cyber-Poo gave an electronic gurgle as the bird broke for freedom, soaring higher and higher into the air. “Out of control,” he yelled, his voice growing fainter. “All units, assistance required. Help . . . Help . . .!”

  “It worked!” Zill cheered.

  Plog felt dizzy with relief as he pulled on his metal boots again, drowning his slime in the warm water inside. “Furp, you’re a genius.” “True!” Furp switched off his helmet. “But I couldn’t have done it without your feet.” “Unfortunately!” Danjo wiped whiffy foot slime from his face. “But what about PIE? We left him alone with a Cyber-Poo in the base – and we’ve given those stink-heads his Big Booster.”

  “Actually, we haven’t.” Furp reached into the lav-lab’s lav with a knowing smile . . . and pulled out a glass box with wires inside. “Ta-daaa!”

  “The Big Booster – it’s still here!” Zill frowned. “Then . . . what did you give the Cyber-Poos?”

  “A chunk of Danjo’s slime ice!” Furp explained. “I had a big cube in the freezer. It’s one of the ingredients in the serum I’m making to un-stick him and Plog.”

  “Never mind us,” said Danjo. “It’s PIE I’m worried about. If those things have hurt him, the Big Booster won’t matter in any case.”

  Plog nodded miserably. “Without PIE, the Slime Squad is finished – and the way will be clear for evil monsters to take over our world!”

  Chapter Six

  WHERE’S
THE LAIR?

  Zill pressed the pedal to the metal, speeding all the way back to the base. But as the Slime-Mobile neared the human house that hid their HQ, she brought it screeching to a stop. “Oh, no . . .”

  Plog charged forward with Danjo and Furp to see what Zill was staring at through the windscreen. Butterflies filled his stomach as he saw the cellar window was smashed to pieces – with a large, computer-sized hole in the pane.

  “I . . . I don’t believe it.” Furp flung open the Slime-Mobile doors and hopped outside, right up onto the windowsill. “The office is empty. You know what this means, don’t you?” He swung round to face his friends, fear in his froggy eyes. “Cyber-Poos have kidnapped the All-Seeing PIE!”

  Plog, Danjo and Zill joined Furp outside. The entire area was splashed with bird droppings.

  “The Cyber-Poos must’ve ridden here on their seagulls,” Danjo noted. “Loads of them by the look of things.”

  “Once they knew where PIE was, they attacked in force,” Zill agreed.

  Plog nodded. “But how did they get him outside?”

  Furp picked up a scrap of red rubber caught on one of the jagged bits of glass left in the window frame, then bounced down to rejoin the Squad. “I believe this was once a balloon.” He licked the inside with his long tongue and pulled a face. “A helium balloon, unless I’m very much mistaken – a balloon that floats. I bet the poos tied lots of balloons to PIE to lift him into the air and then used their pet seagulls to tow him away!”

  Plog brightened. “Then the Cyber-Poos haven’t killed PIE – they’ve taken him prisoner. And that means we can break him out!”

  “But how?” Zill gestured around. “They could have taken him anywhere – there are no tracks to follow.”

  “No tracks in the ground, anyway,” said Furp, a sly gleam in his eye. “But we know that the Cyber-Poos control their seagulls with stink-o-waves. And my helmet is now tuned into those smelly signals.” He pulled his screwdriver from his pants and started to tinker. “With a tweak or two, I’m sure I can track them to their source – the lair of the Cyber-Poos.”

  Plog shivered. “How scary is that?” “To stand a chance of success, we must all be at the peak of our powers.” Furp hopped back inside the lav-lab and set down his helmet on the toilet. “So, while my radar dish pinpoints the source of the stink-o-waves, let’s see if I can un-stick you and Danjo.” He picked up a beaker of bright orange liquid. “I’m certain that this mixture of Zill’s spittle and Danjo’s pincer-slush will free you both from my ‘stick-you’ slime.” He paused. “Well, fairly certain . . . ish.” He paused again. “Look, it might work without exploding – shall we give it a try?”

  Danjo and Plog looked at each other and sighed. Then they nodded.

  “Here goes nothing!” Furp poured the orange goo onto his friends’ gummed-up hands, and the slimy substance began to steam and sizzle. “Now, quickly. Pull, the pair of you!”

  Plog and Danjo strained to free themselves. The sticky gunk stretched like extra-gooey cheese on a slimy pizza. “It’s working,” Plog gasped, staggering backwards while Danjo heaved in the other direction. “The glue’s weakening . . . it’s not so sticky . . .”

  But then suddenly – “Oooof!” Plog and Danjo were catapulted back into each other and fell sprawling to the dirty floor.

  “Oh.” Furp frowned. “It seems my new goo does make the ‘stick-you’ slime a little less sticky . . . But not for very long.”

  Zill couldn’t help but smile. “I think they noticed!”

  But suddenly the radar dish on Furp’s helmet started to spin and smoke. A foul pong filled the Slime-mobile.

  “Ugh!” Danjo choked. “That whiff’s almost as bad as Plog’s feet!”

  “It means my ‘stink-o-wave picker-upper’ is working!” Furp bounced around in mad excitement, dragging wires and cables from out of an old smelly-vision set and connecting them to the helmet. A grainy image appeared on the screen – piles and piles of computer parts and circuit boards stretching into the distance. “The signals are coming from somewhere underneath that lot.”

  “Silicon Ditch!” Zill exclaimed. “Not very far from Old Toilet Trench.”

  “PIE told us that poos had gone missing from that area,” Plog recalled.

  “And I bet the sewers at Old Toilet Trench run under Silicon Ditch too,” said Danjo. “That’s why the plop-heads jumped down the toilet when they pushed off before.”

  “It’s time we were pushing off ourselves.” Plog clenched his fists and looked around at his friends. “We’ve got a super-computer to save!”

  As Zill drove the Slime-mobile closer to Silicon Ditch, the radar dish spun faster and faster. Furp hopped between the screen and the crash-helmet, scribbling down stink-o-wave calculations.

  “I’ve managed to pinpoint the exact location of the Cyber-Poos’ base,” he announced at last, placing the helmet back on his head. “It’s very close by.”

  “You’d better stop the Slime-mobile, Zill,” Plog called. “We’ll investigate on foot.”

  “Good.” Zill braked, jumped up and opened the doors. “I’ve had quite enough of driving for one day.”

  Plog stared out onto a high-tech landscape of cracked circuit boards, broken fuses and squashed silicon chips. There were no monsters in sight, no seagulls and certainly no poos. Beyond Silicon Ditch he could see the vast stretch of rusting human gadgets that formed the Heavy Metal Hills. A huge crane-like vehicle stood at the border between the two territories, dangling a gigantic metal disc.

  “What’s that thing?” Plog asked Furp. “The Cyber-Poos’ sentry?”

  “No. It’s just an old human machine,” Furp explained. “That steel disc is actually a massive electromagnet – a magnet that works off electricity. Whenever human giants wanted to shift a pile of metal scrap they simply switched on the magnet to pick up the stuff and switched the magnet off again when they were ready to drop it. As a matter of fact, monster landscape experts believe that’s how the Heavy Metal Hills were formed . . .”

  Zill yawned. “I’m like an electromagnet – I just switched off too.”

  “Yeah,” Danjo added, “thanks for the geography lesson, Furp, but we’ve got bigger fish to fry with our silicon chips. There must be a PIE-sized secret entrance somewhere, leading to the underground base.”

  “Perhaps the Poos use the electromagnet to open a hidden metal hatch or something,” Furp suggested.

  “But how will we find a way in?” Plog wondered. He jumped down, pulling Danjo after him.

  CRACK! went the ground beneath them.

  “Uh-oh . . .” Danjo swapped a helpless look with Plog. “Whoaaaaaaa!”

  With a snapping of circuit boards, the ground gave way beneath Plog and Danjo’s feet and they fell through empty space into deep, cold blackness . . .

  Chapter Seven

  TO SMELL AND BACK

  “Arrrrrrrrgh!”

  Zill and Furp heard Plog and Danjo cry out as they fell through the ground – and then land heavily with a THUMP!

  “Great jumping slimeballs!” Furp gasped. “I do believe they’ve found a way in.” He stared down at what seemed to be a length of plastic drainpipe disappearing down into the darkness. “Hmm, most likely an air-vent. Even Cyber-Poos can’t breathe their own smell all day.”

  “We’ve got to get down there and see if they’re all right,” said Zill. She spat out a slime-line, bit through it, slammed one end in the Slime-Mobile’s doors and quickly climbed down the sticky strand into the darkness. Furp followed, using his slimy hands and feet to crawl down the drainpipe like a froggy spider.

  Zill crept out cautiously into a cold concrete cavern – part of the system of sewer pipes built beneath Trashland. It stank of old poos, and was lit with a spooky brown glow. Plog and Danjo were a short distance away, standing at a T-junction in the pipe work, peering into the gloom. “Hey!” she hissed. “Are you two all right?”

  “We’re great!” Danjo ran back to her – and for once, P
log wasn’t pulled along behind. “Furp’s new goo must’ve weakened the ‘stick you’ slime – and the fall finally bumped us free!”

  “Thank goodness,” said Furp, hopping out of the pipe. “If we’re going to fight an entire lair full of savage Cyber-Poos, we’ll need every advantage we can get.”

  Plog suddenly stiffened. “I think there’s something else down here,” he said hoarsely. “Listen!”

  Sure enough, a spooky scraping sound was cutting through the cold air – ker-SCRARPP! Ker-SCRARRRRRP!

  “It’s the same noise I heard floating up from beneath Old Toilet Trench,” Zill realised.

  “Get back!” Plog turned and shooed his friends back into the shadows. “Whatever it is, it’s coming this way!”

  The Slime Squad held their breaths as the raggedy scraping sound got louder and a strange shadow fell across the far wall of the tunnel. Plog almost gasped out loud as a weird, menacing monstrosity came into sight.

  It was a thing of muck and metal, shaped like an enormous sideways ‘V’ – although its hard steel lines were softened with splats of dung. Plog saw that it had the remains of a keyboard on its lower half and a broken screen on its top half – and was dragging itself forward on odd mechanical attachments. Poo-Poo Prime and four Cyber-Poo bodyguards squelched along just behind it.

  Zill stared in shock as the huge, metal thing crept past. “It’s . . . like a portable PIE!”

  “Looks more like a poo-poo pie to me,” Danjo muttered. “It’s dented, it’s dirty . . . But it’s got to be the master of these Cyber-Poos, right?”