Curse of the Evil Custard

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Curse of the Evil Custard Page 4

by Alan MacDonald


  DEADLY DEATH TRAPS

  Death traps – don’t you just hate them? You would think that evil villains had better things to do than dream up ingenious ways of killing their enemies. Sadly, this is how they get their kicks. Deadly Death Traps come in many forms, but here are a few you should avoid:

  1. THE MOUSETRAP

  2. THE DEADLY DELIVERY

  3. THE SLIDING FLOOR

  4. THE FIENDISH FALSE DOOR

  If you do find yourself caught in a deadly death trap, try to keep calm and escape by using your superpowers. If you possess titanic strength or laser-beam eyes, you should be fine. If you’re super-ticklish, you may be in a spot of trouble.

  Finally remember the golden rule: if it looks like a trap and smells like a trap, it probably is a trap.

  If Stan had read this good advice, he might not have marched forwards, setting off the alarm.

  Suddenly a brick wall parted like a pair of curtains. Dr Sinister swivelled round, seated in his Director of Doom chair. Beside him stood the faithful Otto.

  ‘Welcome to my humble laboratory,’ said Dr Sinister. ‘I must say I’m disappointed. I was hoping for more than a few super-halfwits.’

  ‘We are the Invincibles and we’re here to stop you,’ said Minnie defiantly.

  ‘How very original,’ sneered Dr Sinister. ‘We met before, didn’t we? I should have guessed right away there was something wrong with your school. But in the end it’s all worked out rather well. What better way to test my invention than on a bunch of super-brats?’

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ said Stan.

  ‘Oh, but I’m evil, so I would!’ smirked Dr Sinister. ‘Don’t you remember your old friend?’

  Tank emerged from the shadows. He seemed to have grown bigger and blobbier since the last time they’d seen him.

  ‘Tank was lucky. He was the first to be transformed by Evil Custard,’ said Dr Sinister. ‘The effect of one bowl is impressive, don’t you think? But what would happen if you dipped some kiddies in a whole vat of custard, hmm? Shall we find out?’

  Dr Sinister pulled a lever. A cable ran out and the net suddenly lurched towards the vat of custard.

  ‘AAAAARGHHHHHH!’

  The prisoners inside swayed just above the ghastly gloop.

  ‘STOP! Let them go!’ cried Stan.

  ‘Or else you’ll tell your mummy?’ sneered Dr Sinister.

  ‘Or else this,’ said Miles, pulling something from his pocket. Stan and Minnie followed his lead.

  Dr Sinister had had enough of playing games. He pointed a finger.

  ‘Obliterate them, Tank!’ he ordered.

  ‘Uhh?’

  ‘GET THEM, YOU BRAINLESS BLOB!’

  Tank obeyed and lumbered forward, hurling bolts of custard. One direct hit would be enough ...

  Minnie squirted her frisbee clean and tucked it back in her belt.

  ‘I think that went pretty well,’ she said. ‘Now to rescue the others.’

  But they had forgotten Dr Sinister.

  ‘You fools!’ he cried. ‘Evil Custard cannot be stopped!’

  He yanked the lever and the net fell through the air, hitting the custard with a sickening splash. Ripples spread out across the pool and bubbles began to rise to the surface.

  ‘That can’t be good,’ said Stan.

  Out of the evil gloop rose a blobby head, followed by another and another – all with the faces of their school friends.

  ‘DESTROY THEM!’ shrieked Dr Sinister, waving his tiny fists.

  The Invincibles backed away.

  ‘Um ... what do we do now?’ asked Miles.

  ‘There’s only one thing we can do,’ said Stan. ‘RUN!’

  They raced for the door as the first of the custardy creatures crawled dripping from the tank. Stan stumbled into the next room. Ahead he could see the door to the yard where Pudding was waiting. The Wonderdog barked and ran forward to meet them.

  ‘Hurry up! They’re coming!’ panted Miles.

  But Stan slowed down and stopped.

  ‘What are you doing? Come on!’ urged Miles.

  Stan shook his head. ‘All our friends are back there,’ he said. ‘We can’t just run off and leave them!’

  Minnie nodded. ‘Stan’s right. Dr Sinister has to be stopped before he makes an army of Evil Blob Things.’

  ‘Like those, you mean?’ Miles pointed a finger. They turned to see the giant Evil Blob Things advancing like ranks of yellow zombies. Stan raised his water pistol and took aim.

  ‘Wait till they’re close. On my signal,’ he whispered.

  ‘… NOW!’

  Stan rolled his eyes. Terrific! They’d run out of water! This is it, then, he thought, curtain time. What a way to go, slimed by your own school friends with foul-smelling custard!

  Pudding ran to hide behind Minnie, leaving a trail of wet paw prints. Wait a minute … wet paw prints?

  Stan looked up and for the first time he noticed the familiar drumming sound on the roof. Of course!

  ‘OUTSIDE! QUICKLY!’ he yelled.

  They turned and raced outside. The Evil Blob Things wobbled slowly after them into the daylight. As the first raindrops fell on their heads, the creatures looked up and realised their mistake.

  Soon there was nothing left of them but a dozen dazed children, sitting in puddles of runny gloop.

  ‘Thank goodness for British weather,’ said Miles. ‘I was worried for a moment there.’

  But there wasn’t time to draw breath – there was still Dr Sinister to deal with. They found the potty scientist in his laboratory.

  ‘Stop right there!’ cried Stan.

  ‘YOU!’ gasped Dr Sinister. ‘But that’s not possible!’

  Miles shook his head. ‘You should know if you mix water and custard you get a runny mess. It’s not rocket science.’

  Dr Sinister ground his teeth. ‘You will pay for this,’ he snarled, reaching for the lever.

  ‘Get him!’ cried Stan.

  Minnie took aim. The frisbee hummed through the air and struck the crazed genius on the side of the head.

  Dr Sinister staggered back, losing his balance ...

  Two days later the school inspectors stood in Miss Marbles’ office, ready to deliver their final report. For some reason they had asked Stan and his friends to be present. Miss Marbles sat stiffly in her chair as if in the dentist’s waiting room. Even Pudding stopped wagging his tail and rested his head on his paws.

  ‘Well, I must say this week has been a new experience,’ said Miss Miller. ‘It’s the first time I’ve spent a morning locked in a freezer. Usually we are greeted with a cup of tea.’

  Miss Marbles groaned quietly.

  ‘In any case, our inspection is complete, so here is our report,’ said Mr Long, placing a black file on Miss Marbles’ desk. The head teacher took a deep breath and put on her reading glasses. The room fell silent. Stan could tell from the head’s grim expression that it wasn’t good news.

  Miss Marbles closed the file with a heavy sigh and pushed it away. Stan and Minnie exchanged worried looks. What now? If the school had failed the inspection, would Mighty High be closed down altogether, as Miss Marbles had feared? If that happened, they’d all be sent back to their old schools. The Invincibles would be broken up and they might never see each other again. Worst of all, none of them would get the chance to pass their final exams and become real superheroes.

  Miss Miller picked up the file from the desk. ‘However,’ she said. ‘It’s clear to us that Mighty High is not an ordinary school teaching ordinary children. It could be argued that it should be judged by different standards. Take Stan and his friends, for instance ...’ She turned to them. ‘If it wasn’t for you, Dr Sinister’s plan might have succeeded, and who knows what else could have happened? Your courage and quick thinking are a credit to this school and your teachers.’

  Stan didn’t know what to say. His ears had turned pink, though for once it was nothing to do with danger.

  ‘So taking this
into account, we have decided not to submit our report,’ said Miss Miller.

  Stan watched in astonishment as she tore the pages into pieces and dropped them in the bin.

  Miss Marbles stood up. ‘But what will happen to the school?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing at all,’ replied Miss Miller. ‘You can carry on training children to be whatever they want to be.’

  ‘Superheroes,’ answered Minnie.

  Miss Miller smiled. ‘I wouldn’t know anything about that, of course,’ she said, appearing to wink at them.

  ‘Of course not,’ said Miss Marbles. ‘Well, I can’t begin to thank you!’

  And that seemed to be that. The inspectors shook everyone by the hand, and walked out, leaving them in peace.

  As soon as they’d gone, Miss Marbles sank back into her chair. ‘Thank heavens!’ she groaned. ‘I’d rather eat Mrs Sponge’s carrot trifle than go through that again.’

  She settled her glasses on her nose. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘It looks like once again I have you three to thank for saving the school.’

  ‘Us four,’ corrected Minnie. ‘Pudding helped too.’

  ‘Of course; my apologies, Pudding,’ laughed Miss Marbles.

  They turned to go, but Stan hung back. ‘Just one last thing,’ he said. ‘What about Dr Sinister? Is he going to prison?’

  Miss Marbles shook her head. ‘That’s the funny thing,’ she said. ‘Apparently if an evil person has too much Evil Custard, it produces the opposite effect.’

  ‘You mean it makes him less evil?’ said Miles.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Miss Marbles. ‘In fact, he’s really quite sweet now. I’m told he’s abandoned science and taken up a new job.’

  Also by Alan MacDonald

  The Superhero School series:

  The Revenge of the Green Meanie

  Alien Attack!

  The History of Warts series:

  Custardly Wart: Pirate (third class)

  Ditherus Wart: (accidental) Gladiator

  Honesty Wart: Witch Hunter!

  Sir Bigwart: Knight of the Wonky Table

  Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Oxford, New York, New Delhi and Sydney

  First published in Great Britain in August 2015 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP

  This electronic edition published in 2015 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  www.bloomsbury.com

  Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  Text copyright © Alan MacDonald 2015

  Illustrations copyright © Nigel Baines 2015

  The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted

  All rights reserved

  You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978 1 4088 2525 9

  ePub ISBN: 978 1 4088 2532 7

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