Krazy Kow Saves the World - Well, Almost

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Krazy Kow Saves the World - Well, Almost Page 4

by Jeremy Strong


  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re really clever.’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Oh come on, you are. Nobody else thought of a cartoon cow.’

  I smiled. It was nice of Cat to say all this, but I was beginning to feel embarrassed.

  ‘I can help you with it.’

  ‘Yeah?’ I wasn’t too sure about this. My street cred was already pretty low. In the distance I could see Rebecca, watching. She was laughing at us.

  ‘We could work on it together.’

  ‘Er, I don’t need much help at the moment, thanks.’

  ‘I don’t mind. I could just hang around,’ suggested Cat. ‘In case you need anything.’ She looked at me and her eyes reminded me of an eager puppy. I didn’t want an eager puppy.

  ‘I don’t think I will be needing anything.’

  The smile quickly faded and Cat chewed at her lower lip. I thought she was going to say more, but she just shoved her hands into her pockets, shrugged and walked off. Strange girl. I almost called out to her. I wanted to know if she knew what pretentious meant.

  Soon after this I was called in to see Mrs Drew. She had some good news and some bad news.

  ‘Jamie, you mustn’t let anyone else know yet, but the organizers have been so impressed by some of the ideas sent in by schools that some of the judges are going to make special visits to see the work being done.’

  ‘You mean they might come to our school?’

  Mrs Drew nodded and leaned forward, almost whispering, ‘They are going to come to our school. I’ve been told to expect two of them in a week’s time.’

  My eyes were boggling. ‘Which ones?’ I asked.

  ‘Kooky Savage and Dwight Trellis.’

  ‘The film star…?’ I began.

  ‘… and the United winger. Isn’t that fantastic?’

  I couldn’t believe it. The thought of having Kooky Savage in my own school – a real film star. Somebody who worked in real films with real directors. Somebody who might one day STAR IN A FILM BEING MADE BY ME!

  Just as I was getting nicely carried away with my little dream, Mrs Drew brought me back to Earth with a bang. It turned out that she wanted to make a film of Krazy Kow all right, but not a cartoon.

  ‘We don’t have the facilities, Jamie. You need special cameras for that.’

  ‘Can’t we get them?’

  ‘I’m sorry. We don’t have the time or the money. But I do think we can make a really good film about Krazy Kow. I’ve got hold of a cow costume.’

  What?! My brilliant cartoon character was being turned into a pantomime cow!

  ‘It’s the best we can do. Wait until you see it. I’ve set up the video camera in the hall and gathered some of the children together so that we can try it out.’

  I sighed heavily. ‘Can I at least do the filming?’

  ‘I don’t see why not. I thought your brother and Tom Hardy could be the front and back of the cow.’

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The thought of two ace footballers inside a cow costume just seemed so weird – and it would serve them right!

  We went off to the hall and there in a corner lay three large, black and white crumpled heaps – the front, back and head bits of a cow. The rest of the cast were gathered round them.

  ‘We’re going to film the first episode,’ began Mrs Drew. ‘This is where Krazy Kow discovers a nuclear reactor on fire. Matt and Tom, you get in the cow. Carl, help them hook together, will you? Tom, your udder’s not on straight. Pull it up between your knees. That’s better. Matt, can you stop twisting round?’

  ‘Tom poked me,’ said Matt, his voice muffled by the big cow head he was wearing.

  ‘Didn’t.’

  ‘Did.’ The front half of the cow swung round and aimed a kick at the back half.

  ‘Ow!’ The back section launched itself at the front, wrestling it to the ground, where the two halves rolled about thumping each other. The sound of laughter came from inside. Mrs Drew puffed over to the wriggling cow. ‘Boys, please!’ Krazy Kow’s tail twitched and Tom poked his head out of a gap in the middle where the costume joined up. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, trying to appear serious. I knew he was deliberately playing up. He was trying to sabotage my film.

  ‘That’s all right, Tom. Pick yourselves up, both of you, and get yourselves sorted.’ Mrs Drew heaved another sigh. ‘Now, is everyone set?’

  ‘Camera’s running,’ called out, and focused on Krazy Kow. Her head suddenly twisted round.

  ‘Will you stop poking? Ow!’ Now the front half of Krazy Kow suddenly leaped in the air and yanked off her own head. Matt was trying to look cross, but there was a big grin hidden beneath his frown.

  ‘Now what?’ demanded Mrs Drew.

  ‘Tom pinched my bum!’

  ‘Don’t be daft, I’ve got a bum of my own.’

  Everyone in the hall fell about. ‘Anyhow,’ Tom went on, ‘you could have pinched your own…’

  ‘Sssssh! Please! Do be quiet!’ cried Mrs Drew. ‘Tom, Matthew, will you behave? We have filming to do. Jamie, are you ready?’

  ‘I’ve been ready for years.’

  ‘There’s no need for sarcasm, thank you.’ Mrs Drew took a deep breath. ‘OK, everyone, ready, action!’

  Krazy Kow began to clump across the hall. ‘A nuclear fire in Australia!’ bellowed Matt from inside the Cow’s head. ‘Oh no! I must fly into action. Argh! Stop it! Ow!’

  The front half of Krazy Kow began jumping up and down and then all of a sudden took off across the hall. The back half couldn’t keep up, tripped and fell to the floor, only to be dragged along behind the front as it raced away.

  Tom was spun on to his back and his front and his back again, until his legs and tail and great pink udder were waving about like some gigantic rubber glove. Round and round went Matt, while Tom polished the hall floor, swishing about in great swinging arcs, until at last the cow ripped in half. The back end went spinning across the hall floor and crashed into the wall. Tom poked out his head.

  ‘Have you quite finished?’

  ‘You started it,’ snapped Matt.

  ‘That’s enough!’ cried Mrs Drew. ‘Both of you go back to your classroom.’ She watched, hands on hips, as the two boys slunk away, smirking at each other.

  Mrs Drew put another two children in the cow and we started again. After that the filming went smoothly, but – and it was a very big BUT – it wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t anything like what I had imagined in my head. It wasn’t even anything like the stories I had written down. A pantomime cow simply was not Krazy Kow. My dreams were crumbling to bits all around me.

  After school I was heading for home when Cat caught up with me. She fell in alongside, panting from running.

  ‘Wasn’t much good, was it?’

  I grunted.

  ‘They’re useless, that lot. They haven’t got any imagination. They can’t see what you and I can see.’

  I grunted again. So, Cat thought she knew what was going on inside my head, did she? I had this sudden mad picture in my head of Krazy Kow leaping through the air, her Swiss army udder firing off in every direction. I mean, nobody’s head is like that, except mine!

  ‘Why don’t you make your own film?’ Cat suggested. ‘Forget about the school film. Make your own cartoon, the way you want it to be.’

  I kept on walking. This was a surprisingly good suggestion from Cat.

  ‘Well?’ She was half running beside me, bouncing up and down, trying to keep up.

  ‘It’s not that easy.’

  ‘I could help you. We could do it together.’ This was the second time Cat had offered to help.

  She was watching me earnestly, but that puppy-dog look had gone. She meant business. I stopped.

  ‘OΚ. You can help, but I’m in charge and you do what I say.’

  Cat’s face cracked into a massive smile. ‘Brilliant!’ She suddenly flung both arms round me and gave me a huge hug. ‘Gerroff!’ I yelled.

  7 Too
Many Strawberries

  Dad’s got a video camera he uses for filming Big Bro when he’s playing football. Dad reckons it’s good for training. They sit and watch it for hours, replaying special moves. I reckoned I could make my film with Dad’s camera. I don’t think he’s used it for weeks and although he’s the only one allowed to handle it I was sure I could get away with it, so I grabbed the thing.

  Once I was up in my bedroom I examined the camera because I wanted to make sure I knew how it worked. I pointed it out of the window and peered through, finger on the button. And that was when I saw Gemma, with Justin.

  They were kissing!

  There they were, in the little alley that runs along the back of our garden, where they thought nobody would spot them. I could only see their heads, but it was definitely Gemma and Justin. It was as if their lips had been superglued together. I kept the button pressed. It just seemed the thing to do. It was like I was a great news photographer, right on the spot, just as the big news was breaking.

  HEADLINE FLASH – GEMMA SNOBS JUSTIN!

  After they’d gone I played the tape back.

  Something about it didn’t seem right, and then I realized what it was: there was no soundtrack. So I switched on the microphone and sat there making loads of really shlurpy shloppy kissy-kissy noises. It sounded disgusting and I must admit it gave me a bit of a laugh, but I had more important things to think about.

  I wanted to start filming the Krazy Kow story starting with the exploding strawberries. The question that was bothering me was – how do you make strawberries explode? And how do you film it at the same time? I spent the entire weekend thinking about it. I thought my brain would burst, it was so full of cows and strawberries and cameras. But by the time I went to bed on Sunday night I reckoned I had worked out what to do.

  I spoke to Cat about it the next day and told her we were going to film the episode with the exploding strawberries.

  ‘Where are you going to get exploding strawberries from?’

  ‘The exploding strawberry shop,’ I said.

  ‘No, really, how will you do it?’ She laughed and pushed me.

  I smiled and tapped my nose. Cat scowled furiously.

  ‘Tell me!’

  ‘Come to my house after school tomorrow. Matt will be out training and Gemma goes to Air Cadets so there won’t be anyone else around for a while. We can get the filming done then.’

  ‘But I still don’t see how…’

  ‘Just come tomorrow.’

  I hurried off. I had so much to sort out. This filming business was taking over my life. I already had a stupendous idea for the exploding strawberries, but there were other things I needed too, like Krazy Kow herself.

  Down in the toddlers’ classrooms they have loads of stuffed toys, and I had a vague memory that one of them was a black and white cow. So I snuck down there, only to run straight into one of the dinner ladies, Mrs Bevinson.

  It’s pretty easy to run into Mrs Bevinson because she’s about three miles wide and made of old mattresses. Well, that’s what she looks like, at any rate. Mrs Bevinson always walks very slowly, like a robot with a battery that’s running down, her tiny, rolling-pin arms swinging at her sides. She’s so wide she fills the school corridors like some minesweeper. I couldn’t help but run straight into her.

  ‘Oi! I know you!’ she thundered, as I struggled to free myself from her Venus flytrap bosom. ‘What do you think you’re up to?’

  My brain was on holiday somewhere. What I really needed at this moment was for Krazy Kow herself to appear in the corridor and zap Mrs Bevinson with her flame-thrower. Barbecued dinner lady. Stay calm, I told myself. Do not flinch at the Jaws of Death. Be Hercules. Be Indiana Jones. Be Mr Cool.

  I smiled at Mrs Bevinson. ‘I lost my jacket yesterday. One of the teachers said she thought she saw it hanging on a peg in the cloakroom down here.’

  Mrs Bevinson took a step back and squinted at me with one eye. ‘YOU’RE JUST TRYING IT ON!’ she bellowed. (This is Mrs Bevinson’s favourite phrase. Whatever anyone says to her she answers: ‘You’re just trying it on!’)

  I stayed quiet and kept my eyes on hers. She grunted and moved to one side, as far as she was able. I tunnelled past her and disappeared into the cloakroom while she carried on out to the playground, heaving like an overloaded car ferry.

  As soon as she was out of sight I slipped into the toddlers’ classroom and dived in among the soft toys. It took only a few moments to find the little cow. I stuffed it in my bag and hurried off. (I was going to take it back later. That was my plan.)

  When Cat arrived at the house she was beaming with excitement. ‘Is this where you live?’ she asked. Since I’d just answered the front door this struck me as a pretty weird question.

  ‘We’re going to film in the kitchen,’ I told her, and she followed me through to the back of the house. I had already cleared the kitchen table and set up the video camera on a tripod at one end.

  ‘Ignore the washing hanging up. It’s Big Bro’s football kit,’ I told Gat, and added bitterly: ‘Must have him looking his best for the county trial.’

  Cat wrinkled her nose at the washing. ‘You’re not into football much, are you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  She smiled. ‘Nor me. I hate it. What else do you hate? I hate that too.’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Sorry, I’m rabbiting. What are we going to do?’

  I’d got hold of all the strawberries from the fridge and piled them on a paper plate. Underneath the plate was my hydro-helicopter. Connected to the hydro-copter was one of those air pumps operated by foot.

  You pump really hard and a huge amount of pressure is stored up in the launch pad. When the pressure gets too much it is suddenly released – PHWOOOSH! – and the helicopter goes zooming up in the air with its rotors whizzing at a million miles an hour.

  I stuck Krazy Kow on the table and bent her legs so that it looked as if she might be firing a rocket at the strawberries. ‘I’m going to film. You pump as hard as you can. When it takes off the hydro-copter should scatter the strawberries, like they’ve just exploded. I’ve got to keep the camera focused on them, without showing the ‘copter underneath.’

  ‘Fantastic!’ said Cat, clinging on to my arm. ‘You’re so clever!’

  I pulled my arm from her grasp. ‘Just do the pumping,’ I muttered, and stepped behind the camera. I pressed Record and began a voice-over for Krazy Kow.

  ‘Oh no, these strawberries have been genetically modified to explode. I must dispose of them at once. I shall just use my…’

  BAMMMM!!!

  The launcher was triggered and the ‘copter burst upwards. Strawberries went everywhere. One hit the camera lens head on. Some splattered against the kitchen walls. Some were sliced to bits by the whirling rotor blades. They pummelled into Matt’s football kit, leaving massive red blotches on his shorts and socks and shirt. But most of the strawberries hit the ceiling, where they stuck, like squashed supernovas.

  The hydro-copter was ricocheting around the kitchen, completely out of control, bouncing off the walls, knocking plants on to the floor and occasionally trying to decapitate us. At last it plunged into the sink, where it turned the washing-up water into an instant froth of shredded dishcloth and minced geraniums.

  The strawberries on the ceiling slowly unstuck themselves and rained down on us, the table, the floor, the washing – each one making a gentle ‘splop’ as it landed.

  I glanced across at Cat. She appeared to be in deep shock, rocking on her feet and dripping strawberry juice. She looked as if she’d just been pulled straight out of a jam pot. All I could see were the whites of her eyes, staring at me.

  I grabbed a couple of tea towels and threw one across to Gat. ‘Quick, clean up! Mum’s going to kill me.’

  She still didn’t move, but I didn’t have time to see what was up. The entire kitchen needed my emergency attention.

  I cleaned and wiped and mopped until I thought my arms would fall off. I shoved Matt’s footb
all kit into the washing machine and stuffed in all the dirty tea towels. By this time Gat was beginning to stir, so while that lot was washing we tidied up the rest of the place as best we could. I discovered most of Krazy Kow spreadeagled against the kitchen window. She’d been blown apart by the explosion. Her head was under the fridge. One leg was on the stove. Her udder was draped over a potted plant like some exotic bloom. I gathered up the bits and put them in a bag.

  There wasn’t much we could do about the ceiling. I just had to hope that nobody would notice.

  Cat stumbled home. I don’t know how she was going to explain herself to her parents. Something like: ‘Mum, I was just walking along minding my own business and this big dollop of strawberry jam fell out of the sky and landed on top of me.’

  Hmmm, maybe.

  I put the camera back, scuttled upstairs and hoped that everything would be all right. I passed the time by trying to stitch Krazy Kow back together.

  And everything was all right, for a while. When the others came in they were over the moon because someone important from the county team had been there to watch the training, and Matt had been brilliant, and Mr Important must have seen how good Matt was and he was going to be a football ace of the future and a real star!

  I thought: No! I’m going to be the star in this family. You wait and see. Krazy Kow is going to be much bigger than any footballer. Krazy Kow is going to take over the world. I just had to stitch her together first.

  Dad was rummaging among the shelves. ‘You remember that match against Hillside Junior, when you almost scored, but hit the crossbar? Take a look at it again, Matt, on the video and tell me what you’d do differently this time.’

  AAARGH! PANIC STATIONS!

  My heart stopped dead. My mouth wouldn’t work. My voice had dried up. That video was full of exploding strawberries!

 

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