The Karate Princess in Monsta Trouble
Jeremy Strong once worked in a bakery, putting the jam into three thousand doughnuts every night. Now he puts the jam in stories instead, which he finds much more exciting. At the age of three, he fell out of a first-floor bedroom window and landed on his head. His mother says that this damaged him for the rest of his life and refuses to take any responsibility. He loves writing stories because he says it is ‘the only time you alone have complete control and can make anything happen’. His ambition is to make you laugh (or at least snuffle). Jeremy Strong lives near Bath with four cats and a flying cow.
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First published by A & C Black 1999
Published in Puffin Books 2001
15
Text copyright ©Jeremy Strong, 1999
Illustrations copyright © Rowan Clifford, 2001
Illustrations based on the original artwork of Nick Sharratt © Nick Sharratt, 2001
All rights reserved
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978-0-14-192472-4
1 A Very Interesting Letter
The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the summer leaves were green, and the peaceful silence of the countryside was only broken by the sound of singing.
‘… Ziss leetle boat, sail, sail away, wizzer princess and high majesty…’
Up and down went the raspy, wheezing voice, as sweet and tender as sandpaper. It was a curious sound, and it came from a curious person. He was large and powerfully built, with long arms, long fingers and even longer fingernails. He had sharp, white teeth. He had flaring nostrils and red eyes. And more than anything else, he was hairy He had hair everywhere, including the soles of his feet.
Although the noise made by this strange creature sounded like a weasel being hit on the head, in fact he was singing. He was happy. He was singing for Belinda, the Karate Princess, and her very new husband, Hubert. Hubert and Belinda were on their honeymoon, and they had taken their best friend Knackerleevee with them.
It was Knackerleevee who was singing, in his best Bogle fashion. Knackerleevee was a Bogle of course, and that’s why he was so big and strong and hairy. He was also a wee bit smelly, although he didn’t pong quite so much since Belinda’s mum (the Queen) had given him some aftershave for Christmas.
And now all three of them were drifting down the river, gazing up at the beautiful blue sky, and the chirping birds, and the fliffy-fluffy clouds, and the itty-pretty…
‘I’m going mad with boredom!’ Belinda suddenly yelled at the sky. ‘I can’t take any more of this mooning about doing nothing except admiring scenery and saying what lovely weather it is. If something interesting doesn’t happen soon I shall, I shall, I shall… urgh!’ Belinda gave a desperate grunt, leapt from her seat and threw herself overboard. There was a loud splash and she vanished.
‘Woman overboard!’ cried Knackerleevee. ‘Her Highshipnest is drowning!’ The Bogle began rowing rapidly in as many different directions as possible in a frantic search for Belinda, but all that could be seen was a trail of bubbles on the surface.
Hubert leaned anxiously over the side, peering into the water. All at once a hand shot out of the water, grabbed the side of the boat and wrenched it so fiercely that both Knackerleevee and Hubert were cast into the water themselves.
Belinda surfaced, laughing loudly, but the Bogle was struggling and making strange gurgling noises.
‘Ug, ug, I can’t cug ug urgurgle gurgle SWIM!’ he finally managed to spurt out, along with a mouthful of river water and two very surprised fish.
‘You are hopeless,’ muttered Belinda as she grasped hold of the Bogle’s hairy head and held him above the water. With Hubert’s help she got Knackerleevee to the shore, where he lay in a soggy heap, panting.
‘I had to stop you singing somehow,’ Belinda explained. ‘Anyway, you used to live in The Marsh at the End of the World – the wettest place on earth – so how come you can’t swim?’
‘You don’t swim in a marsh,’ growled Knackerleevee. ‘It’s not deep enough. If it was deep it wouldn’t be a marsh, it would be a lake.’
Belinda grinned at him cheerfully. ‘I suppose that makes sense,’ she admitted. ‘Well, now what shall we do?’ she asked, looking at her two friends for ideas.
‘I’m wet,’ said Hubert. ‘Why don’t we go back home so we can put dry clothes on?’
‘I think her Royal Majesticbit will have to hang me on the washing line,’ said Knackerleevee gloomily. ‘It will take me weeks to dry out.’
‘Don’t be such a pair of miseries. It’s only water. In fact it was fun. It was the best fun we’ve had since the wedding. We’ve been here two days – TWO DAYS – and done absolutely nothing. I need action. There must be something to do.’
‘We could get dry,’ chorused Hubert and the Bogle. ‘That would be something to do.’
Belinda looked at them both and sighed. They were wet all over and limp round the
edges. She had to admit they did look just a little bit bedraggled. ‘All right, we’ll go home. Honestly you two must be the wettest wets in the whole kingdom.’
‘Thank you, Your Majesty,’ said Hubert, a trifle coldly.
‘Come on, I’ll race you both!’ Belinda cried and shot off across the grass towards her father’s castle.
‘Not running as well,’ moaned Knackerleevee, watching the fast vanishing princess. ‘I hate running with wet fur. It slaps around too much. Honestly, first I almost drown and now I have to slap myself with my own fur.’
‘She’s bored,’ Hubert explained, ‘She needs an adventure. I do hope she manages to find something to do soon.’
‘Me too, as long as it isn’t too far away, or too dangerous, or involves drowning and running. Come on, we’d better try and catch her up.’
By the time Hubert and Knackerleevee reached King Stormbelly’s castle, Belinda was already trying to use up her surplus energy She was pacing up and down the veranda, beheading various ancient members of the royal family as she went. Fortunately this was not quite as dreadful as it sounds – they weren’t real members of the family – they were statues that were placed all along the veranda. However, the princess’s father, King Stormbelly found it a trifle annoying.
‘I do wish you wouldn’t use your karate around the castle,’ he grumbled. ‘You do realize that you’ve just chopped off your Great Uncle Albert
’s head? And there goes Auntie Rosie! Can’t you find anything better to do?’
‘You should try knitting, dear,’ said the Queen equably. ‘Maybe you could make Knackerleevee a cardigan.’
‘A cardigan?!’ Belinda burst out laughing.
‘Or a pair of socks,’ added the Queen, ignoring her daughter’s loud snorts.
‘You can’t ask a great big hairy Bogle to wear a cardigan and socks!’
At this moment Knackerleevee appeared on the veranda. He stared sheepishly at the floor and twiddled his long fingernails.
‘Actually Your Worshipness, I would rather like a cardigan, I think… and socks. I’ve never had a cardigan or socks before.’ The Bogle raised his sad eyes and gazed wistfully at the Queen.
‘Oh, Knackerleevee – I didn’t realize! I mean, I never thought – I shall knit you a cardigan at once. Come over here so I can measure your arms, and tell me what colour you’d like.’ The Bogle immediately perked up and hurried over to the Queen, while Belinda threw herself into a deckchair and watched them moodily.
‘I cannot believe that a great big hairy Bogle could get excited about a-a-a cardigan,’ she snapped. ‘And socks!’ She spat out the words as if they were highly poisonous.
Hubert smiled. ‘He’s spent most of his life in a rather wet, rather gloomy, rather miserable marsh. A cardigan must seem quite splendid to him.’
Belinda turned and looked up at her husband. Her eyes filled with tenderness. ‘That’s why I married you. Oh, Hubert, I know I can be horrible at times. I only think of myself and adventures.
You’re quite right of course. Cardigans and socks must seem very exciting to someone who’s lived in a soggy marsh. It’s just that…’ her voice trailed away. ‘I wish there was something really exciting to do.’
Hubert squeezed her hand. ‘It would be good. You could have an adventure, and I could paint it.’
At this moment there was a loud clatter from beyond and a lot of shouting. A messenger came galloping round the side of the castle, skidded to a halt and was thrown head-over-heels from his panting pony landing in a cloud of dust at King Stormbelly’s feet. The messenger plucked a letter from his pocket and waved it at the King.
‘Urgent message from my master, the Duke,’ he cried.
‘Oh! A letter. How fascinating.’ The King pushed a podgy finger under the seal and unrolled the battered scroll. ‘Ah! It’s from my brother!’
‘Which brother is that, dear?’ enquired the Queen, knowing that the King had seven brothers dotted about here and there.
‘It’s Dudless, Duke of Dork,’ began Stormbelly straining his eyes to read the childlike scrawl. The Queen was surprised.
‘Really? I didn’t think Dudless could read, let alone write.’
‘It is an odd letter,’ admitted King Stormbelly. He showed it to Belinda. ‘There – what do you make of it?’
Belinda studied the message carefully.
A slow smile spread across Belinda’s face. ‘At last,’ she sighed dreamily ‘An adventure – something to do. Hurrah.’
2 Introducing Dudless, Duke of Dork
‘Come on!’ cried the Karate Princess. ‘There’s a two-headed MoNsta on the loose, eating armies and pet rabbits. And there’s a prize too – so hurry up!’
‘But what about my cardigan?’ Knackerleevee was crestfallen.
The Queen patted Knackerleevee on one hairy arm. ‘It’s all right, dear, you run along. I’ve got all the measurements I need. By the time you get back I might even have finished it.’
‘Now look here,’ steamed King Stormbelly, ‘you’re on your honeymoon. You’re supposed to be relaxing.’
‘If I relax any more my head will fall off.’
‘I do wish you were more like your other sisters. I mean to say, they’re all…’
‘Beautiful?’ suggested Belinda.
‘Exactly. And they’re…’
‘Witty?’ Belinda put in.
‘Quite so. And they’re…’
‘Boring?’ said Belinda slyly.
‘Definitely! Heh – no! I mean definitely not! You-you,’ stuttered the King, ‘you were trying to trick me then, weren’t you?’
Belinda gave her father an innocent glance. The Queen laughed quietly. ‘I think you must admit dear that your youngest daughter is every bit as clever as her sisters – if not cleverer.’
‘Doh! Codswallop and poppywhatsits. If you want to go dancing off to get chewed up by a two-headed MoNsta then don’t expect me to stop you.’
‘But you are trying to stop me,’ Belinda pointed out.
‘Ah! Ah!’ cried the King, wagging a finger at his daughter. ‘I was, but I’m not any longer, and I hope he eats you up in one mouthful. See if I care!’
‘Thank you, Daddy.’ Belinda smiled, kissing her father on his bald head and making him blush furiously ‘I shall take that as your blessing on our dangerous mission. Come on, Hubert. You’d better go and pack all your paint things.’
So it was that a short time later the three adventurers climbed on to their horses (Knackerleevee’s horse was an extra large, extra strong beast called Goliath), and set off to find Stormbelly’s brother and the dreadful MoNsta.
Hubert was carrying a big, sharp sword. Knackerleevee was also armed to the teeth. (Actually he was armed with his teeth – and his long talons and great strength.) But the only weapon that Belinda had was her bare hands.
Belinda was not known as the Karate Princess for nothing. She had been taught karate by Hiro Ono, the most famous karate expert in this book – even in the whole world, and she had been his best pupil. In fact, so good was Belinda at karate that she had defeated (in the past, and not all at the same time) the merciless Cut-Throat Robbers, a fearful steam-dragon, and a whole army of sumo-wrestlers, not to mention the odious Grand Oompah of Pomposity.
Of course being good at karate was not always quite enough to get by on, but luckily Belinda was also cunning, and she had her two very good companions, Hubert and Knackerleevee, to help her. Now, as they approached her uncle’s castle, she had high hopes for an excellent adventure.
The Duke of Dork looked much like his brother Stormbelly, except that he was shorter, fatter, balder and had a very high squeaky voice. This made him seem even more stupid than he really was, and in reality the Duke of Dork was very stupid indeed. He was so useless that Belinda felt quite sorry for him. ‘Dorinda!’ cried the Duke. ‘It’s you!’
‘BELINDA,’ corrected the Karate Princess. ‘You always call me Dorinda, and my name is Belinda.’
‘Sorry so sorry. What a wonderful funeral that was! I did enjoy myself. Lovely dress!’ The
Duke gave Knackerleevee a sly prod. ‘This must be your new wife? Charming, but a bit too hairy for my taste, and far too tall. Guard! Fetch me a ladder so that I can kiss the bride.’ Knackerleevee shot an alarmed look at the princess.
‘It was my WEDDING, Uncle, not a funeral. And please meet Hubert, my HUSBAND, who is not at all hairy.’
‘Oh silly me, of course. Well, my dears, it is lovely to see you. Are you on your jammy?’
The three friends glanced at each other. What was a jammy? The Duke observed their puzzlement. ‘Oh you must know what I mean,’ he said airily. ‘Maybe I’ve got the word wrong. I know it’s something to do with jam, or is it marmalade? Honey maybe?’
‘Perhaps you mean “honeymoon”,’ suggested Hubert politely.
‘Of course, yes, that’s the one. Is that why you’re here? Are you going to spend some of your honeyspoon with us? Splendid!’ The Duke of Dork beamed at the Duchess, who Belinda suddenly realized was sitting very quietly in a corner, playing cards with herself.
Belinda hadn’t noticed her at all. She hadn’t taken part in any of the conversation so far, which Belinda thought was a little strange. Then she remembered that the Duchess always put large chunks of cheese in her ear, as ear plugs, so that she didn’t have to listen to her husband’s constant nonsense.
‘Actually,’ said Belinda,
‘we’ve come on another matter.’
‘Oh yes? Is it teatime? Have you come for tea?’
‘No, Uncle. We haven’t come for tea. It’s something altogether more dangerous.’
‘Ah!’ The Duke’s eyes lit up. ‘Of course! You mean supper. You’ve come for supper!’
Hubert leaned forward, looking puzzled. ‘Is supper dangerous around these parts?’ he asked. The Duke nodded seriously.
‘Indeed it is. I keep poking myself in the eye with my fork. Daft thing, if you ask me. I’d rather use my fingers.’
‘Why don’t you?’ suggested Hubert. The Duke of Dork took a step back, gazed at Hubert with utter astonishment, stepped forward again, flung his short arms round the painter and hugged him.
‘Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Excellent
idea! Oho, I can’t wait for supper now, especially if you’re coming too.’
‘We haven’t come for supper,’ Belinda explained patiently ‘Don’t you remember, Uncle? You wrote to my father about a problem you have here – a big problem.’
‘The downstairs toilet doesn’t flush any more?’
‘No, it wasn’t the toilet.’
‘It’s that mouse in the kitchen, isn’t it – the one that keeps eating the Duchess’s best Camembert?’
‘No, it’s not the mouse in the kitchen.’
‘Oh.’ The Duke gave her a grumpy glance. ‘Well, I don’t know then. Give me a clue.’
Knackerleevee sighed impatiently.
‘It’s got two heads and goes “Raaaargh!”’ he growled.
‘It’s the cat!’ cried the Duke with a huge smile.
‘NO!’ yelled Belinda, finally losing all patience. ‘It’s the two-headed MoNsta that’s eaten your army and your rabbit.’
The Duke of Dork turned very pale and began to tremble, and since he was mostly made of fat he trembled quite spectacularly His three chins wobbled, his cheeks quivered, his bottom bounced about and his belly shook like an enormous jelly.