Krazy Kow Saves the World - Well, Almost Page 5

  ‘You don’t want to watch it now,’ I blurted out. ‘You’ve just been watching football.’

  ‘Fresh in the mind,’ said Dad. ‘It’s the last bit I filmed, so it should be here.’

  The TV flickered into life. There was Matt, running across a field, chasing a ball. For a brief moment I thought: It’s going to be all right. Maybe the strawberries come much later than this. Then the film went crackly, the screen cleared and the next thing everyone saw was:

  Gemma.

  And Justin.

  Snogging.

  With the sound effects I’d made.

  [Shlurrppy-shlopp kisskisskisskisskissy shlippy shlurrp!]

  We stared and stared and stared. It seemed to go on for ever. Mum and Dad and Matt all leaned forward in their chairs, as if to get an even closer view.

  ‘Listen to it,’ murmured Mum in a shocked whisper. ‘I think they’re eating each other.’ She turned to Dad. ‘Did you know this was going on?’

  Dad shook his head.

  At that moment the front door opened and Gemma walked in, fresh from her Air Cadet training. ‘Hi, everyone! You’ll never guess what…’ Her voice suddenly broke off as she saw the TV.

  ‘Good evening,’ Mum said stiffly.

  On telly the two air cadets came up for air. Then they started again. Gemma stared at the TV as if it was the most horrifyingly scary thing she had ever seen. (It was!)

  Dad switched off. He got up and gazed steadily at Gemma.

  ‘You’ve got some explaining to do,’ he growled.

  Gemma burst into tears and fled the room. Mum went after her, and that left Dad wondering how Gemma had actually come to be filmed, on his camera. He looked at Matt, but Matt had been out playing football. He looked at me. His eyes stayed looking at me. This could prove to be difficult.

  8 Gobb-Yobb Sets a Trap

  Scene One

  Gobb-Yobb Badmash is in a foul mood. He would be stamping up and down Castle Corruption if he had legs, but he’s a slug, so he doesn’t. No wonder he’s in a foul mood. He fixes Secretary Snirch with a malevolent eye.

  ‘Kwazy Kow must die!’ he hisses.

  ‘Good idea,’ agrees Snirch.

  ‘We must lure her into a twap and eliminate her.’

  ‘Good idea,’ nods Snirch.

  ‘We need something to bait the twap.’

  ‘What about someone?’ grins Snirch. ‘There are two children living with Krazy Kow. Bromley, the boy, is a football fanatic,’ he announces, and Gobb-Yobb Badmash claps his little hands with delight.

  ‘A football fan! Oh good, they’re always the easiest. We shall send a Mashman to have a little talk with Sidcup…’

  ‘Bromley,’ Snirch corrects the leader.

  ‘… and see how helpful he can be.’ Gobb-Yobb sighs and leans back upon his throne. ‘I am looking forward to this. Kwazy Kow, your Moment of Doom is coming fast.’

  Scene Two

  Bromley Spottiswood is standing in front of his bedroom mirror, dressed in full United kit. He twists this way and that, admiring himself. He makes a few pretend kicks, imagining the roar of the delighted crowd as he scores one goal after another.

  ‘You’d make a bwilliant United player,’ says a quiet voice. Bromley spins round. There, sitting on his bed, is a Mashman. (In fact it is Gobb-Yobb himself.)

  [The Gobb-Yobb theme tune]

  ‘Where did you come from? How did you get into my room?’

  Gobb-Yobb smiles. ‘I came down the chimney, like Father Chwistmas.’

  There isn’t a fireplace in my room,’ Bromley points out.

  ‘Oh, give us a bweak!’ snaps Gobb-Yobb. ‘You childwen are so picky these days. It doesn’t matter how I got here. This is your lucky day. There is something I can do for you.’

  ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘I can make your dweams come twue.’

  ‘You don’t know what my dreams are,’ says Bromley.

  ‘You want to be a football star. You want to play for United in the Cup Final and score the winning goal.’

  Bromley stares at Gobb-Yobb as if the slug has just read his mind, which of course he has. Gobb-Yobb – is very good at reading minds, especially when they are so small.

  That would be wonderful,’ sighs Bromley. ‘Can you really do that?’

  ‘Of course. It’s not difficult. But in weturn I need a favour fwom you.’ Gobb-Yobb leans forward. ‘You have a fwend living here with you, a cow.’

  ‘That’s right, Krazy Kow.’

  ‘I want to know what her weak spot is.’

  ‘I can’t tell you that!’

  ‘Oh dear. I’m so sowwy. Then I can’t make you into a football star.’

  Hmm, thinks Bromley. This is difficult. He battles with his conscience, and loses, very quickly.

  ‘In that case I will tell you,’ says Bromley cheerfully.

  The boy’s a pushover,’ murmurs Gobb-Yobb to himself. ‘He has as much backbone as a jellyfish.’

  ‘Did you say something?’

  ‘Yes, but you won’t understand. Ignowance, as people say, is bliss. And before you intewwupt, don’t wowwy, you won’t understand that either. Now, what is Kwazy Kow’s weak spot? Do tell.’

  ‘She is allergic to nuclear chickens.’

  ‘Nuclear chickens?! But there are no such cweatures in the universe!’

  That’s why KK is so successful. If there were nuclear chickens, she would be in dead trouble, and by that I mean that she would be in trouble, and dead.’

  ‘Ha ha! The boy has a sense of humour. Well, it’s all vewy stwange and intewesting,’ mutters Gobb-Yobb. ‘I must get to work at once.’

  ‘Hey! What about making me into a football star?’

  ‘Dweam on!’ cries Gobb-Yobb. I’m an evil villain. Surely you don’t expect me to keep my pwomises?’

  He vanishes in a puff of smoke.

  Bromley sits on his bed. He wonders what Gobb-Yobb will do. Has he betrayed Krazy Kow by telling of her secret weakness? Bromley shakes his head. No. After all, there are no such things as nuclear chickens. They don’t exist. Gobb-Yobb Badmash admitted that himself. Bromley smiles. He isn’t a traitor at all.

  Scene Three

  Back at Castle Corruption Gobb-Yobb is over the moon. He has been working on a new invention and now he is presenting it to Snirch for the first time. A strange creature struts before them, pecking at the ground.

  [Chicken music and sound effect of pecking]

  It looks like a large chicken, except that its body is more in the shape of a cube than anything truly animal. Gobb-Yobb smiles.

  This is the cweature that is going to destwoy Kwazy Kow once and for all,’ he cries. ‘I have cweated an atomic cockewel. Behold – Nuclear Weactor Chicken!’

  [Chicken suddenly lifts head, looks straight

  at camera, winks and crows.]

  Secretary Snirch admires the fabulously foul fowl, while the Dark Contaminator explains the next stage of his dastardly plan.

  ‘We set a twap – let’s say a nice enviwonmental accident…’

  ‘A giant oil tanker leaking millions of gallons of oil into the ocean!’ suggests Snirch.

  ‘Possibly. Or maybe an explosion at a chemical factowy that sends poisonous fumes dwifting across the countwyside killing evewything in its path…’

  ‘Oh yes,’ croons Snirch. ‘Or we could kill off every single whale and tiger left on the planet…’

  ‘And the pandas,’ adds Gobb-Yobb. ‘Don’t forget the giant pandas. I hate them: stupid, fat, fluffy things with as much bwain power as a lollipop. I can’t understand why humans like them so much. They go nuts over them.’ Gobb-Yobb’s voice changes to a dreamy sing-song. ‘“Ooooh, I want to give it an ickle cuddle. Come and give me a lovely big huggy-wuggy.” Blurgh!’

  The two evil villains gaze at each other and sigh with pleasure at their sheer nastiness. They are having such fun. Gobb-Yobb smiles dreamily.

  ‘Now, which idea will it be?’

  9 Gloria Gives a Helping Ha
nd

  Gemma isn’t speaking to me any more. She thinks I betrayed her by filming her with Justin, but how was I to know Dad and Mum would see it? It isn’t as if I filmed it especially. It was Gemma’s fault for getting in the way when I pressed the record button. I tried to say sorry but she spends all her time shut in her room and won’t listen. Anyhow, it was a golden opportunity definitely not to be missed.

  I told Cat what had happened and she just thought it was funny but then Gemma’s not her big sister, is she?

  I guess I should be glad that Dad never got round to seeing the rest of the film – the bit with the exploding strawberries. He was so cross he chucked away the whole cartridge, so it’s bye-bye to my Oscar-winning exploding strawberries, not to mention my brilliant bit of true life drama –

  AIR CADETS IN MID-AIR COLLISION! STARRING GEMMA AND JUSTIN

  Don’t miss the new romantic horror film from Jamie Frink: the world’s greatest film director.

  Their eyes met, their noses met, their lips met – and the audience threw up.

  See? I just can’t help myself. Even though I know I’ve really upset Gemma I also know it makes a brilliant bit of film. I feel pretty bad about the whole business. I wish I knew how to make things right with Gemma.

  As for Mum, she’s terribly worried about the kitchen. She thinks some kind of strange mould is creeping across the ceiling.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ she told our neighbour. ‘It’s pinky-red, and it looks like enormous chicken-pox blisters. I think I ought to call in a mould expert.’

  ‘Sounds more like you need a doctor,’ murmured the neighbour.

  Anyhow, Cat and I are going to have to start all over again.

  To make matters worse things are bad at school too. They started off all right. Mrs Drew called me into her office. I stood there wondering what I’d done wrong, but it turned out to be nothing like that.

  ‘I have to tell you, Jamie, Dwight Trellis and Kooky Savage are coming tomorrow. It’s so exciting!’

  So that bit of news was OK, but it was later that things began to go wrong. We tried to do some more filming, out in the playground. Mrs Drew wanted to have another go at Krazy Kow saving the nuclear reactor. (Exactly! We still haven’t managed to film the first episode yet, and the competition entries have to be in by the end of this week, not to mention Dwight Trellis and Kooky Savage coming to watch the whole thing. Time is running out!)

  Anyhow, I had a good idea. I’d been really worried about how badly the filming was going, not to mention the fact that Mrs Drew isn’t making Krazy Kow as a cartoon, which is what it’s meant to be, so I’ve sent a copy of my film script to a film company in America, Awesome Productions. They made that fantastic blockbuster Starship Conqueror, with all the amazing special effects. (Remember the collapsing battle-cruiser, the wall of fire, and the multi-headed space-spiders with telescopic legs? Wow!)

  They are going to love my idea for Krazy Kow! I’m expecting to hear from them any day now. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if one of their agents was on his way over here right now. He’ll draw up outside my house in a super-stretch limo, one of those things with about twenty windows and ten doors down each side. He’ll step out in a really sharp suit and when he sees me he’ll say: ‘Hey! You must be the one and only Jamie Frink, creator of Krazy Kow. We want to make your film. It’s going to be mega. I’ve a contract here for a million billion trillion dollars.’

  And I’ll say: ‘Hmmm, maybe. I’ll think about it.’

  No! Not really! I’ll say: ‘Yippee!’ Or even like this: ‘YIPPEE!!!’

  In the meantime we have been trying to do some more filming at school. We were well organized, so Mrs Drew left us to it. Cat seems to think she is now my Personal Assistant. She’s made a clapperboard from a slice of thick card and a ruler. She keeps getting in the way of the camera and shouting, ‘Action!’

  We were filming a bit where Krazy Kow is attacked by the Mashmen. Half of my class were wearing tights and black polo-neck sweaters, with black bin liners for capes. Meanwhile Krazy Kow was stomping about the playground bellowing, ‘I am the Cow! Moo!’ at the top of her lungs.

  And then, just when it was beginning to look quite exciting, Miss Ghosh brought out her class of four – and five-year-olds in their leotards and pants and tiny vests. (Those little ones look so funny when they’re doing PE! They’re like miniature wind-up toys that have gone out of control.)

  Of course, the first thing the teeny-toddlers see is a large cow being chased by nasty men in black tights and rustling black bin bags flapping behind them. Half of them burst into tears on the spot.

  ‘There are horrible men chasing that poor cow!’ cried one little boy, and he promptly sat down in a heap of tears. Half a dozen wind-up toys immediately tripped over him and set up more wailing. This was rapidly turning into a Who-Can-Wail-The-Loudest Competition.

  ‘Come on, let’s save that cow!’ This came from Gloria, the biggest girl in Miss Ghosh’s class. I mean, she was BIG! She was only four years old but she looked more like forty. She had arms with muscles like rolling pins. (I found out later she was Mrs Bevinson’s granddaughter.) So Gloria set off after the Mashmen, yelling her battle cry, with fifteen other tiny tots screaming behind her, while the rest of the class sat in the playground going ‘boo-hoo’ in very loud voices.

  The Mashmen stopped and turned to see what was going on. Some of them were laughing. They thought the teeny tots were funny.

  ‘Aren’t they sweet?’ I heard one say, before he was mown down by fifteen pairs of toddling trainers bent on revenge.

  ‘Children! Children!’ cried poor Miss Ghosh, trying to run after them in six different directions at once. But her class weren’t children any longer. They had turned into monstrous trolls, bent on rescuing a poor cow. When the ones sitting down saw how successful the attackers were they hurried to join in. Soon the Mashmen were running for their lives, while Gat raced after them, banging her clapperboard and shouting, ‘Cut! Cut!’

  A crowd of delighted toddlers mobbed Krazy Kow and patted her sides.

  ‘You’re a lovely cow!’ they said. ‘You can come to our class and have tea.’

  At this suggestion Krazy Kow appeared to fold herself in half as the two boys inside clung to each other for safety.

  ‘We don’t want any tea,’ trembled Carl, up at the front end. Gloria folded her arms across her chest.

  ‘Yes you do,’ she insisted. ‘Come on.’

  (Gloria is one of those Very Helpful Girls. Do you know the kind I mean? She’s the sort of person you find next to you when you’re having second thoughts about doing something dangerous, like jumping off the top diving board at the swimming pool. ‘You can do it, go on. It’s easy You can do it. Just stand nearer the edge. I’ll help you. There.’ Push. Scream. Splash. Gloria looks down at the body floating in the water. ‘Go on then, swim. Can’t you hear? Got water in your ears? I said SWIM! No! I didn’t say SINK TO THE BOTTOM OF THE POOL! What’s the point in drowning, you daft wotsit? You’re dead now. You’re useless, you are.’)

  So Gloria was being Very Helpful Indeed, and the two children inside Krazy Kow were scared. ‘I really need a wee,’ Carl whispered to the back half, but Gloria heard him, and since she was still Being Helpful she promptly grabbed Krazy Kow by one horn.

  ‘Follow me,’ she said, dragging the poor cow towards the infant toilets, with Carl almost being strangled and making urrrghaaarrrgh choking noises. Gloria then tried to reverse the protesting moo-cow through the door of the girls’ toilet. If it hadn’t been for Miss Ghosh, goodness knows what would have happened next.

  ‘Get that cow out of there at once!’

  ‘The cow said she wanted a wee,’ Gloria explained, ramming her knee into Krazy Kow’s chest and giving her a helpful shove backwards. The wind was knocked from Carl and he collapsed on the floor, wheezing.

  ‘This is a pretend cow, Gloria. Real cows can’t talk.’

  Gloria turned and stared at Krazy
Kow, who slowly began to fall apart in front of her very eyes. The back half split from the front and Martin Coggles stumbled out, clutching his nose.

  ‘I’ve godda dose bleed,’ he mumbled, with blood dripping through his fingers and on to the floor.

  And then Krazy Kow pulled off her head and a cross-eyed Carl managed to blurt out rather huskily: ‘I am the Cow!’

  Gloria screamed at the bleeding, headless heifer and ran for her life, while Carl gazed up at Miss Ghosh as if he was about to expire on the spot.

  ‘I really do need a…’

  ‘Yes, all right, go!’ cried Miss Ghosh. ‘The rest of you follow me. PE has been cancelled!’

  All around the playground the bruised and trampled Mashmen struggled to their feet. I reckon the world didn’t need Krazy Kow any more. Those Mashmen didn’t stand a chance.

  Miss Ghosh’s toddlers could save the world, no problem at all.

  Mrs Drew came hurrying out of a doorway and made her way across the playground. She beamed at me. ‘How did it go? Looks like you’ve been having fun!’

  ‘Miss Ghosh’s class came out to do PE,’ I began, but Mrs Drew had just spotted Martin Coggles.

  ‘That’s a nasty nose bleed you have there, Martin. Have some of the boys been a bit rough?’

  ‘Id wad Gloria Bevindod,’ Martin growled.

  The head teacher threw back her head and laughed. ‘Gloria Bevinson? A four-year-old giving a ten-year-old a big nose bleed like that? Don’t be ridiculous! Come on then, everyone inside, fun and games over for today. I’m quite sure that our famous guests tomorrow are going to love your film, Jamie.’

  Inwardly I groaned. Yeah. They were going to love my film about as much as you love a pie in the face. My dream of Krazy Kow had turned into my worst nightmare ever. Would it never end?