Stinkbomb and Ketchup-Face and the Quest for the Magic Porcupine Read online

  “Thanks,” said the shark. It neatly snipped off the ends of the bananas with its teeth and sucked the fruit out, leaving Stinkbomb holding the empty skins. “Yum,” it said.

  “I didn’t think hammerhead sharks ate bananas,” said the rabbit. “Not that I’m complaining,” it added quickly. “Eat as many bananas as you like. I bet they’re much tastier than rabbits and children. I just didn’t think you did eat bananas, that’s all.”

  “Me neither,” Stinkbomb agreed. “I thought you were a bottom feeder.”

  “Ewwww,” said the shark. “That sounds disgusting.”

  “I mean,” explained Stinkbomb quickly, “I thought you ate things off the bottom of the sea.”

  “Oh, yes,” agreed the shark. “I do that, all right. That’s how I found out about bananas. I was swimming along one day, when a sailor holding a bunch of bananas fell out of a boat and landed on the seabed. So I ate them. And they were delicious, too. The bananas, that is. I don’t eat sailors. I gave him a ride home instead.”

  “Where does he live?” asked Ketchup-Face.

  “Here, on Great Kerfuffle,” said the shark. “Down the river, in Asillyname. Which is funny, ’cause he actually has a silly name. He’s called Captain Bonkers.”

  “That is a silly name,” agreed Ketchup-Face.

  “I stayed in the river,” the shark went on, “just swimming up and down, ’cause he’s been bringing me bananas and they’re so tasty. But I haven’t seen him since Tuesday, and I’ve been getting a bit hungry.”

  “What do you do with the skins?” Stinkbomb asked.

  “Oh, I just drop them on the riverbed,” the shark said. “I’ve been dropping them in a neat little pile under the bridge at Loose Pebbles. This morning some badgers came along with a barrel and fished them out.”

  “The badgers!” said Stinkbomb, his suspicions instantly aroused and his clever brain starting to put things together. “Did they fish out anything else?”

  “Just some water and mud,” the shark said.

  “Was it the sort of mud that would make water horrible, inky-splattery, thick, wet, and darkly splotchy?” asked Stinkbomb.

  The shark shrugged, which is difficult for something with no shoulders. “I suppose it would,” it said.

  “And the banana skins would make it smell faintly of bananas!” said Ketchup-Face.

  “Exactly!” said Stinkbomb. “But that doesn’t help us stop them. We’ll never get back to Loose Pebbles in time.”

  “You might,” suggested the shark. “If I give you a ride. Hop on!”

  “Thanks!” said Stinkbomb, scrambling onto the shark’s back.

  “Yes, thanks!” said the rabbit, clambering up behind him.

  “GIDDYUP!”

  said Ketchup-Face, climbing on in front.

  CHAPTER 55

  IN WHICH

  OUR HEROES GO ON AN EXCITING SHARKBACK RIDE IN A BRAVE ATTEMPT TO SAVE THE DAY

  Traveling on sharkback was gloriously exciting. It was even faster than the little shopping cart, and it didn’t keep veering off to the left or leave a crisscross pattern on your bottom. On they sped, leaving behind them a great trail of white, frothing, foaming water that smelled very, very faintly of bananas.

  “What did you say your names were again?” asked the shark.

  “Stinkbomb,” said Stinkbomb.

  “Ketchup-Face,” said Ketchup-Face.

  “The legendary Magic Porcupine of Stupidity,” said the rabbit.

  “Really?” said the hammerhead shark. “You look more like a rabbit in a spiky coat to me.”

  The rabbit looked a little crestfallen. “I’m just the stand-in,” it admitted.

  “And what’s your name?” asked Stinkbomb. He was already looking forward to telling his friends all about his death-defying ride on the back of a shark, and thought it would be even more exciting if he could tell them that the shark was called Killer, or Daggerteeth, or Terror of the Deep.

  “Felicity,” said the shark.

  “Oh,” said Stinkbomb. “Is that short for anything?” he added hopefully. “Like Felicity the Devourer of Thousands, or Felicity the Great Death-Machine of the Ocean?”

  “Nope,” said the shark happily. “Just Felicity. I did have an uncle once who was called Arthur the Devourer of Hundreds and Thousands, but that was because he liked those little colorful bobbly bits they sometimes put on ice cream. Any time you had an ice cream, Uncle Arthur would come along and devour the hundreds and thousands before you had a chance to.” Felicity sighed. “Poor old Uncle Arthur. It was sad, what happened to him.”

  “Oh,” said Stinkbomb. “What did happen?”

  The shark sighed again. “All his teeth went rotten and fell out. Apparently those things are pure sugar. Now they call him Arthur the Devourer of Soup and Soggy Cereal. It’s a pretty bad name, really.”

  “Yes, it is,” said Stinkbomb, thinking himself lucky he wasn’t stuck with a silly name.

  “Oh, dear,” said the rabbit, sniffing the air and looking at the sky. “It’s getting late. I hope we can stop the badgers before the end of the story.”

  “We will,” said Ketchup-Face confidently. “It’s that kind of story.”

  “Besides,” added Stinkbomb, “Felicity’s going faster than the 36A, and that goes the long way around. We’ll get to Loose Pebbles in plenty of time to warn everybody.”

  But what Stinkbomb had no way of knowing was that the 36A was no longer going the long way around. It had come to a sign that said:

  The route via the Volcano of Death, the Swamp of Misery, the Mountains of Doom, and the Valley of Despair has been declared temporarily unsafe due to some slippery mud on the road surface. Please take the alternative route.

  Not only that, but Mr. Creepy had made the mistake of stopping the bus and getting off to use the toilet, and of course the badgers had immediately stolen it—the bus, that is, not the toilet. Now they were driving it too fast toward the unsuspecting village of Loose Pebbles.

  And there was no one there to warn the villagers of the avalanche of badgery badness that was about to sweep down over them

  CHAPTER 56

  IN WHICH

  THE BADGERS DRIVE

  TOO FAST

  The animals that lived near the bank of the River Yuk sniffed the air, and looked at the sky, and glanced at each other worriedly.

  “Can it be . . . ?” whispered an old mole.

  “Surely not,” muttered a toad.

  “Could we be mistaken?” asked a water rat; and they all sniffed the air and looked at the sky again.

  “It’s true, all right,” said a squirrel sadly. “There really is a one-in-seventy-million chance of any of us being killed or injured by an asteroid during our lifetime.”

  “We weren’t talking about that,” said the water rat impatiently. “Anyway, one-in-seventy-million means hardly any chance at all.”

  “You’ve more chance of winning the lottery,” agreed a hedgehog.

  “Or getting struck by lightning,” added a thrush.

  “Really?” said the squirrel, and it rushed off to buy a lottery ticket and a pair of rubber boots.

  The other animals shook their heads sadly, and sniffed the air and looked at the sky again.

  “It’s true,” said the old mole. “Those wicked badgers have stolen Mr. Creepy’s bus and are driving it too fast toward Loose Pebbles.”

  “And here they come now!” said the water rat.

  As the Number 36A bus roared past, chock-full of badgers and trailing a huge filthy cloud of dust and fumes behind it, the creatures angrily made their displeasure clear. The mole booed, the toad hissed, the water rat shouted a naughty word, the hedgehog performed a short but powerful piece of theater, and the thrush got out a catapult and a bag of snails. A blackbird blew a raspberry, a raspbird blacked a blueberry,
a bluebird rasped a blackberry, and in the river a school of minnows quickly made some banners and organized a demonstration.

  But all for nothing. The badgers drove on, their attention focused only on their wicked and evil plans, on driving too fast, and on trying to find a radio station that was playing music they all liked.

  As the bus disappeared into the distance, the squirrel returned, sniffing the air and looking at the sky.

  “All is not lost!” it said, carefully tucking its lottery ticket into one of its rubber boots. “Two children and a Magic Porcupine are coming down the river on the back of a hammerhead shark to save the day!”

  “Now you’re just being silly,” grumbled the water rat.

  But even as it spoke, a magnificent sight appeared upstream. Felicity was swimming faster than ever, her mighty tail driving her powerfully onward. On her back rode three heroic figures, like warriors of old only smaller and, in the case of the one at the front, rather more ketchup-stained. It was so completely splendid and awe-inspiring that suddenly and out of nowhere an invisible orchestra began to play a majestic and stirring theme tune.

  The animals began to cheer, and the minnows quickly changed their banners to read “Hooray!” instead of “Boo!”

  Stinkbomb waved proudly. Ketchup-Face stood up to take a bow, and fell off into the river with a big splash, so Felicity had to stop to let her get back on again.

  And then the water rat shouted, “Wait a minute! That’s not a Magic Porcupine! It’s a rabbit in a spiky coat!”

  “Humph,” grumped the other animals. And they all sloped off angrily, while the dramatic theme music ended in a discordant clanging as all the invisible musicians fell off their chairs.

  “I may be just a rabbit in a spiky coat,” shouted the rabbit unhappily, standing up and shaking its paws at them, “but I’m the only Magic Porcupine you’ve got!”

  But the riverbank animals had left.

  CHAPTER 57

  IN WHICH

  THE RABBIT IN THE SPIKY COAT IS SAD

  BOO-HOO,” sobbed the rabbit.

  “Oh, don’t cry, sweet little rabbit!” said Ketchup-Face earnestly, and she stood up and threw her arms around it. “OW!” she added, after pricking her fingers on its spiky coat.

  This made the rabbit cry even more. “It’s no use!” it said. “This story needs a proper Magic Porcupine. The badgers are going to win, and we’ll have to spend the rest of our lives sitting on a shark!”

  Stinkbomb thought about this. The idea of spending the rest of his life sitting on a shark certainly sounded interesting, but he wasn’t sure he would actually like it. So he decided to cheer the rabbit up.

  “This story does need a Magic Porcupine,” he said. “And you’re right—you’re the only Magic Porcupine we’ve got! We need you!”

  “But all I can do are silly conjuring tricks,” the rabbit said, pulling a large spotted hankie from behind Stinkbomb’s ear and blowing its nose on it—the hankie, that is, not the ear. “How can I possibly help defeat the badgers?”

  “I think I know!” Stinkbomb said. “I’ve just thought of a Clever Plan!”

  “Tell us on the way,” suggested Felicity, sniffing the air and looking at the sky. “The badgers are going to reach Loose Pebbles ahead of us after all!”

  “WHEEE!” shouted Ketchup-Face, as Felicity’s tail thrashed the river once more, and they took off like a mighty fish-powered rocket.

  “Giddyup Fishy!”

  CHAPTER 58

  IN WHICH

  OUR HEROES NEAR THE VILLAGE, AND THE STORY NEARS THE END

  Mr. and Mrs. Neck and their children, Samuel and Philippa, were out for a bicycle ride by the river when suddenly a hammerhead shark pulled up beside them and the little girl on its back asked, “Excuse me, have you seen some badgers driving a bus too fast?”

  “Yes, we have!” said Mrs. Neck. “Not very long ago, actually. We’d stopped to say ‘Good evening’ to King Toothbrush Weasel . . .”

  “And suddenly a bus full of badgers roared around the corner going much too fast,” added Mr. Neck.

  “Yes,” said Samuel. “They stopped, and tied up King Toothbrush Weasel and threw him in the bus and drove off too fast again.”

  “You know,” said Philippa, “I think there was something suspicious about that. Should we tell someone?”

  “No need!” said Stinkbomb importantly. “I am Stinkbomb, and this is Ketchup-Face, and we have gone on a quest to Stupidity and brought back a Magic Porcupine to take care of the badgers and rescue King Toothbrush Weasel!”

  “That’s not a Magic Porcupine,” said Samuel. “It’s a rabbit in a spiky coat.”

  The rabbit folded its paws crossly.

  “Did the badgers say where they were going?” Ketchup-Face asked.

  “No,” said Mr. Neck, “they didn’t.”

  “Although, just before they drove off,” said Philippa, “they changed the display on the front of the bus. Instead of saying

  LOOSE PEBBLES

  ---

  via the Volcano of Death, the Swamp of Misery, the Mountains of Doom, and the Valley of Despair

  it said

  THE OLD DESERTED WAREHOUSE

  ---

  Next To The River

  Does that help?”

  “Yes!” said Stinkbomb. “It does! Thanks!”

  “Giddyup, fishy!” added Ketchup-Face.

  And with a mighty thrashing of a sharky tail, they were gone.

  The Neck family watched them go.

  “Do you know,” said Mr. Neck, “I wonder if perhaps those badgers have kidnapped King Toothbrush Weasel.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” said Mrs. Neck. “I wonder where they’ve taken him?”

  “Hmmm,” said Samuel. “You know, if I were a bad guy, and I’d kidnapped someone and wanted to hide him, I’d probably take him somewhere not many people go. Like . . .”

  “Like the old deserted warehouse next to the river?” suggested Philippa.

  CHAPTER 59

  IN WHICH

  THE STORY RACES TOWARD AN EXCITING CLIMAX

  The old deserted warehouse next to the river was very old, and completely deserted. It was also a warehouse. And it was next to the river, which meant that Felicity was able to take them almost to the door.

  “Good luck,” she whispered.

  “Thanks,” Stinkbomb and Ketchup-Face whispered back, and, along with the rabbit, they leapt onto the riverbank and crept past the abandoned Number 36A bus, and then up to the entrance.

  “Right,” whispered Stinkbomb. “Here’s the plan. We’ll sneak in, and rescue King Toothbrush Weasel, and sneak out again. If we see any badgers, it’s Clever Plan time. But we probably won’t meet anybody, because it’s an old deserted warehouse, so it’s deserted.” Quietly, he turned the handle and pushed the door.

  All the people inside who were standing near the door moved out of the way to let them in.

  “Hello!” said Mr. Neck. “After we talked to you, we thought we ought to tell some other people as well, and it turned out that everyone in the village wanted to come and help.”

  “Then why aren’t you helping?” asked Ketchup-Face.

  “Oh . . . Well,” said Mrs. Neck, “it actually looks rather interesting, and everyone’s decided to see what happens.”

  It did look interesting. At the far end of the vast room, the badgers had built a stage, and across the stage was a large curtain.

  “Well,” said Ketchup-Face, “I don’t care how interesting it is. If those badgers are doing it, it’s probably an evil and wicked doing. ’Scuse us! Magic Porcupine coming through!”

  “That’s not a Magic Porcupine,” complained somebody. “It’s a rabbit in a spiky coat!”

  The rabbit ignored him.

  Just then, the badgers appeared onstage. />
  “Ladies and gentlemen!” announced Harry the Badger. “Welcome to the end of the story! I know that most of you was probably expectin’ an ending in which we all get caught and sent back to prison, but that’d be boring . . .”

  “For us,” put in Rolf the Badger.

  “Yeah,” agreed Harry the Badger. “So we’ve thought up a much more excitin’ and interestin’ ending.”

  He pulled back the curtain, and everyone gasped; for there, tied to an enormous water rocket, was King Toothbrush Weasel.

  “Blimey O’Reilly!” said Blimey O’Reilly.

  “Gordon Bennett!” said Gordon Bennett.

  “My goodness!” said Maya Goodness.

  “Flippin’ ’eck!” said Phillippa Neck.

  “Oh dear!” said a roe deer.

  “How did that deer get in here?” asked an elephant; but everyone ignored it.

  “Stinkbomb,” whispered Ketchup-Face, “there’s an elephant in the room.”

  “Yes,” said Stinkbomb, “but apparently you’re not meant to talk about it. I’m not sure why.”

  “As you can see,” continued Harry the Badger, “we’ve made the biggest water rocket in the world, and we’ve tied King Toothbrush Weasel to it.

  It just needs one more pump to send it zooming out the window and far away.”

  He pointed at the big window at the back of the warehouse, in case anyone wasn’t sure what windows looked like. “Then, in the next story, with all the good guys out of the way, we’ll get to be the good guys.”

  “I still don’t think it works like that,” muttered Stewart the Badger unhappily.

  “But the good guys aren’t all out of the way, are they?” asked Samuel Neck.

  “Yes they are!” said Harry the Badger. “We’ve defeated King Toothbrush Weasel by tying him to a giant water rocket; and we’ve defeated Stinkbomb and Ketchup-Face by tying them up and throwing them in the river; and we’ve defeated the librarians by messing up all the books in the library so it’ll take them ages to put ’em all back in their proper places; and we’ve defeated the army by giving it a dish of cat food.”