Mr Gum and the Goblins (6 page)

‘This looks like trouble,' Friday gulped. ‘Shall we blow the Horn of Q'zaal Q'zaal?'

‘Nah, we only gets one go at that,' said Polly. ‘I reckon we can handle this one.'

Bravely she stepped forward.

‘Your name is Arthur the Troll,' said Polly. ‘An' don't lie cos I know it is! Now yangle off, hairy!'

‘Lucky guess,' muttered Arthur the Troll as he yangled off. ‘I'm going to the gym.'

‘NO WAY!'
shouted the Goblin King in disbelief. ‘Somehow them meddlers got past the troll!'

‘Don't you worry,' laughed B.W. ‘It's the witch next! That'll muck 'em up!'

 

Down on the mountain a secret door in a rock opened with a scary creaking sound and a witch came out, hobbling along with her little bent back and leaning on a cane.

‘I'm gonna do spells on you!' she cackled. ‘Yes, that's right – spells! I'm gonna muck you up!'

‘Did you hear that?' said Friday in fright. ‘Spells!'

‘Quick!' said Polly. ‘Blow the Horn of Q'zaal – hold on a moment! She's not gettin' nowhere near us!'

It was true. The witch was moving along at about one centimetre a minute. As the travellers watched, she was overtaken by a dead snail.

‘When I get near enough I'm gonna do spells!' called the witch, brandishing her cane. ‘Then you'll be sorry! Spells!'

Friday and Polly looked at each other.

‘Shall we escape now or later?' said Friday.

‘Later,' said Polly. ‘After supper.'

So Friday fetched some sticks to start a fire, and Polly took out the pies and some apples, and they made a fine meal. And all the while the witch inched along, occasionally calling out her threats.

After they had eaten, the travellers sat and talked awhile. Then they played a few games of backgammon, and after that they did a 10,000
piece jigsaw puzzle. Altogether it was a very jolly time but eventually Friday stood up.

‘Well, we'd better hurry off or the witch will catch us in a few hours,' he said. So up Polly got and together they continued on their way.

‘Just you wait 'til I'm close enough to do my spells!' the witch called after them, shaking her fist very slowly. Moss was growing on her shoes. ‘Then you'll be sorry!'

‘UNBELIEVABLE!'
screamed the Goblin King, staring into the telescope. ‘Somehow them meddlers beat the witch an' all!'

‘True,' admitted B.W. ‘But they'll never survive the final challenge.'

‘What, that thing that looks like a gherkin?' sneered the Goblin King. ‘Come off it, he's the easiest one of the lot.'

 

Down on the mountain, the thing that looked like a gherkin rolled menacingly towards the travellers. Friday stepped on it with his boot and they continued on their way.

‘FRIMP!'
shouted the Goblin King. ‘If you ask me, them Impossible Challenges is a load of old toilet. Hoi! Captain Ankles!' he called – and instantly the Goblin Captain appeared, accompanied by his faithful Lieutenant, Oink Balloon.

‘Now, listen, Ankles,' said the Goblin King. ‘I wants you to go an' capture some meddlers for me. It's a big important job, right, so take yer best soldiers with you. Take Wippy, Livermonk,
Big Steve, Funk-Whistle, Soupdog, Jingles and Yak Triangle. An' don't you let me down, Ankles, or I'll introduce you to me bashin' fist!'

Once he'd dealt with that, the Goblin King turned to more important matters.

‘Oi, Burger Wizard, where's me supper?' he demanded.

‘Right here, me old balaclava,' laughed B.W., holding up a plate of greenish meat and thistles.

And there in the cave the two ruffians dined
on their slops like common swine, while all around the goblins shrieked and hooted and roared.

‘Ha ha ha!' laughed the Goblin King through a mouthful of pig's bladder. ‘This is the life!'

A
s night fell, the travellers were making camp. Polly lit a fire and Friday found a wild rabbit to cook, which was lucky because he was too tired to cook for himself. The rabbit whipped up some omelettes while the travellers gazed out over the mountainside into the vast, starry night.

Far below, the lights of Lamonic Bibber twinkled welcomingly. The houses looked warm and inviting, and Polly imagined she could hear the happy laughter of children coming from within. In the middle of town a plume of blue smoke was just visible. It was coming from Martin Launderette's
VERY SECRET INVENTION,
the
Ripple-izer 2000
.

Gazing over the scene, Polly felt tears well up in her eyes, not just because the rabbit was
peeling an onion, but because she realised how much she loved Lamonic Bibber, every last bit of it.

‘I loves that town,' she said fiercely, and her heart swelled with pride as she spoke. ‘It's the best place in the world an' I don't never wants to live nowhere else, that's all I got to say on the subject, the end.'

‘Well said, Polly,' nodded Friday. He himself felt a little homesick for his secret cottage in
the woods and a nice Sunday roast and sitting on Mrs Lovely's lap, eating yogurts. ‘Tell you what,' he said, taking out his grand piano. ‘This is the perfect moment for a song. I've a new one I've been working on. It's called “Me And Uncle Radish”.

‘Shh,' whispered Polly urgently, putting out the fire with a mug of water. ‘I think I done heard somethin' a-creepin' in the bushes.'

Polly and Friday huddled together, trembling in the darkness. After a minute the rabbit joined them, twitching its whiskers like a total wurly. And now they could all hear the noises – strange hisses and creaks and moans. And then they heard a twig snap. Then another snapped – and then another.

And then the moon it did come out from behind a cloud, and in its silvery light the travellers saw the game was up. For they were completely surrounded by goblins, standing there snapping twigs in their bumpy old hands.

‘GETT THEMM!'
commanded Captain Ankles and at this the goblins advanced, eyes wide and claws glinting wickedly.

‘The poor rabbit!' cried Polly. ‘This isn't no place for you, little one,' she said, scooping it up in her arms and carrying it to a safe place
underneath a bush. You see, that was just the sort of girl Polly was – she always looked out for people smaller than herself, especially if they were rabbits.

‘Right,' said Friday. ‘Now leave the rest to me!' And he reached for his broadsword, the legendary
LORD CHAMPION.
It was made from the strongest steel known to man and it shone like a Flaming Star of Justice and nothing could defeat it in battle and it was lying on Friday's sofa in his secret cottage next to an empty yogurt pot.

‘Brummigans!' cursed Friday. ‘Forgot the broadsword.' But then he had an idea.