War of the World Records (29 page)
Read War of the World Records Online
Authors: Matthew Ward
“He was a hard man to track down, your chef,” chuckled the sergeant, “but I am not without my connections in the underworld. Turns out the chap who played Lord Capulet when I was Mercutio now runs a sort of underground answering service and was able to get a series of messages to Mr. Smith for me. After I relayed to him the evidence condemning Mr. Goldwin, along with details of the case against Inspector Smudge, Mr. Smith kindly agreed to join me for my little production of âThe Big Reveal' this evening. Little did I know, he'd wind up risking his own life to help save you lot from an exploding stage!”
“Please, Sergeant,” said the chef, grinning bashfully. “It were all my pleasure, I assure you.”
Mr. Whipple's smile grew strained, then faded. He let out a low sigh. “I'm so sorry I ever doubted you, Sammy. It's absolutely inexcusable the way I've actedâand I can't say I don't deserve it if you never forgive me.”
Sammy the Spatula smiled. “It's all right, guv. I've missed you lot as well. And I know it weren't you who done me in. Noâthat were Smudge and that Goldwin dog, weren't it? And them two are all taken care of now, ain't they?”
At this, Mrs. Whipple ran in and wrapped her arms around the man. “Oh, we've been utterly lost without you, Sammy,” she cried. “I've been doing the cooking!”
“Well, that is ravver drastic, ain't it, Mrs. Whipple?” the chef said with a wink. “But you'll not 'ave to ever worry about that again, now I'm back. I've used me time in 'iding to write a cookbook filled wiv all sorts of new recipes for colossal cuisine. I can 'ardly wait to get back in me kitchen and start giving 'em a go!”
The Whipple children's faces all lit up.
“But before I run away wiv meself 'ere,” Sammy continued, “there's somefing I got to say.”
He turned and walked directly to Arthur and Ruby, who stood admiring the reunion from a few steps away. “Don't believe we've officially met, miss,” he said, offering his hand to Ruby. “Sammy the Spatula.”
“Ruby Goldwin,” she said, smiling.
“Pleasure,” said Sammy with a nod before turning to the boy beside her. “I knew I could count on you, Arfur. Greenley says you and your mate 'ere were the only ones 'oo still believed in ol' Sammy, even after everyfing what happened, eh?”
Arthur blushed, and Sammy's eyes grew watery.
“You are an extraordinary lad indeed,” sniffed the chef. “If you ever need anyfingâanyfing at allâjust say the word, mate. I owe you me bleedin' life, I do.”
He wiped his eyes and grinned. Then he held out his hand, and Arthur promptly shook it.
“It's good to have you back, Sammy,” said Arthur. “We'd have fought for you forever.” A smile crept onto the boy's face. “Though I can't say my mother's cooking had nothing to do with that.”
Everybody laughed.
“Fair enough, lad,” grinned the chef. “I've surely done far less admirable fings for the sake of me own stomach!”
When the laughter had died down, D.S. Greenley turned to Sammy and said, “Well, Mr. Smith, on behalf of Scotland Yard, allow me to formally apologize once again for your treatment over the past few months. You can rest assured Inspector Smudge will be held accountable for his actions. I sincerely hope you'll develop a better opinion of the Yard in future.”
“Most definitely, Sergeant,” Sammy replied. “You 'ave truly given me new faiff in the law.”
Greenley's eyes lit up. “Have I? Well, thank you for saying so. I do my best, of course, but it's hard to know sometimes if I'm really making a difference out there.”
“Absolutely,” Sammy insisted. “Keep up the good work, mate.”
“Indeed I will,” the detective said, grinning proudly. He took a deep contented breath, then turned to Arthur's father. “Now, Mr. Whipple, if you and your wife would just come with me for a moment so I can get a proper statement, we'll be done with all this mess and you can enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Of course, Sergeant.”
Arthur's parents followed the detective toward one of the parked squad cars, while the octuplets bombarded Sammy with questions about the perils of life in the underground.
Arthur turned to talk to Ruby for the first time since the award ceremony had begun. “Phew,” he exhaled. “Quite a day, hmm?”
“Yeah,” said Ruby, “I think that might be the World's Biggest Understatement.”
Arthur smiled. Over Ruby's shoulder, he then noticed a man with laser-parted hair striding toward them. In one hand, the man carried a neat stack of papers, which he pored over as he walked. In the other, he carried a moderately sized golden trophy.
“Ah, there you are, Arthur Whipple,” said Archibald Prim as the pair turned to face him. “Here is the trophy for your recent record, young manâdirectly from the engravers.” Then he handed him the trophy.
Arthur marveled at the weight of it. So this was what a world record felt like.
“Thank you, Mr. Prim,” he said.
“Yes,” replied the certifier. “I left as soon as the final award had been presented in order to fetch it for you. My apologies for the delay. So many items to check and recheck and check again, you understand.” He looked to his watch. “Yes, wellâI must be off. Next year's paperwork will not complete itself, now will it? I shall see you and your family tomorrow.” Mr. Prim peered over the children's heads for the first time. “Oh,” he said. “Is the theater on fire?”
“I'm afraid it is, Mr. Prim,” said Arthur.
“Well, who ever let that happen? I shall have to have a serious talk with the safety directorâhe is clearly in violation of his contract here!”
And with that, Archibald Prim stormed off in search of the man soon to be known as the
former
safety director.
Arthur's eyes followed the certifier as he departed.
“Kind of hard to believe, really,” said Arthur. “I'd have never imagined I'd receive my first world record because of
him
.”
“Life's funny that way, I think,” said Ruby. “Never works out quite how you'd expect.”
Arthur nodded.
Their gaze then fell on the trophy. Its mirrored finish and curved handles gave it a look not unlike a smaller sibling of the Championship Cup itself. Inscribed on the base below Arthur's name were the words:
HIGHEST
NUMBER
OF
UNSUCCESSFU
L
OFFICIAL
WORLD
REC
ORD
ATTEMPTS
(6,392).
“Shiny, isn't it?” said Ruby.
“Yeah,” Arthur agreed. “Somehow it's even better than any of the trophies I ever imagined . . . probably because it's
real
.”
Ruby smiled. “You've earned it, Arthur. Let me be first to congratulate you on what is sure to be the first in a vast collection of trophies with your name on them.”
Arthur flashed a smile, then turned to Ruby with an earnest expression. “Hey,” he said. “Thanks for saving my dad's life. And sorry about . . . you know, your family.”
“Oh . . . yeah,” said Ruby. “It's all right. At least I know the truth now. I mean, I've always suspected something wasn't quite rightâin a way, it's nice to find out I wasn't just losing my mind, you know? I think that's all I ever really wanted. . . . Well, maybe not
all
I ever wanted. It's going to be hard to accept the fact that my real family isn't out there waiting for me somewhere. But, you knowâ
mostly
all.”
“Well,” replied Arthur, “for what it's worthâI mean, I know it's not the same thingâbut there's a family waiting for you here now . . . if you want it.”
Ruby smiled. “Yes. I think I'd like that.”
Arthur smiled back. “Couldn't hurt to have a second junior detective on hand, what with all these mysteries that keep sprouting up around my family.” He scratched the side of his head. “You know, we never found out exactly how Rex became the new treasurer, did we?”
The sly sparkle returned to Ruby's eyes. “Consider it priority one for Detectives Whipple and Goldwin,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Now that we're no longer under constant attack by clown assassins, we should have a lot more time for detective work. If you're not too busy fending off all your new record breaker fans, of course.”
“Of course,” Arthur said with a smirk.
His parents returned a moment later to gather up their family and friends.
Wilhelm and Mr. Mahankali shared laughs with Sammy the Spatula, while Mrs. Waite stood looking on with tears in her eyes.
“Come on, Mrs. Waite,” Sammy said as he noticed her crying. “Dry your eyes, luv. No 'arm done. I'm back nowâand you and me 'ave the privilege of working for the Greatest Family in the World!”
“I know,” sniffled the housekeeper. “I'm just so . . . happy!” And with that, she burst into tears all over again.
“Ah, Mrs. Waite,” Sammy chuckled as he hugged her and patted her back. “There, there, luv.”
Everyone smiled at the housekeeper's unguarded outpouring, and some wiped away tears of their own.
Mr. Whipple took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Surely, it's been an emotional day for all of us; I'd say we deserve a bit of a treat, wouldn't you? So,” he announced, “in honor of Arthur's first world record and our subsequent championships victory, as well as to celebrate Sammy's freedomâand to apologize for hiring an immoral inspector who falsely accused him of sabotage, threw him in jail, and nearly had him shot and drownedâI've booked us the Myriad Room at P.T. Evermor's Infinite Spoon. They'll be expecting us shortly.”
“Yay!” cried the octuplets. (Home to the Largest and Most Diverse All-One-Can-Eat Smorgasbord on Earth, P.T. Evermor's had long been the Whipple children's favorite restaurant.)
Arthur's stomach grumbled with joy. After a day of foiling kidnappers, escaping lethal lizards, surviving explosions, and breaking world records, he had worked up quite an appetite.
â¢Â â¢Â â¢
The Whipples returned home well after midnight, having had more than their fill of food, drink, and all-around merriment.
Cordelia lent Ruby a set of her nightclothes and showed her to one of the guest rooms, where Arthur and his family bid each other a most joyous goodnight, then retired to their respective bedchambers.
Once in his room, Arthur placed his new trophy on the bedside table, changed into his pajamas, and got into bed. He took a long, disbelieving look at the golden statue beside him, then switched off the lamp.
For several minutes he simply lay in the dark, smiling.
And then, Arthur Whipple slept the best sleep of his life.
The Day After Yesterday
WHIPPLES WIN!
AT WRWC AWARDS CEREMONY, WHIPPLES DEFEAT ARTIFICIALLY CONSTRUCTED SUPER FAMILY, SURVIVE EXPLOSIVE REVENGE PLOT, DELIVER MATERNITY WARD MARAUDERS TO AUTHORITIESâALL THANKS TO PREVIOUSLY RECORDLESS SON
The Whipple family celebrated their fourth consecutive win at the World Record World Championships Sunday nightâbut it was almost not to be.
The Championship Cup had been universally expected to go to the Goldwin family, until it was revealed the Whipples' then-recordless son, Arthur, had managed to break the record for Highest Number of Unsuccessful Official World Record Attempts in the competition's final event.
It was during the Whipples' acceptance of the top prize that a series of explosions destroyed much of the stage and hurled the theater into chaos.
Luckily, the alleged saboteurâpublicly concealed son of the Goldwins Rayford Goldwinâwas identified and detained before any more explosives could be detonated, and no one was killed in the blast.
Soon afterward, the suspect's father, Rex Goldwin, fired a pistol shot at the stage, just missing Charles Whippleâand was promptly apprehended himself.
Shockingly, Goldwin and his wife, Rita, were then charged with the kidnapping of nine newborn children over the past seventeen yearsârevealing the couple to be the fugitives commonly known as the Maternity Ward Marauders.
The stolen children, selected for their perfect scores on the Igor Test (which assigns a numerical value to the quality of each body part in a newborn), were then raised as the Goldwins' own. The abductees would ultimately account for three-quarters of the Goldwin brood, making the Whipples' victory even more remarkable, considering the hand-picked nature of their rivals.
It was Scotland Yard's Detective Sergeant Callum Greenley who uncovered the plot and made the arrests.
“It's a relief to see the curtain finally close on this case,” said Greenley. “Of course, it was hardly a one-man show. There were many players involved in reaching this finale and I am proud to have played but a supporting role. I can only hope my supporting role as Raffers in the Little Orb's production of
East End Tale
goes half as well.”
As to the involvement of the Ardmore Association in the Goldwins' plot, Greenley added, “That investigation is ongoing. I can only say we suspect the Association had some part to play in all thisâand that we've reason to believe Mr. Goldwin has in fact been on the Ardmore Board of Directors for many years, succeeding the deceased Bartholomew Niven as their new treasurer. Indeed, Goldwin is currently the prime suspect in Niven's murder, given his clear motive for the crime. Due to the board's highly secretive nature, this will not be an easy inquiry to makeâbut we shall continue to pursue it for as long as it takes to uncover the truth.”
Malcolm Boyle, chief legal representative for the Ardmore Association, was quick to deny any such collaboration on the part of his clients.
“The Ardmore Association is shocked and appalled to hear of the purported actions of Mr. Goldwin and his accomplices. Though it's true the Association has served as the Goldwins' sponsor, it has never had any knowledge of their alleged criminal pursuitsânor has Mr. Goldwin ever served on the Ardmore Board of Directors. These rumors are simply one more attempt by the Association's power-hungry rivals to tarnish the respectable Ardmore name.”
Titus Grazelby, head of the Grazelby Publications empire, is one man, however, who finds it difficult to believe anything coming from the Ardmore publicity machine.
I trust Mr. Boyle about as far as I can throw himâwhich is from here to that plate glass window there, if he actually had the nerve to stand in the same room with me. No, I'd not be surprised at all if this Rex Goldwin villain was on their board of directors. The Ardmore Association has beenâand always will beâa corrupt organization.But enough talk about Ardmore. They're the losers here; tonight is all about the Whipples.
“Charles Whipple and his clan have won a fantastic victory today,” Grazelby continued, “for themselves and for the entire Grazelby Publications family. Of course, I must send a special note of gratitude to Arthur Whipple, whose spirit and determination won the day for us. Naturally, a full profile of the Whipples' newest record breaker, as well as a detailed report on this year's championships will all be included in the new volume of
Grazelby's Guide to World Records and Fantastic Feats
âon shelves this November.”
Grazelby is clearly not alone in his appraisal of the Whipples' achievement. Following news of the family's stunning victory Sunday night, shares of Grazelby Publications (GRAP) promptly hit an all-time high Monday morning. The Whipples, holding one-third of the company's shares, are set to see their personal fortune more than double by the close of market Monday.
But besides the thrill of victory and the massive payday, the members of the Whipple family have another thing to celebrate: their very lives.
With the Goldwins' incarceration, the Whipples have seemingly survived another chapter in the saga of the Lyon's Curseâa fanciful term given to the string of tragedies that has followed the family ever since rival record breaker Gregory Lyon was killed competing against Charles's father, some thirty years ago.
But with this last spate of violence, could the curse that claimed Charles Sr.'s life finally be over? Only time will tell. For now, the Whipples seem perfectly content living in the present.
“Today marks the start of a new era for the Whipple family,” stated Charles Whipple, “an era in which character comes before accomplishment, and people are prized above plaques. Of course, it should always have been this way; I am sorry I did not realize it sooner. But then, it is only because of my son Arthur that I have realized it at all.”
Arthur Whipple, hero to the Record-Breakingest Family on Earthâand rising star to the world, had this to say about his sudden success:
“Umâwow. Yeah. IâI can't believe it. I mean, yeah. Wow.”
Considering the circumstances of his triumph, truer words may never have been said.
For one boy at least, a new era has certainly begun.
â¢Â â¢Â â¢
Arthur woke to find the first rays of sunrise shimmering through his window, filling his room with a bright natural glow.
When he'd convinced himself the events of the prior evening had not simply been a dream, an involuntary grin formed across his face. This was the dawn of his new life as a world-record holder; more importantly, it was the first morning he had woken up feeling truly at home.
Arthur stretched his arms and yawned a deep, satisfying yawn. He cast off his covers and rose from the bed, then headed to the wardrobe. He paused a moment before the mirror to examine his reflection.
There
was the same clump of light brown hair sticking stubbornly out from the side of his head;
there
were the same spindly armsâand yet, there was something decidedly different about the boy in the mirror this morning. Something lighter, less burdenedâsomething clearer.
His very surroundings, it seemed, had changed as well. Overnight, the world had become a brighter, better place, in which absolutely anything was possible. He could hardly wait to get started on world record number two.
Arthur began sliding an arm through the sleeve of his robe when his nose was struck by the spicy scent of sausage.
Sammy!
he thought and ran to the window.
Sure enough, there on the outdoor breakfast table lay the World's Largest Sausage Linkâand beside it, an industrial cement mixer filled with what appeared to be the Largest Batch of Eggs Ever Scrambled.
For one terrifying moment, Arthur feared he'd somehow slept through the breakfast bellâbut he promptly realized that nobody else had arrived at the table either.
What's everybody waiting for?
he thought to himself.
Surely, we've been deprived of Sammy the Spatula's colossal cuisine long enough. Let's eat!
He slipped the other arm into its sleeve, grabbed his new trophy off the nightstand, and darted for the door.
As soon as he had crossed the threshold, however, Arthur was forced to a halt by a wall of people.
There, in a semicircle around his doorway, stood his parents and the octuplets, as well as Simon, Cordelia, and Henry. Ruby stood with Wilhelm to their left, rubbing her half-closed eyes with the back of her hand.
All of them, Arthur realized, were wearing party hats.
“Good morning, Arthur,” said Mr. Whipple with a smile.
“Oh,” Arthur started. “Good morning.”
“And how is our newest world-record breaker today? You've slept well, have you?”
“Very well, thank you. I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting.” He looked again at the party hats. “Have I forgotten a holiday or something? It's not Haberdashery Day already, is it?”
“No indeed, my boy. Why, today belongs to you.”
“Oh. It does?” Arthur scratched his cheek. “How exactly have I come to possess it?”
“Last night,” his father explained, “it occurred to your mother and me that, in the matter of birthday parties, you have been rather shortchangedânine of them in all you've missed, by my countâand now, we mean to remedy that. Starting tonight, you'll be having a birthday party every day for the next nine days. You decide the theme for each, select the food, invite whomever you like. And henceforth you will have a birthday party every yearânot just in leap years. Do you find the terms acceptable?”
Arthur could hardly speak. Before his throat closed up altogether, he managed to say, feebly, “Quite acceptable, sir.”
“Good,” said Arthur's father.
He removed a foil-and-paper crown from behind his back and proceeded to place it on his son's head. “Arthur,” he said, “for the next week and two days, I hereby pronounce you Birthday King of All Christendomâand us, your loyal subjects.”
At that, everyone bowed low, leaving Arthur to stand and marvel. In his wildest dreams, he had never imagined this.
After a few moments, everyone straightened up again, and Mr. Whipple said, “Now, we shall begin planning the first of your parties out at the garden table. To kick off the Arthur Whipple Birthday Party Extravaganza, Sammy's made a special breakfast in your honor. But before we commence with the celebrations, there's one last order of business that needs tending. So, if you would all follow me downstairs please. . . .”
Mr. Whipple turned, and the others followed.
At the stairway, Ruby filed in alongside Arthur. “Happy first birthday,” she said. “I must say, you seem surprisingly capable for a one-year-old.”
“I'm glad you think so. It's not easy feeling twelve times your actual age, you know.”
Ruby smiled, then rubbed her eyes again. “So I take it people don't sleep in around here either,” she yawned. “Perfect. I escape one loony bin only to end up in another. . . . Heyâperhaps you could use your authority as Birthday King to set the alarm clocks a few hours forward, eh?”
“Listen to youâI've been Birthday King for all of thirty seconds, and you're already trying to corrupt my power. Some royal advisor you'll make,” Arthur grinned. “But honestly, why would you ever want to sleep in, when there are so many amazing things to be done in this world?”
The girl looked skeptical.
“You'll see,” said Arthur. “You're with the Whipples now. We'll make a morning person of you yet.”
Ruby bulged her eyes and shook her head. “Loony bin,” she whispered.
The party wound its way through the house, its destination soon becoming clear. Upon reaching the entrance to the Whipple Hall of World Records, Arthur's father heaved open the massive wooden doors and ushered the group inside.
Arthur filed in with Ruby and his siblings, staring in awe at the enormous wall of trophies and plaques before him. For as long as he could remember, he had gazed up at that wall dreaming of the day when he'd finally find a place of his own there. And now, it seemed, that day had arrived.
Mr. Whipple closed the giant doors behind him and strode to the center of the wall.
“The Great Wall of Whipple,” he said reverently. “The place where all our greatest accomplishments are displayedâfor the pride of this family and the respect of the world. All the Whipples are represented here. . . .” He paused and turned to look Arthur in the eye. “All, of course, but one. Indeed, there is one name missing from this wall: the name of Arthur Whipple.”
Arthur's siblings patted his back and mussed his hair, while Arthur grinned bashfully and glanced to the ground. This was the moment he'd waited for all his life.
Mr. Whipple continued. “I have long dreamt of the day when our wall would at last be completeâwhen all our names could finally be written upon it. . . . And yet, in spite of recent events, I'm afraid it will have to do without Arthur's name for a while longer.”