Sorrel Anderson - The Clumsies make a Mess of the Big Show

‘TEN TWENTY ONE,’ it said. ‘TEN TWENTY TWO.’

‘Hello,’ said Purvis.

CLACK! rattled the trolley.

‘Eep,’ said Mickey Thompson, ducking behind Purvis.

‘Ten twenty seven.’

‘What is?’ asked Purvis.

‘The amount I’m behind schedule,’ said the trolley.

‘Ah,’ said Purvis. ‘I see.’

‘TEN THIRTY THREE. What are they doing in there?’

‘Having a cup of tea,’ said Purvis.

CLATTER! went the trolley.

‘Because of the boxes,’ Purvis explained.

‘ Forty one !’ said the trolley, tetchily. ‘Four five six seven nine.’

‘I think you might be speeding up a little,’ said Purvis.

CLACK! went the trolley, juddering.‘ I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE, FIFTY TWO: LOOK WHO’s COMING.’

It was Mr Bullerton, Howard’s boss, steaming up the corridor towards them.

‘Eeeeep!’ went the mice, darting under the trolley just in time as Mr Bullerton arrived.

CLAtter! went the trolley, as Mr Bullerton kicked it.

‘WHAT’S THIS THING DOING OUT HERE?’ he bellowed.

C L A T T E R !

went the cups, as Mr Bullerton entered Howard’s room,where Howard and the postman were drinking tea.

‘AND WHAT’S GOING ON IN HERE? Or NOT, to be precise. Well?’

‘Oh, ah,’ said Howard. ‘Mr Bullerton! We were just. . . err. . . ’

‘Having a cup of tea?’ suggested Mr Bullerton.

‘Exactly,’ said Howard.

‘How nice,’ said Mr Bullerton, kicking one of the boxes. ‘And did you get those boxes I sent you?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Howard.

‘Oh good,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘And have you finished the work yet?’

‘Oh. No,’ said Howard.

‘Oh dear,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘And have you started the work yet?’

‘Well, no,’ said Howard.

‘I see,’ said Mr Bullerton, going close. ‘Howard Armitage,’ he said, breathing heavily.

‘Hello,’ said Howard.

‘I do not pay you to sit there saying “oh”.’

‘No,’ agreed Howard.

‘And I do not pay you to sit there drinking tea.’

‘Mm,’ agreed Howard.

‘I wonder,’ said Mr Bullerton, sounding interested, ‘what it is you think I do pay you to do?’

‘Work,’ said Howard. ‘Ha ha. Of course.’

‘NO!’ bellowed Mr Bullerton. ‘What I pay you to do is to DO WHAT I TELL YOU TO DO.’

‘Oh! I mean, yes,’ said Howard.

‘Yes, oh yes,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘So just you wait. And in the meantime, I want you to brighten yourself up a bit. Where ’s your Christmas spirit? Eh?’

‘Err. . . ’ said Howard. ‘I think I used it all up over Christmas.’

‘Well GET IT BACK AGAIN,’ shouted Mr Bullerton.

‘I’ll do my best,’ said Howard.

‘Ppffh,’ snorted Mr Bullerton, and left.

‘Best be off then,’ said the postman, cheerfully.

‘One for the road?’ offered Howard, filling the kettle.

‘Ooh, go on then,’ said the postman.

CLATTER! went the trolley, out in the corridor. ‘I’m not standing around here all day while he guzzles tea. Ten. Nine.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Purvis.

‘What’s it doing?’ hissed Mickey Thompson.

‘FIVE-FOUR-THREE-TWO-ONE,’ said the trolley. ‘RIGHT, I’M OFF.’ It gave a lurch and started to trundle up the corridor.

‘Come on,’ said Purvis, hopping on to the bottom shelf.

‘Wait for me!’ said Mickey Thompson,

leaping,

and missing.

‘Here,’ said Purvis, reaching.

‘Yikes,’ said Mickey Thompson, running.

‘Hup,’ said Purvis, grabbing.

‘HELP! said Mickey Thompson, d a n g l i n g.

CLATTER!

went the trolley, jerking to a halt. ‘You,’ it said.

‘Meep,’ peeped Mickey Thompson.

‘If you’re getting on, kindly get on. If you’re not getting on, kindly get off. One or the other: not both.’

Mickey Thompson got on.

‘All aboard, fifty-two?’ said the trolley.

‘All aboard,’ said Purvis, and the trolley clacketty-rattled off up the corridor.

‘Phew,’ said Mickey Thompson.

‘He’s a one, isn’t he?’ whispered Purvis.

‘Hmph,’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Of course,’ said Purvis.

‘Only we seem to be going quite fast,’ said Mickey Thompson.

CRACK! went the trolley, clattering around a corner.

‘It’s fine,’ said Purvis.

CLACK! went the trolley, clattering around another corner.

‘PURVIS!’ shoutedMickey Thompson.

‘HOLD ON!’

shouted

Purvis.

‘THREE TWELVETY TEN!’

shouted the trolley, as they barrelled down a corridor.

‘NOTHINGY NINE SIX!’

‘What’s the matter with it?’ said Mickey Thompson.

‘I think it’s over-excited,’ said Purvis. ‘I’ll see if I can have a word.’

He crept to the edge of the shelf and peered out.

‘Err, excuse me,’ called Purvis.

‘SEVENTY MILLIONTY NOTHINGY NOUGHT ONE!’

‘Hello?’ called Purvis.

‘FIFFERTYFIFFERTYTWOOOOOOOOOOOO?’ hooted the trolley.

‘Yes, it’s me,’ said Purvis. ‘Err, we were just wondering. . . ’

‘WHAT?’ shouted the trolley.

‘When’s the next stop, please?’ asked Purvis.

‘FIVE TWO FIVE TWO FIVE TWO FIVE TWO FIVE!’ shouted the trolley.

Purvis went back in.

‘It’s no good,’ he said. ‘He’s gone bonkers.’

‘What are we going to do?’ wailed Mickey Thompson.

‘I’m thinking,’ said Purvis.

‘Think faster,’ said Mickey Thompson.

‘WHA-OOO!’ yelled the trolley, hurtling.

‘I’M ON FIRE!’

‘WHAT?!’ shrieked Mickey Thompson.

‘Oh, shoosh,’ said Purvis. ‘It’s just a figure of speech.’

‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ said Mickey Thompson.

‘DON’T YOU BE SICK IN ME,’shouted the trolley, crashing through some swing doors.

‘STAIRS OR LIFT, FIFTY TWO?’

‘LIFT!’ yelledPurvis.

‘HERE WE COME,’ shoutedthe trolley. ‘OPEN UP, YOU!’

‘PING!’ went the lift, just in time. They shot inside and rattled to a halt.

‘Well, really,’ said the lift.

The mice ploppedout of the trolley and lay on the lift floor, puffing.

‘I’m fast, I am,’ said the trolley.

‘Where’s your postman?’ said the lift.

‘Never mind the postman,’ said the trolley.

‘Well you didn’t ought to go racketing around loose like that,’ said the lift. ‘You’ll cause an accident.’