Bumageddon: The Final Pongflict (8 page)

‘No, it isn't!' said Zack's bum.

‘'Tis!' said the bum.

‘'Tisn't!' said Zack's bum.

‘Stop it, both of you!' said Eleanor. ‘We've got more important things to do than to listen to your squabbling.' She turned to the small bum. ‘Look,' she
said. ‘I don't know who you are or where you're from—we can deal with that later—but right now we are on a very important mission and you have to help us.'

‘I've already helped you,' said the bum huffily. ‘And I think I'm beginning to regret it.'

‘Sorry,' said Eleanor. ‘I'm a bit on edge. It's been a busy day.'

‘You're telling me,' said the bum. ‘I was woken first thing by an enormous explosion. I went to investigate and would you believe it? It was a Great White Bumosaur! Just fell out of the sky!'

‘You saw the Great White Bum?' said Zack.

‘I saw
a
Great White Bumosaur,' said the bum.

‘Was anybody else with it?' said Eleanor.

‘Not that I saw,' said the bum. ‘No “body”, anyway. But there have been an awful lot of blowflies around this morning. Big ones, too. Disgusting things. Flying around vomiting over everything.'

‘We've noticed,' said Eleanor. ‘Where's the Great White Bumosaur now?'

The bum shrugged. ‘I don't know. On its way to the Crack of Doom, I guess.'

‘The Crack of Doom?' said Eleanor.

‘Yes,' said the bum. ‘It's where the Great White Bumosaurs breed. I expect it will be looking for its own kind. It's no fun being alone, you know.'

As they talked they could hear the tricerabutt snuffling around, hunting for them. In the distance the tyrannosore-arses screeched and hooted. The drone of giant mutant zombie blowflies filled the late afternoon air.

‘How far away is this Crack of Doom?' said Eleanor.

‘It's about three hours north of here,' said the bum.

‘Can you take us there?' said Eleanor.

‘I could,' said the bum, ‘but you don't want to go there.'

‘Yes, we do,' said Zack's bum.

‘No, you don't,' said the bum.

‘Do!' said Zack's bum.

‘Don't!' said the bum.

‘Knock it off,' said Zack to his bum. ‘You're not helping.'

‘I didn't start it,' said Zack's bum.

‘Yes, you did!' said the bum.

‘No, I didn't!' said Zack's bum.

‘Will you take us there or not?' said Eleanor loudly.

‘You've got to be joking!' said the bum. ‘It's unbelievably dangerous. There are bumcanoes, giant stinkants, stinkbogs, chasms and every type of bumosaur you can imagine between here and the Crack of Doom.'

‘How soon can we start?' said Eleanor. ‘We're in kind of a hurry.'

‘B
ut you don't seem to understand,' said the bum nervously. ‘Not even the most desperate of fools
would undertake such a dangerous journey with so little chance of success.'

‘We
are
desperate,' said Zack. ‘The Great White Bum is planning to send all the Great White Bumosaurs into the future, where they will completely destroy the Earth. We've already seen the results. Total destruction. Of everything. Bumageddon!'

‘Bumageddon?' whispered the bum.

‘B
umageddon,' said Eleanor, nodding.

‘Bumageddon,' said Ned.

‘Bumageddon,' said Zack's bum.

‘Bumageddon,' said Zack. ‘And you are our only hope of stopping it.'

The bum nodded solemnly. ‘I understand,' it said. ‘If that's the case, and you're sure that's where you need to go, then I'll be your guide. But you have to do exactly as I say, agreed?'

The bum-fighters all nodded.

All the bum-fighters, that is, except for Zack's bum.

Zack prodded it.

‘Okay,' it mumbled reluctantly.

T
hey set off with the small bum leading the way and Zack's bum bringing up the rear.

The harsh sounds—and horrible smells—of strange bumosaurs filled the air. As they walked Zack used a large branch to swat away a giant mutant zombie blowfly that was circling his head.

‘Hurry up,' said Zack to his bum. ‘I don't want to get too far behind.'

‘I
am
hurrying,' said his bum.

The giant mutant zombie blowfly swooped in again, almost knocking Zack over.

Zack poked it in the eye with the branch.

Hard.

So hard, in fact, that black jelly spurted out all over him. ‘Gross!' said Zack, jumping backwards as the giant mutant zombie blowfly buzzed angrily and flew away.

Zack hated giant mutant zombie blowflies. Almost as much as he hated the Great White Bum.

‘Zack!' whispered his bum.

‘What is it?' said Zack, stopping to wipe large handfuls of the zombie blowfly's gooey eyeball slime off his clothes.

‘Don't you think it's kind of strange that a bum would choose to live out here all by itself?'

Zack—whose sense of what was strange had in the
past few months undergone a similar expansion to his sense of what was dangerous—shrugged. ‘But it didn't choose to live here,' he said, warily watching for the zombie blowfly's return. ‘It was sucked into a brown hole.'

‘So it says,' said his bum. ‘But it could be lying. It could be leading us into some sort of trap. It could be working for the Great White Bumosaurs. We could be sacrifices!'

‘Good theory,' said Zack. ‘But you're forgetting one thing. We
asked
it to take us to the Crack of Doom. And it tried to talk us out of it.'

‘I don't like it,' muttered Zack's bum. ‘I don't like it at all . . .'

‘Relax,' said Zack. ‘It's harmless. And, you've got to admit, kind of cute.'

‘Cute!?' said Zack's bum, flushing red. ‘Are you kidding?'

‘Are you blushing?' said Zack.

‘As if,' said Zack's bum, flushing even redder.

‘You
are
blushing!' said Zack. ‘You know what I think?'

‘No,' said Zack's bum, ‘and I'm not interested.'

But Zack was on a roll. ‘I think,' he said, ‘I think you like . . .'

‘ZACK!' yelled his bum. ‘Watch out!'

Z
ack froze before he could finish the sentence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark shape lunging towards him. At first he thought it was the zombie blowfly returning, but then he noticed that it was the wrong colour.

It was brown.

With big teeth.

And bad breath.

And an even worse temper.

CHOMP!

The brown monster's jaws snapped down hard just a few millimetres short of Zack's nose. The stench of its breath brought tears to Zack's eyes. Before he could do anything, however, the brown monster reared back and lunged forwards for another bite.

Zack stared.

It was ugly.
Really
ugly. It had two tiny black eyes and an enormous mouth. Its chunky brown skin was cracked like dried-out mud.

It struck again.

Zack threw himself face first onto the ground.

Again, the monster's teeth closed on air.

The others were too far ahead to be of any help.

‘Well, don't just stand there!' Zack yelled at his terrified bum. ‘Do something!'

‘What?' said Zack's bum.

‘Anything!' said Zack.

Zack's bum began to dance. ‘You put your left hand in, you put your left hand out . . .' it sang.

‘Anything
but
the hokey pokey!' yelled Zack, as he watched the enormous brown serpent-like creature rearing back for a third attack.

Zack's bum picked up a stick and, using it as a cane, began a rudimentary tap dance.

‘Not
that,
either!' said Zack's bum.

‘But I don't know any other dances!' said Zack's bum.

The monster hurled itself forwards.

Zack, reeling under the withering blast of its breath, rolled over onto his back and prepared to kick it.

But there was nothing to kick.

It was all mouth.

Just as the brown monster was about to engulf Zack, however, their guide bum appeared.

It bent over, took aim and fired.

The monster's head snapped backwards. With a yelp it withdrew back into the jungle as quickly and mysteriously as it had emerged.

Zack sat up, blinking. ‘Thanks,' he said.

‘Are you all right?' said the bum.

‘I think so,' said Zack. ‘What
was
that?'

‘A poopasaur,' it said. ‘There are a lot of them about this year.'

‘A poopasaur?' said Zack.

‘ “Big, lumbering and deadly”,' said Ned, reading from his book as he rushed towards them. ‘ “Lives in bumnut-tree forests. Prone to jumping out from undergrowth unexpectedly”.'

‘Gee, lucky you brought that book, Ned,' said Zack, shaking his head. ‘I never would have guessed otherwise.'

‘Just trying to be helpful,' said Ned.

‘Keep your eyes open, everybody,' announced their guide. ‘This is a dangerous place.'

As they resumed walking, Zack's bum tapped Zack on the leg.

‘That was no accident, Zack,' it said. ‘It's trying to kill us.'

‘How do you figure that out?' said Zack. ‘That bum just saved me from a poopasaur. Which is more than I can say for you!'

Zack's bum reddened. ‘Yeah, well, how come it didn't say anything about poopasaurs before?'

‘It tried to convince us that it was too dangerous to go to the Crack of Doom in the first place,' said Zack.

‘But it didn't warn us about poopasaurs!' said Zack's bum. ‘Not specifically.'

‘Well, no,' said Zack. ‘But . . .'

‘See what I mean?' said his bum. ‘This is not a bum to be trusted.'

Zack shrugged. ‘We don't have much choice,' he said.

T
hat night the three bum-fighters and two bums sat around a small campfire. Long, low poopasaur mating calls filled the air.

Zack looked up into the blackness and marvelled at the awesome wash of stars above them. It was all so beautiful, he thought. It was hard to believe that a life-on-Earth-destroying arseteroid could come out of such a sky. But it was definitely coming. And soon.

Ned and Eleanor were roasting bumnuts the size of baseballs. ‘These are much bigger than the bumnuts back home,' said Ned, spitting out small pieces of the woody nut as he spoke.

‘I know,' said their guide. ‘Bumolution is not always for the better.'

‘You can say that again,' said Zack's bum. ‘Bums would have been so much better off without heads messing things up.'

Zack ignored his bum's remark and turned to their guide. ‘So, how did you come to be here, exactly?' said Zack. ‘I know you got sucked into a brown hole, but what were you doing out in space to begin with?'

‘Well,' said the bum, staring into the fire, ‘it's a sad story. I used to have an owner. A really good one. She took care of me. Clothed me. Wiped me. Even let me watch television occasionally. She was the best owner a bum could ever want. But then one day I woke
up and she wasn't there. I wasn't in her bed. I was in a rubbish bin. I'd been cut loose. Discarded. Abandoned.'

‘Zack would never do that to
me,
' said Zack's bum. ‘Would you, Zack?'

Zack raised his eyebrows. ‘Wouldn't I?' he said.

Zack's bum ignored Zack. ‘You must have done something pretty bad,' it said to the other bum.

‘I never did anything!' said the bum. ‘At first I thought there must have been some mistake—some terrible misunderstanding. Had I not done everything I could to be a good and faithful bum? Had I not fulfilled my half of the charter between a bum and its owner? I searched and searched for her but, alas, it was in vain. She had simply disappeared. Vanished.'

‘That's too bad,' said Ned quietly.

Zack noticed that Eleanor was staring intently at the small bum through the smoke.

He supposed the bum's story couldn't have been easy for her to listen to. He knew how much she regretted her decision to cut her own bum loose all those years ago. Back then it had been a routine procedure for bum-fighters to replace their bums with false ones. No bum-fighter wanted to have their bum-fighting ability compromised by a bum that might not be completely loyal. But that was before she'd seen Zack and his bum in action—before she'd realised what a powerful team a bum and its owner could really be.

The small pink bum wiped a tear from its cheek.

‘So, what did you do then?' Zack asked the bum gently.

‘I kept looking,' it said. ‘I wandered the solar
system searching for her. I would have kept searching, too, but I got sucked into the brown hole and deposited here, with no way of getting back. But to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I'd
want
to go back, even if I could. I can be lonely here just as well as there. Besides, I'm not sure I'd recognise my owner now even if I did see her again. She was a little girl, then—she'd be quite grown up by now.'

The bum fell silent.

The fire glowed low.

Something screeched in the distance.

It was the saddest story that Zack had ever heard.

Ned and Eleanor were both wiping their eyes.

Even Zack's bum was choked up. ‘Do you have a tissue, Zack?' it whispered.

‘Sure,' said Zack, pulling a tissue from his pocket and handing it to his bum.

‘I hope you find your owner some day,' said Zack.

The bum shrugged. ‘Thanks,' it said. ‘You're nice. You don't need a spare, do you?'

Zack's bum bristled. ‘No, he's pretty right for the moment, thanks,' it said.