Charlie and the War Against the Grannies (23 page)

‘Hils,' I said. ‘The Stinkly Wrinklys have arrived. Early.'

‘Affirmative.'

FIVE MINUTES LATER

BEHIND A BUSH AT NOBBY'S QUARRY

‘Enemy status report,' said Hils.

‘Approximately fifty Stinkly Wrinklys. Heavily armed. Angry.'

‘Continue gathering intelligence.'

FIVE MORE MINUTES LATER

STILL BEHIND A BUSH AT NOBBY'S QUARRY

‘Ready?' said Hils.

‘For what?'

‘To go to war.'

‘No,' I said.

Hils walked out from behind the bush.

I didn't follow her.

Then I followed her.

‘ATTENTION STINKLY WRINKLYS,' said Hils.

The Stinkly Wrinklys gave Hils their attention.

‘WHO IS YOUR CHAMPION?' said Hils.

The Skrink stepped forward.

‘YOU AND I SHALL FIGHT. ONE-ON-ONE. AGREED?'

The Skrink nodded.

‘THE WINNER OF OUR FIGHT WINS THE WAR. AGREED?'

The Skrink nodded.

‘Won't your taekwondo teacher be angry that you are about to taekwondo fight an old lady?' I said to Hils as she did all sorts of strangely-peaceful-looking-before-a-taekwondo-fight stretching exercises.

‘Negative. There are fives laws of taekwondo,' said Hils. ‘They are:

‘I shall observe the tenets of taekwondo.

‘I shall respect the instructors.

‘I shall never misuse taekwondo.

‘I shall be a champion of freedom and justice.

‘I shall build a more peaceful world.'

‘Isn't fighting an old lady breaking the law about not misusing taekwondo?' I said.

‘Perhaps, but by fighting her I am being a champion of freedom and justice and building a more peaceful world. So I'm breaking one law but keeping two.'

‘You should definitely fight her then,' I said. ‘Good luck.'

‘There is no such thing as good luck,' said Hils.

I think she meant to say ‘thank you' but was so nervous that she said something completely different.

Hils and The Skrink walked into the middle of Nobby's Quarry. They stood face-to-face about a bike's length apart from each other and bowed.

‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the taekwondo fight of the century. In the camouflage shorts and Little Miss Angry T-shirt is Hils. In the green knitted cardigan with fluffy white sheep all over it is The Skrink. I'm your commentator Charlie “Tinfoil Tonsils” Duncan.

‘Hils and The Skrink are both bouncing back and forth like they're on a trampoline. Have they started fighting? I don't know anything about taekwondo so I can't really tell if the fight has even started. Is taekwondo just bouncing? Does the person who can bounce the longest wins? What is this bouncing move called? I don't know what any taekwondo moves are called. It looks like I'm just going to have to make up my own names for each move.

‘Hils and The Skrink are both still bouncing. I'm going to call this move the Boring Bouncy Beginning Bit. Suddenly The Skrink attacks. She catches Hils off guard – with a move that I'll call the Fluttering Flamingo of Fury kick – and Hils goes down.

‘She goes down hard. The Skrink does some more bouncing but Hils isn't moving. Could the fight be all over already? Hils still isn't moving. The Skrink stops bouncing and walks slowly over to where Hils is lying unconscious. Or dead. She could be dead. The Skrink has killed Hils. This is terrible. I'll never get a paper round and Hils is dead. The Skrink bends over to look at Hils. Without warning Hils sweeps with her leg and knocks The Skrink down with a Leg Broom of Doom.

‘Hils isn't dead. Hils is back on her feet and bouncing. The Skrink is up as well and looks like she's going to attack Hils with a Captain Cook No Look Sook Hook but she's just faking. The Skrink pulverises an unsuspecting Hils with a 360 Degree Twisting Terror Toe.

‘Oh no. Hils goes down again clutching her cheek. The Skrink goes in for the kill with a Knine Knuckled Knose Knobbler but Hils turns the tables with a Fiendishly Fast Face Flattener.

‘Now The Skrink is down. Hils tries to finish The Skrink with a Two Foot Long Scone Prong but The Skrink rolls out of the way and smashes Hils with a Full Bore Jaw War. Hils is stunned.

‘The Skrink picks Hils up, lifting her over her head like she's using Hils to practise weightlifting. This is bad. Very bad. It looks like The Skrink is going to crush Hils with a Doorjamb Wham Bam Clam Slam – a move that can be fatal. The Skrink tries to smash Hils to the ground but Hils grabs The Skrink's arm and executes a perfect Swingy Springy Stingy Thingy. Before The Skrink knows what is happening Hils gets her in an Over The Shoulder Boulder Holder.

‘The Skrink is in trouble. Hils performs a perfect Ferris Wheel That Makes You Squeal and The Skrink lands flat on her face. Hils applies a Would You Like Pain With That? hold and finally a Num Bum Stun Thumb.

‘The Skrink stays down. She doesn't move. Hils takes a few steps away and bows to The Skrink. The Skrink doesn't bow back because she is out cold. The fight is over! Hils has won. Hils has won. She's won the war. I'm going to get a paper round!

‘Thank you for listening to my commentary. Goodnight and goodbye.'

‘Hils. You won.' I said. ‘You won. You beat The Skrink! You finished her of with a Numb Bum Stun Thumb.'

‘What is a Numb Bum Stun Thumb?' said Hils.

‘We won the war. I mean, you won the war. I can get a paper round. You are amazing, Hils. We won. You won. We won.'

I turned back towards the Stinkly Wrinklys.

‘You lost,' I said. ‘I can get a paper round because you lost.'

‘Hoo haa,' shouted all the Stinkly Wrinklys as they raised their pinching fingers in the air.

‘Look, Hils, they're saluting you. That's really nice of them. They're admitting you're the superior warrior.'

‘Negative.'

‘Hoo haa.'

‘What are they trying to say then?' I said.

Before Hils could answer, a rock-hard-throwing-hanky few just past my right ear.

‘Hoo haa.'

‘They're trying to say,' said Hils, ‘that any minute now they're going to attack us.'

‘Hoo haa.'

‘But they agreed that if you won the fight we won the war,' I said.

‘They're going back on that agreement,' said Hils.

‘That's not very nice.'

Another rock-hard-throwing-hanky flew past, narrowly missing my head.

‘THAT'S NOT VERY NICE EITHER,' I said to the Stinkly Wrinklys.

‘Hoo haa,' they shouted back.

Then they charged.

I didn't think old ladies could charge.

But they can.

They were fast.

They were angry.

They were getting really, very, super close really, very, super fast.

‘What are we going to do, Hils?'

I'm not sure what Hils said because, whatever it was, was drowned out by a horrible noise.

‘WHAT IS THAT AWFUL NOISE?' said Hils.

‘I DON'T KNOW,' I said.

But I did know. I knew because I had heard it before. It was Peter. Playing the bagpipes.

‘IT'S PETER,' I said.

‘WHO IS PETER?' said Hils.

‘THAT IS PETER,' I said, turning around and pointing at Peter as he crested the hill at the end of the quarry. He was playing the bagpipes.

I was pleased to see Peter but I didn't think that one Iraqi bagpiper was going to be much help against fifty charging Stinkly Wrinklys.

‘HILS. I WAS TOO BUSY LOOKING AT PETER AND I FORGOT THAT THE STINKLY WRINKLYS ARE STILL CHARGING AT US BUT THE STINKLY WRINKLYS ARE STILL CHARGING AT US.'

I turned and looked at the charging Stinkly Wrinklys.

Suddenly they stopped charging.

Why had they stopped charging? Had I stopped them? I did have a moderately angry look on my face. Maybe they'd seen my moderately angry look and had realised that I was not a person to be trifled with and that had made them stop? Yes, I think I had stopped them. I kept staring at the Stinkly Wrinklys with a moderately angry look. They kept not charging. Yes, it was definitely me that had stopped them.

‘Look,' said Hils.

‘Where?'

‘Behind you.'

‘I can't,' I said. ‘I've stopped the Stinkly Wrinklys with my moderately angry look. If I turn away, they'll start charging again.'

‘Negative. You have not stopped them.'

I really thought I had.

‘I didn't think I had,' I said.

I looked.

There, behind me, was the real reason the Stinkly Wrinklys had stopped charging.

Coming over the hill – behind bagpiping Peter – was a rebel army.

Our rebel army.

Right behind Peter was Warren riding the most amazing bike I had ever seen. Every part of it was gold. It had gold pedals, gold spokes and even gold tyres. The gold handlebars were covered in hundreds of gold rear vision mirrors. The setting sun reflected off it making it look like it was on fire. It must have been the magical bicycle TwelveSpeed.

Alongside Warren were a whole lot of other really big guys who all looked exactly like Warren. There were also some girls – who also looked exactly like Warren. Each of them rode incredible bikes: one bike had huge green bat wings; another one was really, very, super tiny with three enormous horns poking out the back; there was a tricycle that shot sparks from its back wheels; a bike that had a shopping trolley where the front wheels should have been, and a unicycle that, instead of a seat, had a crow's nest like on a pirate ship.

After Warren and his bike warriors came The Lurker (I still didn't like him but he
was
a valuable asset) and Simon Bolivar. Behind them was just about every kid from our school apart from Harriet Borges – who was on holiday – and Townes McFarlane – who had head lice.

And Rashid. I couldn't see Rashid anywhere.