Chapter Three: The Magnificent Thirty-Five Now that Mr Farnsbarnes (as I shall still sometimes call him) had now been able to go into full production with his newly-patented Wheels, the entire slug army was kitted out with a set each; a squirreloid or other friendly member of the woodland underclass sat at the rear of each machine, ready to respond to the power button. Nige had fine-tuned the machines in accordance with Ergo and Sodge?s instructions, so that they were now very quiet indeed (no engine noise, to speak of, and no orchestral music) and there was a vast array of different variations across the front. Weapons, telescopes, umbrellas, fondue sets, all sorts of things. Nige was to receive a small design credit and a royalty on each set made. This would be calculated by the gnome-adds and paid quarterly. The next day, thirty-five of the toughest slugs set out on the reconnaissance expedition. They left at the crack of dawn, their progress over the rough ground made easier by the fitting of rough-ground tyres to their wheels. Ergo could not help feeling a flash of excitement in the pit of his digestive tract. This was the real thing. The day they had trained so hard for. His soldiers looked the part, at least. They bristled with weapons, flags and equipment, all of which was attached to the "handlebars" at the front, just above the head. Many also wore helmets made of leather and wood. Even the woodland creatures were kitted out in armoured vests and helmets, giving them the appearance of gladiators riding strange chariots. A separate sled carried the gramophone, - which Nigel Farnsbarnes had slung on gimbals to minimise needle jumping. George Formby?s 'Chinese Laundry Blues' blared out across the plains. They went via I Thought I Told You Not To Be So Ridiculous Valley, and up through the old orchard on the hilly bit of Don't Be So Ridiculous Valley (which was really a hill, so went upwards, don't forget). They were just turning out of the orchard when something heavy bounced off Sodge's helmet. "What was that?" yelled Sodge. "I think it was haddock and chips twice. It must be Friday" said Ergo. They followed the stream down the other side of the hilly bit of Don't Be So Ridiculous Valley, until they were able to cross the Unbelievably Smelly River dam, under cover of darkness. Two days later they found themselves at the foothills of the Mauve and Avocado Mountains, and moving towards the Avocado Basin. They were soon to enter pigfrog country! Ergo gave orders for the gramophone to be silenced, and the records to be stowed in the furry envelopes which protected them from breakage and frost damage. They trudged on until teatime on the third day, stopping to make camp and rest. Unknown animals barked eerie warnings across the bleak landscape. Darkness fell. Darkness was one of the clumsiest slugs Ergo had ever met. How can you fall over when you are already lying down? It could be done. Darkness could do it. Two gnome-adds had come along as cooks, stretcher bearers, buglers and money lenders. In their capacity as cooks, they now opened several tins of BEEF, CORNED. Slugs for the use of and created a magnificent banquet with the help of a tin of MILK, EVAPORATED and a large lump of CHEESE, PROCESSED. Everyone ate, sang songs and drank Dandelion and Burdock. Yes, this was life, thought Ergo. This was flipping life! He pressed his Bivouac button and an ingenious tent contraption sprang out from the base of his slug tray and made itself into a sort of tent roof, rather like the hood of a Mercedes SL. Ergo slept. He dreamed that he was playing the piano. We all dream about the unattainable. To a human, dreams of flying are the ultimate fantasy. Ergo dreamed about playing the piano, with real, clever little fingers instead of the knobby little digits he could usually form from his slimy bits. He was singing, too. It was a song he had composed, in his dream. The song was called 'Thinking Of Little Else'. So! He had not forgotten Elsie at all! There she was, right in the middle of his dream. Poor Elsie, who had lost her brother to a pigfrog. Ergo would avenge her. And he was playing the piano for her... It felt so thrilling to be in love! He started to tingle all through. Far out! If he had had loins they would certainly be stirring now, and no mistake. He thought of Little Else in her tweed two-piece. He thought of her in tennis shorts. He thought of her in a grand hotel, eating a French bean salad. He thought of himself sitting next to Little Else, watching her eat the salad. He began to weep warm, salty, loving tears. In his dream, he fell asleep. In reality, he woke up. There was something watching him from a distance of about fifteen yards. Something not very nice. He could see it through the open doorway of his roof-tent, and at first he thought that he was still dreaming. Looking out across the campsite, he could see the misty, dawn-lit shapes of the rest of his task force, asleep in their individual bivouacs. The intruder was now moving slowly towards him. It was a heavy-set, hairy, humanoid creature, something like a troll. It had very nasty eyes. They were bloodshot, with huge black pupils that bored into Ergo with deadly, detached menace. Its arms, which were long enough to drag along the ground, held a powerful wooden crossbow with a vicious-looking dart or bolt sticking out of it. As it moved, its gait was characterised by the stooping lurch of a hunchback. Ergo silently started the power system of his wheels. The woodland creature at the back of his machine woke with a start and literally spat onion breath into the windsock. With a swift movement, Ergo rammed the machine into reverse and shot backwards about six feet (all measurements are given in converted slug feet; in reality slugs didn't call them 'feet' for obvious reasons). The intruder stopped in its tracks, taken aback by the sudden movement. Ergo rang a loud bicycle bell which was attached to his "handlebars". It woke the camp. Bivouac roofs concertina'd back into their slug tray bases, and the task force was revealed, half asleep. Five other nasty troll things stood around, crossbows ready. "Don't you lot dare move, or I'll be very cross indeed!" shouted the first troll thing, in rather a posh accent. He appeared to have echo on his voice. It made the voice sound like a cross between Elvis Presley and Prince Charles. It was clear that the task force was surrounded, and that, having been taken by surprise, were powerless against these strong, heavily armed enemies. "Who are you?" asked Ergo. The chief troll chappie thought Ergo had said "How are you?" with a Scottish accent, and it did not reply. The troll seemed to have been to private school, but looked absolutely horrid (the two things not being mutually exclusive, anyway). "Would you mind telling me what you think you're doing in The Avocado Bit Of The Mauve And Avocado Mountains?" said the leader. "We are just on an expedition to find out about the pigfrogs", said Ergo. "Not that it's any of your business" he added, bravely. "Gosh, how exciting!", said the leader. "Any danger of us lot coming, too?" Ergo breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, if you put that thing down before it goes off and kebabs someone" said Ergo. The intruders were Avocado Pear farmers who lived underground, in the caves and potholes of the Avocado bit of the Mauve and Avocado Mountains. They had seen the task force arrive, presumed they were avocado rustlers, and crept up on them as they slept. "I do have a little bit of bad news for you", said the chief avocado farmer. "What's that, then?" asked Ergo. "Well, you know how the pigfrogs only come out in December?" "Yes, of course" said Ergo. "It's June" said the farmer. "Oh, dear", said Ergo. "Turn around, lads." *********************** Down the mountains they trudged. The Avocado farmers helped them to find the way, because they had only brought with them a one-way map. The chief avocado farmer was called Arthur Monkberry, and he had told Ergo that he and his friends would join the great army on its return through The Avocado Bit Of The Mauve And Avocado Mountains. When he had escorted them as far as the Unbelievably Smelly River dam, he waved goodbye (he waved like the Queen) and shouted "Death To All Pigfrogs!" which went down really well. On the way, Ergo's thoughts drifted back to Little Else. He was hooked. Couldn't wait to get back home to the Farnsbarnes? Tree House. Formby's 'Chinese Laundry Blues' didn't quite seem the same any more. His heart was beating to a different rhythm. The sudden end to his adventure was insignificant by comparison. As they pulled in to the Farnsbarnes' front garden, Ergo leaped from his wheels in order to run upstairs even before the wheels had come to a standstill. This did not have the effect he had hoped for, which was to get him to Little Else quicker. Having abandoned his wheels he was now only able to move more slowly. Ah, thought Ergo. He remounted his wheels and waited for the Farnsbarneses and Else to come out to greet them. Not wishing to appear foolish, the little slug general regained his composure and began a stirring speech to all present. Dismissing the aborted recce expedition as unimportant and a great victory both at the same time, he suddenly hit on a wonderful idea which he deftly ad-libbed into his speech. "I have a plan", he said. "It is all to do with December, - so I bet you I wouldn't have thought of it without the recce, and meeting Arthur Monkberry. Since pigfrogs only come out in December to spoil Christmas, we'll go up there next week and fool them into thinking it is Christmas already! We'll do carol singing, and shake sleigh bells. We'll be nicer to each other than usual, and make a big show of giving each other useless presents which we can't afford and nobody wants! We'll be so overtly festive that they'll come leaping from their potholes, all disorientated, and half asleep, which is when we'll hit them with everything we've got, or preferably more! Ha Ha!" Everybody had to admit it was, well, an interesting idea. Little Else smiled. She thought it was a brilliant idea. She had had a strange dream the night before, where Ergo had been playing the piano to her. It had been so romantic, and he'd been wearing a grey silk tuxedo with a yellow handkerchief. Up until then she'd always thought of him as just another slug. Now things had begun to feel different, There was a heroic quality to him that she was beginning to find rather magnetic. Vive La Difference! Of course, la difference between fairies and slugs was no laughing matter. It would all probably end in tears, she told herself. She still thought it was a brilliant idea. And so the plan was laid. Sodge, who was becoming a most able lieutenant to Ergo, put the entire army over a rigorous assault course, - each soldier carrying a 60lb pack containing Christmas puddings, Scalextrix sets and bottles of green ginger wine. Dotty organised a choir, and the worst eight singers were split into two groups of four, and given the imaginative names Carol Singing Squad Number One and Carol Singing Squad Number One. Giving them both the same name was a subtlety thought up by Sodge, to fool the enemy. Quite how it would fool them he never said. It certainly fooled the carol singers, however. Calendars were purchased and filled in with false appointments all the way through June, July, August, September, October and November. No detail was ignored. Nigel went down to the stores and swapped two dozen cans of Breakfast Woodsmoke for a dozen of Essence of Tangerines and Cigars. It was decided to change the power system of Nige's Wheels. There was nothing wrong with the power, they explained to Nige, diplomatically. It was the idea of spending another night in a bivouac with one's squirreloid partner breaking wind all night from a day's work eating raw onions that had really been the straw that had broken the camel's back. Nige said he understood. A few days later, he came up with a garlic and baked beans powered version. ************************ One other thing had begun to trouble Ergo. Things didn't seem silly enough any more. He had found adventure and excitement, but something had been lost. Silliness. On the march through Don't Be So Ridiculous Valley he had felt a pang of nostalgia run through him. Once silliness was in your blood, it was hard to live without it. He confided in Sodge. "Yes, I suppose so", admitted Ergo. "But it doesn't compare with Don't Be So Ridiculous Valley. There's no place like home. This place is nice, but just not quite silly enough, Sodge". "I think you are being a little paranoid, Ergo, if you don't mind my saying so", said Sodge, "what about Dotty's multichromatic helicopter and Nigel's Wheels? They're silly, aren't they? What about ..." "OK, OK, they are silly. I'm probably just a bit overwrought.. Is there any more of that BEEF, CORNED left?" said Ergo, changing the subject. He knew that if you tried to be silly it spoiled the whole thing. It had to come naturally. *********************** The problem about being in, near, or from Don't Be So Ridiculous Valley was that you could never say "Don't be so ridiculous!" to anyone even if you really meant it, because they would think you were just casually mentioning the place. They might perhaps think you were asking the way there, and direct you to it, and if you were particularly polite, you might start off towards it, so as to avoid offending them. Consequently, nobody ever said it in normal conversation, and so if anybody actually was being ridiculous, it went completely unchecked. Three weeks after the return from the incident with the avocado farmers (called in slug mythology 'the avocado incident') Ergo and his entire army were ready to leave on the great push into pigfrog country. This time, they were so well equipped, it wasn't funny. Well, maybe it was a bit funny, but not very. Anyway, there they were, all well equipped and everything, sat sitting on the grass waiting for orders. Dotty and Mr Farnsbarnes were hovering very professionally in the air above the leading ranks of the slugs and auxiliary forces, made up of trolls, gnomes and assorted fairy and woodland folk, some of the Enid Blyton ilk, but most of the Tolkien variety. In fact, many had been in Lord Of The Rings, which was now finished, and they had relocated to find new work. Dotty's helicopter was now blue with a dark blue stripe, and Mr F's was pink, meaning that it must have been Monday, Wednesday or Friday Afternoon, or Tuesday, Thursday or Weekend morning. It was, in fact 10.30am on a Saturday morning. The helicopters were cunningly disguised as sledges with reindeer, thanks to an ingenious papier mache mould created by Mr Farnsbarnes. It made them difficult to pilot, but it was possible to get an adequate view by peering between the reindeer antlers and moving one's head about all the time. Ergo had decided on a particularly novel touch. He looked up the pigfrogs in the Yellow Pages (under P) and had found out their phone number. It was Everywhere Else 1453876. He dialled it. It rang and rang. Eventually, a taped message said: "Hello, this is pigfrog headquarters. Sorry there is no-one here awake to take your call. Please leave a message and we'll get back to you". Fairly standard stuff, thought Ergo. He had actually wanted to speak to the senior pigfrog, who he had learned was an old bandit called General Moundrot. As the tone sounded, Ergo began: "Hello, everybody. Merry Christmas and welcome to another December 24th. We'll soon be on our way past your caves but please take no notice, and don't whatever you do try to jump on us or it will be most unpleasant. Goodwill to all men, but more particularly slugs and pigfrogs one and all". The machine clicked off and he replaced the receiver. Moving to the head of his forces, Ergo began to give orders. "Three hundred mushroom burgers, medium rare, no salt" he shouted down his field telephone. Some hours later it was all delivered by a small fleet of vans from the Woodlands Gourmet Take-Away Joint. "An army marches on its stomach!" opined Ergo, which in this case was especially true. When they had eaten their meal, the slug forces were ready to move. He had briefed his senior commanders down to the last detail. The forces moved forward in column-of-twos, and the first formation of slugs-on-wheels was followed by two large snow machines, which were pulled by a team of gerbils. Gerbils would go anywhere, and Ergo had been training them for months. He knew they would not fail him in a tight spot. After these came the combat troops, with their party hats and streamers, under which were secreted the deadly weapons especially developed for this mission. The most sophisticated of these was the pigfrog depth charge, - wrongly named because it was fired into the air, nowhere near water. But it could be hidden in the back of the trouser belt and fired as the assaulting pigfrog was in mid-air. A specially sensitive ground-vibration and scream-sensitive aerial dragged along the ground to signify the moment that an attacking pigfrog was airborne. Once the trousers were activated, the pigfrog would stand no chance, and would, in theory, explode in mid air, spreading pigfrog bits all over the shop. The only problem was that slugs did not wear trousers. Damn. But it was quite good for gnomes and so on. To make up for the mistake about the trousers, Nige had invented a saliva-sensitive hat which could be worn by slugs, so that when a pigfrog was above them, on the descent, so to speak, - and most probably dribbling, the saliva-sensitive hat would notify them immediately, and ring a bell. "What!", said Ergo. "Ring a bell! That's no flipping good!". "Oh yes it is", said Nige. "The pigfrog will think it is teatime and look round. This will affect his aerodynamic velocity and he will crash to the ground, probably not on you". "Oh, do me a favour" Ergo had said. But it was easy to see that Nige had a point. He had, Ergo admitted, been right before. Ergo eventually persuaded Nigel to get rid of the bell and replace it with a high explosive grenade launcher. The only person left behind, waving from the gate as they went, was Little Else. She bit her lip as they disappeared over the crest of the rising ground adjacent to Chez Farnsbarnes. She had not told Ergo of her feelings for him. Ergo, also, had been too afraid to say anything to her. Perhaps they would never know about the mutual attraction between them, because of their timidness. Choking back a laugh, she turned and wandered back into the house to start the hoovering. The laugh was because she had just imagined herself at the altar, with Ergo crawling up the aisle in a grey topper. She would not be able to say "Don't be so ridiculous" to him because he might then begin giving her directions to that well known valley, right in the middle of their wedding! How silly. Her daydream came to an end with a loud bark from the Large Disused Owl, who was practising impressions of various dogs, to keep burglars away in the absence of the other occupants. Now wash your hands, then go to Slugs Chapter 4
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