Mr Gum and the Secret Hideout (10 page)

‘Baaa! Baaaa! Hello,’ agreed Splinters.

The two of them started down the hillside towards Santa del Wisp. The sun was going down and a chill was creeping into the evening air. And though they whispered it soft on the wind, if you listened carefully you could just make out the words they sang:

‘Oh, you jus’ will not believe all of them tricks we like to plaaaaaay …’

FIN

Hello again
, you adorable little chestnuts. You are, aren’t you? Yes, you are! You cheeky little conkers! Look at you all with your shiny little chestnut faces! Look at you all, tumbling down the hillside and rolling through the park like you haven’t got a care in the world! You’re simply ADORABLE! Aren’t you? Aren’t you? You happy little chestnuts. Yes, you are! Yes, you –

Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me. Anyway, forget it – here’s a bonus story instead. Just for you. Oh, you adorable little chestnuts. You are, aren’t you? Yes, you are! You really, really are! Oh, you’re just SO adora–

Sorry, everyone. Seriously, I’ll shut up now. Here’s the story. Sorry.

THE END

‘We’ll fix it in a minute,’ laughed Alan Taylor as a nearby sparrow turned into a dinosaur. ‘But not just yet – this is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!’

‘Oops,’ said Friday as they sat there watching the trees turning into seeds, the passers-by turning into ancient Romans and the sun setting and rising over and over again.

‘Oh, no!’ said Polly. ‘Frides, you was meant to wind it
forwards
! But you jus’ gone an’ wound it backwards even faster, you silly!’

So Friday took out a little key and wound up the silver pocket-watch and everyone waited to see what would happen.

‘Gould it somehow be controllin’ Time itself?’ said Polly in excitement.

‘And look,’ said Friday. ‘It’s running backwards! The hands are moving the wrong way!’

‘A old silver pocket-watch from the Victorian days what was ruled over by Queen Victorian!’ she exclaimed.

Alan Taylor jumped out of Jake’s mouth and handed the spit-covered object to Polly.

‘What a lovely dog he is!’ said Alan Taylor, climbing inside Jake’s mouth and stroking his tongue affectionately. ‘Hey, what’s this I’ve found in here?’

‘BARK!’ said Jake and everyone laughed to see that Polly had been right.

‘I bet Jakey’s gonna bark in a second,’ said Polly.

‘Oh, look, here comes Jake!’ cried Polly, who loved Jake the dog more than any other dog in the world, even that one on TV who can talk.

‘Forget it,’ said Alan Taylor.

‘What?’ said Friday. ‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you that time either.’

‘I said it’s really rather interesting, isn’t it?’

‘What?’ said Friday, who hadn’t really been listening.

‘Yes,’ said Polly.

‘No, absolutely no idea, I’m afraid,’ said Alan Taylor, his electric muscles whirring cheerfully. ‘But it’s really rather interesting, isn’t it?’

‘Oh,’ said Polly. ‘We was a-hopin’ you could tell us.’

‘Polly! Friday!’ cried little Alan Taylor, coming out to meet them. ‘I’m glad you’re here. What on earth’s going on?’

‘!PEEHC’ said a bird, flying backwards through the air.

‘I does hope Alan Taylor knows what’s a-goin’ on,’ said Polly as they saw Saint Pterodactyl’s School for the Poor gleaming in the sunshine on the top of the hill.

And eventually they were at the top.

Then they were very near the top.

After a while they were quite near the top.

They weren’t anywhere near the top.

It was a long walk to the top.

So off they started, up Boaster’s Hill.

‘Oh, I expect so,’ said Friday. ‘He is a headmaster after all. And headmasters know everything, like the names of famous blackcurrants and how many grains of rice there are in the sky. Come on, Polly – let’s start walking.’

‘Frides, do you think Alan Taylor will know what’s a-goin’ on?’ she asked.

‘That was a well long sentence what Friday just said,’ thought Polly.

‘Well, little miss,’ said Friday, scratching his nose thoughtfully with an electronic nosescratcher made from the leg of Hercules. ‘I know all about the mysteries of time and space but I’ve never seen anything like this before, not in all my years, and to be honest I’m rather confused and a little bit worried, so perhaps we should go and visit our good friend Alan Taylor up at his school on Boaster’s Hill because he might have an idea what’s going on and anyway it’s a nice day for walking up hills and I could do with the exercise because Mrs Lovely says I’m getting a little bit portly around the belly area, which is the part of the body between your legs and your face.’

‘Yeah, that’s it!’ exclaimed Polly as a golden-brown leaf flew up from the ground and attached itself to a tree. ‘Frides, what’s a-goin’ on?’

‘Backwards?’ suggested Friday.

‘It’s almost like everythin’s goin’…’ said Polly.

‘It’s true,’ said Friday. ‘But what is it? I can’t quite put my finger on it.’

‘Hold on a minute,’ frowned Polly. ‘Somethin’s not quite right.’

Friday found disagreeing with things quite disagreeable.

‘It is indeed,’ agreed Friday, who liked agreeing with things much more than he liked disagreeing with things.

‘Oh, look,’ said Polly. ‘It’s a lovely bright autumn morning.’

It was a lovely bright autumn morning, the sort of lovely bright autumn morning that makes you say, ‘Oh, look, it’s a lovely bright autumn morning.’

A Backwards Sort of A Day

About the Illustrator

David Tazzyman
lives in South London with his girlfriend, Melanie, and their son, Stanley. He grew up in Leicester, studied illustration at Manchester Metropolitan University and then travelled around Asia for three years before moving to London in 1997. He likes football, cricket, biscuits, music and drawing. He still dislikes celery.

About the Author

Andy Stanton
lives in North London. He studied English at Oxford but they kicked him out. He has been a film script reader, a cartoonist, an NHS lackey and lots of other things. He has many interests, but best of all he likes cartoons, books and music (even jazz). One day he’d like to live in New York or Berlin or one of those places because he’s got fantasies of bohemia. His favourite expression is ‘Rumble it up, Uncle Charlie!’ and his favourite word is ‘platypus’. This is his eighth book.

Visit
www.egmont.co.uk/
Authors Name for further information on your favourite Egmont author.

Shabba me whiskers! Andy Stanton’s Mr Gum is winner of the Roald Dahl Funny Prize, the Red House Children’s Book Award AND the Blue Peter Book Award for The Most Fun Story With Pictures. AND he’s been shortlisted for LOADS of other prizes too! It’s barking bonkers!

PRAISE FOR Mr Gum:

‘Do not even think about buying another book – This is gut-spillingly funty.’ Alex, aged 13

‘It’s hilarious, it’s brilliant … Stanton’s the Guv’nor, The Boss.’ Danny Baker, BBC London Radio

‘Funniest book I have ever and will ever read … When I read this to my mum she burst out laughing and nearly wet herself … When I had finished the book I wanted to read it all over again it was so good.’ Bryony, aged 8

‘Funny? You bet.’ Guardian

‘Andy Stanton accumulates silliness and jokes in an irresistible, laughter-inducing romp.’ Sunday Times

‘Raucous, revoltingly rambunctious and nose-snortingly funny.’ Daily Mail

‘David Tazzyman’s illustrations match the irreverent sparks of word wizardry with slapdash delight.’ Junior Education

‘This is Weird, Wacky and one in a million.’ Primary Times

‘It provoked long and painful belly laughs from my daughter, who is eight.’ Daily Telegraph

‘As always, Stanton has a ball with dialogue, detail and devilish plot twists.’ Scotsman

‘We laughed so much it hurt.’ Sophie, aged 9

‘You will laugh so much you’ll ache in places
you didn’t know you had.’ First News

‘A riotous read.’ Sunday Express

‘It’s utterly bonkers and then a bit more – you’ll love every madcap moment.’ TBK Magazine

‘Chaotically crazy.’ Jewish Chronicle

‘Designed to tickle young funny bones.’ Glasgow Herald

‘A complete joy to read whatever your age.’
This is Kids’ Stuff

‘The truth is a lemon meringue!’ Friday O’Leary

‘They are brilliant.’ Zoe Ball, Radio 2

‘Smooky palooki! This book is well brilliant.’ Jeremy Strong

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