Badger the Mystical Mutt and the Barking Boogie (2 page)

He padded back to the spot where his ingredients lay. Sparkles of light twinkled around him as he repeated the spell.

“Charcoal rocks and mouldy old socks
,

Cardamom seeds and corn that pops …”

His tummy rumbled loudly again. “Ah,” he thought. “Maybe I need my higgledy-piggledy tower of toast before the spell will actually work.”

Even through the smelly yuckiness, Badger's nose twitched as he picked up the familiar scent of a freshly made toastie somewhere very close. Then, he heard the plinkety plonk tune of the local bakery van.

“Right on time,” he smiled, as he untied his famous red-spotted neckerchief and spoke to it seriously.

“'Chief, I have a job for you.
Float, float, float away. Find some toast to make my day.
”

Badger sat back confidently and awaited his snack. 'Chief always came back with the goods and had never let him down yet.

At the bottom of his garden, a pair of beautiful blue eyes peered brightly through the crack in the fence as Badger stretched out, licking his lips. The sun cast a shadow on his sundial showing a quarter to noon. Suddenly, his nose pinched, the smell was getting even more icky.

“Yuck! I hope 'Chief hurries back. I'll have to finish the spell before noon or the Pong Police will close the lane.”

Right on cue, 'Chief drifted over the fence and hovered above Badger's nose.

“Y
ummity yum yum yum, must get this toast into my tum, then my magic can be done!
” Badger drooled, feeling very pleased with himself. 'Chief wrapped itself back around his neck and knotted neatly.

As Badger munched into the delicious cheese toastie, the blue eyes at the bottom of the garden widened and watched in wonder. The tiny dog that had been chasing Dodgy Dave and his gang skipped through the crack in the fence and marched up to Badger.

“Ahem!” she coughed slightly.

Badger stopped mid-munch and looked around him, unable to see where the noise had come from, but the air reeked worse than before. He thought no more of it and finished the last bite of his toastie. It was time to get back to work on his spell.

A loud
prffffft
sounded nearby. Badger looked around him again, but still couldn't see what had caused the noise. He shook his head and got back to work.

Shuffling the ingredients, he rubbed two small twigs together vigorously.

“Charcoal rocks and mouldy old socks
,

Cardamom seeds and corn that pops
,

Mix up together in a cardboard box
,

Take this stink and make it stop!”

As the twigs sparked and the clock struck noon, he heard another cough, an even louder
prffffft
, a big bang … and everything went black.

Badger and the tiny dog looked at each other, blinking. They were covered in soot from head to toe.

“What just happened?” choked the little dog, shaking the soot from her fur.

“Oh! I'm not quite sure. Something exploded.” Badger frowned, scratching his head. Then he noticed a wisp of smoke rise from the tiny dog's bottom.

“Why were the twigs sparking?” asked the little dog.

“I was perfecting my famous smell-removing spell, only it didn't quite work,” said Badger raising an eyebrow. “Because, I suspect, some sort of windypops is connected with the sparks.”

He untied his dirty neckerchief and held it over his nose.

“And now the smell is worse now than before. Hang on …” said Badger leaning down to sniff the other dog. One sniff was more than enough.

“It's you!” shouted Badger, stumbling backwards away from the stink. “You're the cause of the unexplained foulness!
That's
why the gang was running away from you.”

The ball of fur next to him shook her bottom indignantly and waggled her tail.

“Indeed it is not!”

“Who are you anyway?” asked Badger more gently “I've not seen you in the lane before.”

The small dog puffed out her chest and proudly announced, “I'm Cheryl with a C, that's me, not Sheryl with an S, because Sheryl with an S goes ‘Ssssshhhh', whilst Cheryl with a C goes ‘Ch' … as in cha-cha-cha!”

“Are you a Chiuhuaha?” he asked

“I'm a sausage dog actually; a chipolata.”

“I don't think you're a sausage dog, Cheryl, but you definitely put the
wah-wah
in Chihuahua.”

“Whatever! I've got a bigger problem than the smell right now,” exclaimed Cheryl. “They've closed the lane!”

“The Pong Police need to get to the
bottom
of the mystery smell. Except I think we both know why the lane smells,” said Badger, raising his other eyebrow in the direction of Cheryl's tiny bottom.

“But now I've got nowhere to practise,” sighed Cheryl.

“Practise what?” asked Badger, still dusting off the dirt from his coat.

“My dancing, of course! I want to enter the
Hotpaws Barking Boogie
. But now I've got nowhere to practise, and no dancing partner.”

“You dance? Are you any good?” asked Badger, somewhat amused.

“Good? Am I any good? I am the very best. My cha-cha is world famous,” she replied, sashaying across the garden. “But the rules for the
Barking Boogie
say I cannot enter without a partner,” she added sadly.

“You're certainly full of beans, Cheryl. But maybe that's exactly the problem!” Badger smiled.

“They talk of you everywhere, Badger. You are the Mystical Mutt, and you can fix things with your magic. Can you open the lane again so I can practise my groove? Maybe you can help me find a dancing partner?”

“Okay, I will do what I can to help, Cheryl. But why are you after the gang? It did make me chuckle, to see
them
being chased for a change.”

“It's Dodgy Dave. I've seen him …” she sighed.

“Seen him what?”

“At night, under the street spotlight, I've seen him dance a slow paw-shuffle. He's my Sugar Paws; my hero. He has put the jam in my jamalamadingdog.” Cheryl clasped her paws to her tiny chest.

“Goodness! Dodgy Dave? A dancer? Isn't he a tearaway? Who knew he had some rhythm in his bones instead of four left paws?”

“He knows about the
Barking Boogie
too. Anton Du Bark will be the judge. But if the lane is closed, the
Barking Boogie
can't go ahead anyway and Dodgy Dave won't dance.”

“How do you know he won't dance?” asked Badger

“Every time I try to speak to him, he runs away.”

Cheryl looked up at him with her big, innocent eyes. Badger thought for a moment, careful not to hurt Cheryl's feelings anymore by telling her just how badly she stank.

“Maybe we need to get you smelling better, and then Dodgy Dave will dance with you!”

“Do I really smell so bad, Badger? The gang keep telling me I stink.” Cheryl's bottom vibrated with another long, loud
prffffft
. The smell clung to her.

Badger had to make Cheryl believe the truth about her smelliness, otherwise there was no hope for her dancing dreams with Dodgy Dave.

“Cheryl, I do believe that
you're
the reason for the lane's closure. So that's good news in a way, because if we can make you fragrant, the lane will open again and Dodgy Dave might dance with you.”

Cheryl lowered her head and looked up at Badger sadly, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I don't know why I smell so bad, Badger. Can you do a spell to make the smell disappear?”

“Oh, Cheryl. I can do amazing magic. I can levitate toast. I can fly. I can even time travel. But I don't know about making your smell go away. I've been trying my smell-removing spell, but you saw for yourself … it doesn't seem to be working.”

Cheryl dropped her shoulders and sighed. “Never mind, Badger. Thank you for trying. I'll see you another time,”

Cheryl clicked her heels, turned and tip-toed softly back to the bottom of the lane, her head hung low. Over her shoulder, she said:

“One day, you will see me dance, Badger, and you will be enchanted!”

“I know, wee one, I know,” said Badger gently.

As Cheryl stepped through the crack in the fence, she found the lane deserted. The Pong Police had started their task, and were spraying the area, using big machines strapped to their backs.

Cheryl looked wearily up the lane and spotted Dodgy Dave hiding behind the bins. She sneaked up to him.

“What are you doing here, Cheryl?” whispered Dodgy Dave, “All of us are supposed to be out of here by now.”

“So why are
you
still here?” she asked.

“I've got nowhere else to go. This is my home,” replied Dodgy Dave.

“Where's the rest of the gang?”

“They have pals in other lanes who've taken them in”

“I've seen you dancing, Dodgy Dave,” said Cheryl shyly.

“What?” he shouted aghast.

Just then four Big Folk's boots trundled towards them both.

“Uh-oh! Quick! Let's get inside this wheelie bin,” yelled Dodgy Dave, pulling Cheryl with him.