The Greatest Sheep in History (4 page)

BOOK: The Greatest Sheep in History
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Then there was a strange cackle and a thin voice rang out across the room:

Run, run, as fast as you can,
You can’t catch me—
I’m Chicken George!

FOUR

On stage, the president was looking more stupefied than stupendous.

‘Quick, everyone,’ she urged. ‘After him!’

As one, the assembled superheroes rose and surged towards the door.

To Ernie’s surprise, there was a lot of pushing and shoving. He’d always imagined that superheroes would be super polite, but apparently this wasn’t the case.

‘You might be Fast Freddie,’ a young black-clad woman said to a man in pink and
aqua stripes, ‘but I’m Hasty Harriet, so step aside.’

‘Oh yeah?’ said a wiry older woman, pushing past them. ‘Well, the pair of you can make way for Rapid Rebecca!’

Ernie was surrounded on all sides by similar complaints.

‘Watch it, you’re standing on my cape!’

‘Get your big fat feet off my toes of steel!’

And, most disturbing of all, ‘What’s that sheep doing here? This conference is reserved for heroes, not barnyard animals!’

Ernie spun around angrily to see a pear shaped man in a tight white costume. There was a sudden streak of black and claws, then the man stared disbelievingly at his tattered sleeve.

‘My sleeve—you’ve torn it to shreds!’ he shrieked.

‘Sorry,’ purred Housecat Woman sweetly.

Ernie glanced anxiously at Maud, hoping she hadn’t heard the exchange, but he could tell by her downcast eyes that she had.

At last the crowd of superheroes gushed from the assembly hall like water from a tap onto the field outside.

Fast Freddie, Hasty Harriet and Rapid Rebecca raced around the field, and Eagle-eyed Ed and his twin brother, Beady-eyed Bert, scanned the grass for clues. But there was not a thieving chicken in sight.

‘Who
is
Chicken George?’ Ernie asked Amazing Desmond, who was standing beside him.

Desmond shrugged. ‘Search me,’ he said. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of him.’ He turned to Magnificent Marjory, who had just walked up. ‘Have you heard of this Chicken George before, Marj?’

‘Not a word,’ said Marjory.

‘He’s probably part of some evil new barnyard gang,’ chimed in the pear-shaped man, who clearly didn’t like sheep.

‘Which specialises in stealing speeches?’ asked Rapid Rebecca, still panting from her circuit of the field.

Seeing there was nothing more they could do, the gathering moved towards the cafeteria for dinner.

After helping themselves at the buffet—‘There’s some great vegetarian dishes,’ Maud noted excitedly, with Desmond adding, ‘And
pepperoni pizza!’—they found seats at one of the four long tables.

All conversation centred around the outrageous cheek of Chicken George. While Ernie had seen little more than a flash of white with a crest of red whiz across the stage, it appeared that many others in the audience had had a closer look.

‘Two metres tall!’ said one.

‘With a beak as sharp as a knife!’ said another.

‘And giant fangs!’ added a third.

The one thing everyone agreed on was that Chicken George was the most terrifying and villainous chicken anyone had ever seen.

Ernie shivered. Suddenly he had a new fear to add to his long list.

‘The question is,’ said Super Whiz loudly, thumping his fist on the table, ’what are we going to do about it? We can’t just have criminal chickens waltzing in and stealing speeches from our president.’

‘Well, he didn’t exactly waltz,’ Desmond pointed out. ‘He moved across that stage faster than a speeding pizza driver. I’ve never seen a chicken move so fast!’

Stupendous Sue, who was sitting a few places away at the head of the table, said firmly, ‘Super Whiz is right. No one is safe while that chicken is on the loose. I’m going to hold a meeting of all branch presidents tomorrow morning so we can develop a plan of action.’

With that decided, the assembled superheroes seemed to feel that they could turn their attention to dinner. Ernie was impressed by their heroic appetites.

When all the plates and bowls were finally scraped clean, and even Desmond had eaten his fill from the dessert buffet, superheroes
began to rise from their seats and drift off towards their cabins.

Valiant Vera was studying the conference schedule as the members of Baxter Branch crossed the darkening field. ‘I’ve signed you two up for a seminar that starts straight after breakfast,’ she told Ernie and Maud. ‘Terrific Trainees and Super Sidekicks: Creating tomorrow’s superheroes today.’

Ernie and Maud exchanged delighted looks.

‘That sounds great!’ Maud said.

‘Super Whiz will be at the meeting of branch presidents, of course,’ Valiant Vera continued.

‘Of course,’ Super Whiz echoed importantly.

‘Desmond, you’re down for—’ Vera squinted at her schedule. ‘Card Games and Line Dancing …?’

‘Er, that should read “Hard Names and Line Glancing”,’ said Desmond quickly. ‘It’s, um, a class on how to use the telephone book to hunt down mischief-makers.’

‘Oh!’ said Vera, looking surprised. ‘Okay. Housecat Woman will be going to a class on Superhero Stress Relief: From rescuing to relaxing, and I am attending a seminar on Equipment and Resource Management, which I expect will be very valuable. We’ll all meet up again at Super Whiz’s lecture in the main assembly hall, then have some lunch before The Daring Dynamo gives the closing address.’

As they filed into their cabins, Ernie noticed that Maud was lagging behind.

‘What are you doing, Maud?’ His sidekick was standing still, gazing up at the sky. Bathed in moonlight, her fleece looked snowy white.

‘I’m just looking at the moon, Ernie,’ Maud said with a sigh: ‘I was thinking about the first astronauts, and wondering if a sheep will ever do something so heroic.’

‘Oh Maud, I’m sure there have been plenty of heroic sheep,’ said Ernie. ‘Um, what about … I know! What about that black sheep? You know, the one who had all that wool. Three whole bags, wasn’t it?’

‘You mean Blackie? Oh, she’s all right, I suppose, but I’d hardly count being able to grow a lot of wool as heroic, Ernie.’

‘Hmm, I suppose you’re right,’ Ernie had to admit. ‘Wait!’ he said desperately as Maud turned and slowly made her way towards her cabin. ‘What about those sheep you count when you’re trying to get to sleep? They have saved millions of people from sleepless nights!’

‘Thanks for trying, Ernie,’ Maud said. ‘But we both know those sheep are imaginary. Let’s face it: sheep can’t be heroes.’

‘Well, I’ll tell you something, Maud,’ Ernie called after her. ‘If a chicken can be a villain, then a sheep can definitely be a hero.’

‘Thanks for trying, Ernie,’ Maud said again. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, Maud.’ Ernie trudged into his cabin. Even though the lights were still on, Desmond was already snoring away. Super Whiz was sitting up in bed reading through his speech and muttering to himself.

Ernie changed into his pyjamas, brushed his teeth, then climbed up to his bunk with
The Greatest Heroes in History.
He might as well read another chapter before going to sleep—perhaps there would be a sheep in this chapter.

‘Fearless Heroes of Flight,’ he read, his eyes starting to feel heavy already.

By the time Super Whiz turned out the light, Ernie was fast asleep and dreaming that he was counting sheep jumping over a fence. Each sheep wore a short pink cape that fluttered as it jumped, and each one turned to him and said sadly, ‘Sheep can’t be heroes.’

FIVE

When Ernie stepped outside the next morning, he scanned the surrounds anxiously for any sign of a two-metre chicken with enormous teeth. Instead, he saw a huge, red hot-air balloon tethered at the far end of the field.

‘A hot-air balloon!’ he said to Amazing Desmond, who was right behind him. ‘Where did it come from?’

‘Ah, The Daring Dynamo must have arrived,’ Desmond said. He peered at a small shape
moving around the balloon’s basket. ‘Yep, that looks like Clever Clementine.’

Ernie peered too, and could just make out a small white body with vivid orange legs and a bright orange beak. ‘A duck?’ he guessed.

‘That’s right. Clementine is Dynamo’s sidekick, and a great one.’

The Daring Dynamo had an animal sidekick, just like he did! They had never mentioned that on TV. Ernie couldn’t wait to tell Maud.

He spotted her a little way ahead, staring at the balloon as if transfixed.

‘Look, Ernie,’ she breathed, as he came to stand beside her. ‘Have you ever seen anything more beautiful? Wouldn’t you love to have a ride?’

‘Yeah!’ said Ernie. Then he said honestly, and a little glumly, ‘Well, no, not really. I’d be too scared to go so high.’

Maud looked shocked. ‘Scared, Ernie? You?

BOOK: The Greatest Sheep in History
8.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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