“They still haven’t noticed us!” cried Nigel, as he flew towards the gleaming hull of the Farthership, Frog riding upon his back. “It’s looking good, by gosh!”
“Bragons! Take aim!” shouted Frog, as they came within firing distance. “And make sure you’ve got the shooty end of your guns pointed at the ship!”
“For Kingdomland!” cried Susan.
“For our continued survival!” added Old ’n’ Graham.
“For… Actually, I think that covers it,” added Nigel.
“Fire!” Frog yelled. The bragons opened fire and their sunder-beams streaked through the air, battering and scoring the Farthership’s hull. The bragons soared along the underside of the ship as fire and sparks spewed from gashes in the hull.
“Do your thing, Basil Rathbone!” Frog jammed his invincible sword into the hull, slicing through the metal like it was turnip soup. More sparks spat out from inside as Nigel swooped away.
“And that’s how you bring the mightiness!” Frog cried. He glanced back and caught sight of movement along the rim of the Farthership’s hull. Black saucers, ten or more of them, darting through the air towards the bragons.
“King Kroak’s got his own traceships!” Frog cried. “Bumdrops!”
“Bragons, beware, by gosh!” shouted Nigel.
The bragons barely had time to wheel around as the traceships’ sunder-beams lit up the sky. The agile bragons ducked and weaved as best they could, but they weren’t all fast enough. In the first volley, six bragons fell from the sky and plunged down into the Inbetween.
“Yoiks…” uttered Frog, as he watched the bodies fall. “Everyone – split up! Stay close to the Farthership!”
The bragon army scattered, spiralling in every direction, swooping up and over the top of the Farthership, frantically boasting to maintain the right level of inflation.
“Here they come again, by golly!” yelled Susan. Frog looked back. The traceships had pursued them over the top of the hull.
“They’re gaining on us!” cried Old ’n’ Graham. “We’re doomed!”
“Doomed shmoomed! Just be ready with your sunder-guns – I’m going to distract them with my skills!” cried Frog. “Nigel, slow down! Let the traceships catch us up!”
“Catch us up? Oh poo,” sighed Nigel. He tucked in his wings and let out an almighty burp. Susan and Old ’n’ Graham glanced back as Nigel halted in mid-air.
“Perfect,” grinned Frog, as the traceships soared over his head. With that, he pushed off Nigel’s back with his mighty legs – and launched himself into the air.
“WHUF!” he cried, landing atop one of the traceships with a thud. He bounced and skittered along the ship’s surface, digging his sword into the metal and gouging a great hole out of the hull. Then he drew his sunder-gun and blasted the exposed machinery within.
“Eat the defeat! EAT it!” he roared. “I am The Mighty Frog!”
Explosions rocked the traceship and it listed in the air, smoke and fire spewing out from inside. As it careered out of control, Frog leaped on to another traceship, plunging Basil Rathbone’s blade into the hull. He gouged and blasted again, before an almighty hop carried him on to a third. As he hacked and blasted wildly, the other traceships broke off their attack.
“Nigel!” cried Susan, as the bragon army regrouped. “Now’s our chance, by golly!”
“Then fire!” Nigel declared. “Fire! Fire!”
And fire the bragons did. Within moments, the remaining traceships were sent crashing on to the Farthership’s surface or plummeting into the Inbetween.
“I’ll smash you to bits and pieces!” Frog roared, slashing away at the final traceship.
The panicked pilot flew his burning ship high into the air, looping and whirling to shake off its determined passenger. Frog dug in his sword and held on.
“Frog!” cried Nigel, pursuing the trail of smoke and fire into the sky. “Jump, by gosh! The ship is going to—”
