‘WHAT IS THAT AWFUL NOISE?’ said Hils.
‘I DON’T KNOW,’ I said.
But I did know. I knew because I had heard it before. It was Peter. Playing the bagpipes.
‘IT’S PETER,’ I said.
‘WHO IS PETER?’ said Hils.
‘THAT IS PETER,’ I said, turning around and pointing at Peter as he crested the hill at the end of the quarry. He was playing the bagpipes.
I was pleased to see Peter but I didn’t think that one Iraqi bagpiper was going to be much help against fifty charging Stinkly Wrinklys.
‘HILS. I WAS TOO BUSY LOOKING AT PETER AND I FORGOT THAT THE STINKLY WRINKLYS ARE STILL CHARGING AT US BUT THE STINKLY WRINKLYS ARE STILL CHARGING AT US.’
I turned and looked at the charging Stinkly Wrinklys.
Suddenly they stopped charging.
Why had they stopped charging? Had I stopped them? I did have a moderately angry look on my face. Maybe they’d seen my moderately angry look and had realised that I was not a person to be trifled with and that had made them stop? Yes, I think I had stopped them. I kept staring at the Stinkly Wrinklys with a moderately angry look. They kept not charging. Yes, it was definitely me that had stopped them.
‘Look,’ said Hils.
‘Where?’
‘Behind you.’
‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘I’ve stopped the Stinkly Wrinklys with my moderately angry look. If I turn away, they’ll start charging again.’
‘Negative. You have not stopped them.’
I really thought I had.
‘I didn’t think I had,’ I said.
I looked.
There, behind me, was the real reason the Stinkly Wrinklys had stopped charging.