15
A Cunning Poodle Plan

Boo sat on the rock by the skinning pool. It was peaceful in the late afternoon glow from the volcano. Most of the other students had finished classes and gone home for the day. The only teacher to be seen was Ms Punch, her ghostly form wafting across the ledge. From here he could see the ancient Heroes sunbaking on the ledge of Rest in Pieces above the school, or racing their wheelchairs down the path.

‘Can’t catch me, you old duffer,’ shrieked Gloria the Gorgeous. She’d attached wheels to her walking frame so she could zip down the path faster. Boo watched as Hamad flung his axe at her. It bashed against the cliff, missing her by inches.

Well, relatively peaceful. The volcano burped, then settled down again.

He had to come up with a Cunning Plan. But how could he when no one had ever returned from the Ghastly Otherwhen to write about it? And he and Yesterday and Mug were the only people who had ever defeated the Greedle.

Boo scratched a flea absently. So what did he know about the Greedle and the Ghastly Otherwhen?

He reached around and snapped the flea between his front teeth, then crunched it slowly. He did know one thing. The Greedle would have told his bogeys to look out for Boo.

The bogeys might well have stopped being bogeys now that the Greedle was dead, but if they didn’t know he was dead, they’d still be on the lookout for anyone werewolfy—and for zombies and girls in tatty leather tunics, too. News of their defeat of the Rabbits must have got back to the Ghastly Otherwhen by now.

Which meant he had to go in disguise. But what disguise would work in the Ghastly Otherwhen?

…And then suddenly he had it—and the ghost of a Cunning Plan too.

The flying pigs were sticking their little snouts into the flowers in the Bigpaws’ garden. Spot sat on her cushion in the living room and stared at Boo. ‘You want me to what?’

‘Give me a poodle haircut,’ repeated Boo. ‘Then dye my fur pink.’

‘But why?’

Boo grinned. ‘It’s a Hero thing.’ Spot won’t

understand, he thought, if I tell her I’m heading into certain death—well, uncertain death—in the Ghastly Otherwhen. The Bigpaws’ daughter was like the pup he’d been before the Greedle invaded and took Mum—an everyday kind of werewolf, happy to play Frisbee and hunt kittens down at the park. But Boo was a different wolf now. And for the first time he really felt he had a Cunning Plan that might work.

What did the Greedle love?

Food.

And what was the most delicious thing in the universes—apart from Mum’s ice cream?

Stuffed poodle! Mug and anyone else who volunteered to invade the Ghastly Otherwhen could disguise themselves as bogeys bringing the Greedle a delicious poodle. That would get them to wherever its headquarters were. They’d rescue Mum and…

Boo gulped. He wasn’t sure about the rest of the Cunning Plan. A Plan that finished ‘…and then get safely home without being torn apart by bogeys’ seemed to lack a few necessary details. It didn’t seem very Cunning, either.

But he couldn’t think of anything else.

‘Can you do it?’ he asked Spot.

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’ve been trimming my own fur for years. Mum won’t let me dye it pink yet though,’ she added regretfully. ‘You do know you have to have a, shudder, bath if I’m going to dye your fur? Two, eeek, baths. One to wet your fur and one to wash the dye out.’

Boo lifted his head proudly. ‘I can take a bath. Even two baths. We Heroes can cope with anything.’

‘So you’re absolutely sure you want to be pink? And have a poodle cut? You’re sure you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure I’m sure I’m sure,’ said Boo, trying to keep the tremor from his voice.

He’d never had his hair dyed before. He’d never had a haircut either. It was something girl pups did, trying to get their fur to curl if theirs was straight or to go straight if it was curly. Some girls even put curlers in their tails, or rubbed in slug slime to make their coat shiny and stay in place.

A good doggie shampoo once a week had been more than enough for Boo.

‘There,’ said Spot, her voice a bit muffled by the scissors in her jaws.

Boo stared at the image in the mirror.

‘Er, it’s very—’

‘Poodley,’ said Spot helpfully.

‘I was going to say pink,’ said Boo.

‘The pink is perfect. You look just like the stuffed poodle Mum cooked for my birthday. And that little tuft on your tail looks cute.’

‘Cute,’ repeated Boo mournfully. He’d spent all his time at the School for Heroes trying not to be cute. And here he was heading off on the greatest Expedition in the history of the school, dyed pink and with a tuft on his curly tail, looking cute.

At least he didn’t look like a Hero. He just hoped he looked like dinner.

How do you get rid of Giant Termite bogeys? Exterminite them.

FROM THE MEMOIRS OF DR VB MUSSELLS, PRINCIPAL