24
Meeting the Menu

‘You gots good food for dinosaurs?’

‘Dinosaurs?’ The café owner rubbed his hands together…or his front tentacles, anyway. He was the most withered octopus Boo had ever seen. He looked like he’d been left on the line to dry with the rats for the Dried Rat Surprise. A third tentacle held a notebook and another a pen, while the others served as feet. He blinked at the dinosaurs. ‘They look like poodles to me.’

‘They’re rare dinosaur poodles,’ explained Princess Princess quickly, glaring at Mug. ‘Much juicier than ordinary poodles. And bigger, of course. I’m Queen

Splendifera of Yukke. Our roast dinodoodles are the most delicious thing in the universes. But we need to keep them nice and fat for the Greedle.’

The café owner’s expression cleared. ‘Ah, of course. I am happy to serve you, glorious Queen. Serving you and your poodles will be almost as good as serving the dear Greedle himself! Oh, it makes me so happy!’

He does look happy, thought Boo. He’s the happiest octopus I’ve ever seen. His smile looks like it’s been painted on. ‘No problem, Your Majesty, Your Poodleships. Our café prides itself on perfect food for any species! Would your dinowhat’sits care to read a menu?’

‘I’ll read it for them,’ said Yesterday.

‘You gots zombie menu?’ rumbled Mug.

‘Naturally! Does sir prefer his food wriggling, bouncy or in need of a good thumping?’

‘What he say?’ Mug turned to Boo.

‘HE SAID DO YOU WANT TO THUMP YOUR FOOD?’

Mug brightened. ‘Lots of thumping good.’

The café’s…nice, thought Boo. Nice was the perfect word for it, no matter what Princess Princess said. Nice round tables, with nice spotted tablecloths, in a nice paved square surrounded by nice stone buildings. There were seats designed for a whole range of species: big low stools that the poodlesaurs could squat over; a furry cushion for Mug; a high stool perfect for helping a werewolf puppy get his nose above the table; plus four-legged chairs for Yesterday and Princess Princess.

It was the happiest town he’d ever seen. Happy creatures sitting in the sun, all smiling at each other. Happy giant earwigs, munching what looked like a newspaper pizza; happy humans eating giant glasses of fruit salad and yoghurt; a happy purple rhinoceros wallowing in the town pond, munching long green strands of goo; and what looked like a big mutated fly perched on one of the red rooftops, slurping what smelt to Boo like a doo doo sorbet. It looked like it was a happy fly too, despite its long fangs and twisted antennae.

All too happy. Every single one has to be a bogey, thought Boo, under the control of the Greedle.

The wind didn’t whisper through the trees here. Instead it wheedled its way around the houses. Every time he let his mind relax he could hear it again: ‘Oh, I do love the Greedle. I’d do anything for the Greedle. The lovely, lovely Greedle…’

How many different bogeys live here, wondered Boo, from how many different universes? And every single one of them under the Greedle’s control. There was even a big sign on the road. ‘Welcome,’ it said, ‘to Happytown.’ And then in even bigger letters, with little hearts and flowers all around them: ‘We love the Greedle!’

The sign smelt like boiled eggs and toast, the most delicious boiled eggs in the universes.

It had been a nice walk here too. Once past the farmhouse and the spaghetti and popcorn fields there’d been bubblers along the road, bubbling out rat-and-beetle-flavoured cordial, as well as what Princess Princess said was ‘a quite delicious cold asparagus soup’ and something Yesterday just called, ‘mmmmmm’. There’d even been a bubbler with strange wriggling things in it for Mug.

Only the dinosaurs were still hungry.

Boo gazed at them, pink and fuzzy, squatting next to the table with blue-spotted napkins on their knees. His Expedition was supposed to be strange, but not as weird as this. He should be battling bogeys to get to the Greedle’s fort or castle, not sitting in a café with a mob of dinosaur poodles waiting for the menu.

He looked up at the café-owning octopus. ‘Um…could you tell us the way to the Greedle’s place?’ he asked.

The octopus nodded its head politely, which meant that the rest of its body nodded too. ‘Of course, Your Poodleship.’ He bent confidentially towards them. ‘You will find the Greedle’s Spa and Holiday Camp just two days’ walk down the road…or scamper in your case, Your Poodleship,’ he added to Boo. ‘We have been quite worried the past few weeks. Happytown and my café are devoted to helping bogeys—like Her Majesty here—deliver supplies to the dear, dear Greedle. But you are the first supplies from another universe we’ve seen since, oh, the harvest party last month.’

Or since the dinosaurs killed the Greedle, thought Boo.

‘What you harvesting?’ asked Mug, moving his left foot further away from Roary, who was still looking at it hungrily.

The waiter shrugged, which did interesting things to his tentacles. ‘I can’t remember. There is always a harvest of some sort. Maybe it was the green jellybean harvest or the sponge cake with passionfruit icing harvest. We have so many parties too. All thanks to the dear Greedle. Where else in the universes can one live so happily as here?’ He waved three tentacles gaily. ‘But that reminds me. Your food. Your food! Your menus will be here directly.’

He loped off towards the nearest doorway.

‘Spa and Holiday Camp?’ muttered Yesterday, as the waiter moved out of earshot. ‘Snazpt!’ she added to Massive, who was sniffing Mug’s other foot. Mug carefully moved his cushion further away.

‘The dear Greedle,’ snorted Princess Princess. ‘I don’t think so. They’ll say he has a sweet little kitten next.’

Boo’s tummy rumbled. Kittens—yum! Mum made the best stir-fried kitten and bok choi in Sleepy Whiskers, as well as her famous ice cream.

For a second he felt guilty even taking the time to sit here. But the dinosaurs needed to eat before they travelled any further. Soon, Mum, soon, he thought.

‘Excuse me, Your Poodleship, but we are your menu for today.’

Boo glanced down, then stared. Tiny creatures peered up at the table: two fat rats, a ginger kitten with white paws and three mouse-like creatures with long forked tails dappled brown and white. The ginger kitten peered up at him happily, twitching her whiskers. ‘Please choose me, Your Poodleship.’

‘Uh…’ Boo gulped. He’d eaten kitten lots of times. But not one who’d smiled at him first. ‘Er, no thanks.’

‘Oh.’ The kitten looked sorrowful. ‘Why not, Your Poodleship? I guarantee I am the most tender kitten in the universes,’ she added earnestly. ‘All my brothers and sisters have been tender too. The Greedle even ate my cousin Claude.’ The kitten shook its furry head sadly. ‘I wish I had experienced such an honour. But it will still be glorious to be eaten by you, Your Poodleship. For when the Greedle eats you it will be eating me too!’

One of the mouse-creatures scampered up Boo’s leg and hopped onto the table. ‘Squeak, squeak squeak!’ it said temptingly.

Squeak stuck his nose out of the pouch on Boo‘s collar. ‘Squeak!’ he said emphatically.

Boo didn‘t need Yesterday to interpret this time. ‘No, I‘m not going to eat any of the mice,’ he said crossly. ‘Or the kitten. And, no, not you either,’ he added quickly to the rats, who were strutting about showing off their muscles and fat tummies. ‘I—’ He broke off as more creatures approached.

Six sheep and eight woolly lambs frisking about their mothers, a dozen guinea-pig-like creatures with plump shoulders and silver fur…

The leader of the sheep nodded politely. ‘We are the giant economy-sized dinosaur-poodle menu,’ it announced. ‘What would your—‘

‘Scrlkk! Kreelk!’ Massive rose from its stool. Drool dripped from its jaws, but Boo couldn‘t tell whether the dinosaur was about to pounce or objecting to a menu that offered itself for lunch.

Yesterday gestured to Massive. The dinosaur sat. Yesterday took a deep breath. ‘Many, many thanks for your delicious services,’ she said quickly to each of the menu creatures. ‘But we are from the, er, Universe of Yukke, remember. Yukke inhabitants have very special food requirements.’

The sheep bowed its woolly head. ‘Just say what you require, Dear Ladyship. Tender puppies, baby ducks, anything you like roasted, running or,’ it bowed to Mug, ‘zombiefied.’

‘Me want zombie cheese sandwich,’ rumbled Mug.

Boo looked at Mug with admiration. That was quick thinking! It’s so easy to dismiss Mug as dumb, he thought. The big zombie was, well, a bit brain-dissolved at times. But at others he knew exactly what to do.

‘Cheese sandwich for me too,’ he added quickly. ‘But without the zombiefied.’ Squeak could have a crumb of the cheese, he thought.

Princess Princess sighed. ‘Cheese sandwich,’ she agreed. ‘But make sure you cut the crusts off!’

Boo turned to Yesterday. ‘Do dinosaurs like cheese sandwiches?’ he whispered. You’d need a lot of sandwiches to satisfy them, he thought.

Yesterday gave him a look. It was a You are a nice puppy and I like you kind of look with a but you have no idea how the dinosaurs and I have to live on the end. ‘They’ve never tasted cheese sandwiches,’ she said quietly. ‘But I know what they do like. Baaa,’ she said softly to the sheep. ‘Baa, baaa, baa, baaabaa.’

The sheep stared at her.

‘Baa?’

‘Baa,’ said Yesterday firmly.

‘Baa,’ said the sheep resignedly. It baaed an instruction to the rest of the menu creatures. As one they bowed, then trotted back and stood by the café door.

‘How can animals offer themselves to be eaten?’ said Boo wonderingly. (And could he ever eat kittenlicious ice cream again?)

‘The Greedle,’ said Yesterday grimly. ‘He could use his hypnosis on any creature, remember. Maybe that’s why everyone here seems so happy. He made them happy. Even happy to be eaten…’

‘The happiest little town in the universes,’ said Boo slowly.

Yesterday nodded. ‘This really is the Ghastly Other when. But its Ghastliness is…different…’

‘What did you order for the dinosaurs?’ asked Princess Princess curiously.

‘Garbage,’ said Yesterday shortly. ‘That’s what they’re used to eating. I ordered fifteen garbage bins full of scraps, the smelliest they have.’

‘Oh, yuck,’ said Princess Princess. ‘Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck—yuuuurk…’ she added.

The garbage bins had arrived.

SCHOOL FOR HEROES RULE #24

Students are asked not to Wham! Bam!, Pow!a Punch or Zoom! their teachers no matter what rude comments are written on their homework.