Chapter Three

Fluttering vomit!

There was an ominous explosion and the end of the hose shot off the Ultrawave 3.2 Vacuum Pump, spewing foul smelling toxic gloop everywhere.

KERSPLAT!

Half the control room, and most of Harvey, was plastered in slimy gunk, and a huge dollop of goo-covered space junk crashed onto the floor.

‘Whatever you do, don’t lick your lips!’ warned Scrummage urgently, who had (remarkably) managed to stay clear of the mess.

‘Space gloop is horribly toxic and if you swallow any your guts will fill with gas and you’ll blow up like a balloon!’ he added. Then, eyeing the pile of trash on the floor he cried, ‘Fluttering vomit! No wonder the hose got blocked!’

Harvey surveyed the heap of garbage. An odd round lump caught his eye. Cautiously he gave it a tap with his foot. It rolled.

‘It’s a football!’ he exclaimed in disbelief, but through firmly clenched teeth. Harvey really missed football. Back home he was used to playing every single day, but he hadn’t had a kick-about since he’d left Earth and stopped being the captain of the Highford All Stars and become the captain of the Toxic Spew instead.

(You might be wondering how he went from being the captain of a football team to being the captain of a spaceship … and I don’t blame you.

But, sorry, I still haven’t got time to explain.)

‘How on Earth did a football get into outer space?’ wondered Harvey.

(I hate to be picky. But that is a ridiculous question.

Because, obviously, the football couldn’t be both on Earth and in outer space at the same time.)

There was another smaller round object in the junk.

Harvey peered at it. ‘Is that a tennis ball?’

Scrummage examined it closely. ‘Flickering chunder!’ he yelped, panic-stricken. ‘That’s the planet Microscopica Minor – the tiniest planet in the Entire Known Universe, and Beyond. We’re going to have to put that back. We’ll get into terrible trouble if the Intergalactic Traffic Police find out we’ve sucked that up!’

Anxiously he prodded around to see what else they’d vacuumed aboard by mistake.

‘That’s the rear-end grill of a subsonic head gasket,’ he announced, pointing to a rusty bit of metal that had broken off another spaceship. ‘If I clean that up it might be useful! And look!’ he cried excitedly, picking up a bit of tatty old computer equipment. ‘That’s the Wi-Fi control panel from the Toxic Spew! Gizmo will be well chuffed!’

‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ said Harvey in disbelief, keeping his lips as still as possible.

(Which is actually incredibly difficult. And, in the interests of being accurate, I should probably say that what he actually said was ‘Leez tell ne you’re yoking.’)

Scrummage goes all soppy

The rest of the junk was mostly pretty unidentifiable except for a couple of empty pizza boxes and what looked like a large bright orange egg. It was cracked. Actually, it was in the middle of cracking, and right before their very eyes.

‘Er … Scrummage,’ said Harvey nervously, ‘what’s that?’

(Look, I’m sorry to keep interrupting, but I don’t want to suggest that Harvey is the nervous type. It’s just that in the short time he’s been on the Toxic Spew, he’s learnt to be wary of any alien life forms you find in space trash.

You know, like poisonous pink killer maggots from Venomoid Flux who inject you with poison, melt your insides and suck up your innards like soup.

You’ve got to admit, he’s got a point.)

As he looked at the egg, Scrummage’s face softened and went all soppy. ‘Ahhhhh,’ he cooed. ‘It’s a baby Gordonzola … and it’s hatching!’ Gently he scooped it up. ‘I’m going to keep it,’ he announced, adding proudly, ‘I’m going to call it Gordon!’

Harvey was just about to ask what a Gordonzola was and whether it was actually wise to keep one, when Yargal arrived, trembling with exhaustion.

‘Captain, it really is urgent!’ she panted.

(Since the story has just got to a quite interesting bit, you’d probably prefer it if I told you more about the Gordonzola at another time, wouldn’t you?

That’s the problem with you Earth people. You’re just not really interested in other life forms, are you?)

A dribble of space gloop was just oozing between Harvey’s lips so he dashed off to his quarters to clean up, promising Yargal he’d meet her on the bridge afterwards. Scrummage gently put the Gordonzola, still in its egg, safely out of harm’s way, and set about trying to fix the hose back onto the Ultrawave 3.2 Vacuum Pump.

Yargal sighed wearily and slithered off again. Even though she hurried straight to the bridge as fast as her slippery sucky foot would let her, and she didn’t stop to:

• shower, or

• change her uniform, or

• grab a handful of jellybeans (like Harvey did, from the machine in his quarters), he actually got back to the bridge before she did.

‘Captain,’ she puffed, finally catching up with him, ‘I have … something terrible … to tell you …’

But before she could finish, Scrummage radioed up and interrupted her.

(I bet you’re desperate to know what Yargal needs to tell Harvey. Well, you’re just going to have to wait until the next chapter.

Bad luck.)