Chapter Six

Bad news

Thick black smoke poured out, sending the fire alarm and sprinkler systems into full-on panic-overdrive mode,

SPRAAAAAY!

DRIIII-IIIING!

and Harvey’s overalls were soaked – for the second time that day.

Yargal scraped a bit of gunk off the label above the ‘Start’ button on the pudding maker.

‘DO NOT PRESS RED BUTTON IF FOOD TRAY IS EMPTY’, it read.

‘Whoops,’ said Yargal, sympathetically. ‘Good job I’m the cook, and you’re not!’ Then, looking around the galley she added ‘I think I can just about scrape together enough food to make a small pizza for lunch.’

Following her gaze around the filthy, food-splattered room, Harvey didn’t like to think what she might actually scrape up. But he left her to it and waddled off soggily to put on another set of clothes. At this rate he’d be wearing his school uniform by lunchtime.

(If you’re one of those bright sparks who don’t miss much, then you’re probably wondering why Harvey’s got his school clothes with him.

If you’re not, or, if you already know, then you can skip the next bit.

Harvey was wearing his school uniform when he accidentally applied for the job of Captain of the Toxic Spew. He picked up a message from aliens on the computer in his bedroom, but he couldn’t understand it because it looked like this:

But that didn’t stop him replying – and getting transported onto the command bridge of the Toxic Spew – still in his school uniform.)

When he’d been on Earth, and captain of the Highford All Stars, Harvey often had to break bad news to his team. Like when their goalie got stolen by another club, and when their best striker broke his toe and couldn’t play for the rest of the season, and worst of all, when his mum accidentally dyed their kit bubblegum pink.

So when he got back to the bridge he took a deep breath and courageously announced, ‘There’s nothing left to eat except a small pizza.’

‘Oh good grief!’ gulped Gizmo tragically.

‘Whatever you do, don’t tell Scrummage,’ warned Maxie.

‘Don’t tell Scrummage what?’ asked Scrummage walking onto the bridge, the doors schwooshing open and closing automatically as he did so.

Bad taste

There was an awkward silence, broken by Yargal arriving, and the doors doing the schwooshing thing again. Yargal was carrying a pitifully small pizza – actually it was a dangerously small pizza. She was quaking so much she nearly dropped it. Snuffles, the ship’s huge Hazard Hunting Hound, lolloped along beside her, drooling hopefully, his huge shark-like teeth drenched in saliva.

‘I know it’s rather small, but it’s packed with flavour!’ she quavered, and taking a deep breath went on. ‘It’s fried asparagus (only slightly rotten), soggy Brussels sprouts, bacon-flavoured ice cream, and burnt sweetcorn slop, topped with squished bananas, crispy burnt marshmallows and hot chillies smothered in chocolate. And there’s a sloppy orange and cheese stuffed crust!’ she finished despairingly.

Scrummage looked slowly from the pizza to Yargal and back again. ‘Is that all there is for lunch?!’ he snarled, going an alarming shade of dark purple.

‘No, that’s all there is to eat – at all!’ stated Maxie.

‘And it’s for everyone,’ growled Gizmo pointedly at Scrummage.

Harvey was just about to give up his share of the pizza when the computer bleeped cheerfully.

‘Captain,’ it said, ‘I’ve had a brilliant idea.’

Phew! thought Harvey, who was becoming distinctly worried by the way Scrummage and Gizmo were glaring at each other … hungrily.

The computer continued brightly. ‘Why not throw some of the crew off the ship? Then there’ll be more pizza for those who are left!’

‘WHAT!?’ spluttered Harvey, horrified.

An astonishingly shocking row immediately erupted.

(It was so bad, I couldn’t put all of it here. I’ve just kept some of the least unpleasant bits.)

‘You can’t throw me off! I’m the only one who can fly the ship!’ yelled Maxie fiercely.

Gizmo grabbed Snuffles menacingly by the collar. ‘The hound can go for a start! He’s not exactly useful!’

‘Yes he is!’ cried Yargal hotly, thwacking Gizmo with her tentacle. ‘He does a very important job sniffing out dangerous garbage and he’s staying!’

‘All right, what about you, then?’ retorted Gizmo.

‘You can’t get rid of me!’ wailed Yargal. ‘I’m the only one who can cook … or deal with any medical emergencies.’

‘Well, we need Harvey,’ argued Maxie ‘Because he’s:

a) a good leader and planner,

b) the captain, and

c) the only one who can stop Gizmo and Scrummage from killing each other.’

‘Maybe he should let them,’ suggested the computer, ‘then there’d be two less to feed!’

‘Computer! That’s enough!’ snapped Harvey.

‘Looks like it’s you two then,’ said Maxie glowering at Gizmo and Scrummage, pushing up her sleeves and advancing on them threateningly.

‘Maxie!’ barked Harvey.

‘I say Scrummage goes!’ yelled Gizmo. ‘He eats more than everyone else put together!’

Scrummage’s hands flew round Gizmo’s throat, throttling him.

Harvey leapt between them. ‘PACK IT IN!’ he bawled. ‘No one is throwing anyone off the ship! And computer, butt out!’

‘I was only trying to help!’ it snipped, bleeping off in a massive hissy fit.

The I.S.S.

Harvey took a deep breath and calmly asked Maxie where the nearest place was where they could get some food. There was a moment’s silence while she checked on the ship’s 3D star map.

‘The I.S.S.,’ she replied.

Harvey couldn’t believe his ears! ‘The International Space Station?!’ he exclaimed. If the I.S.S. was nearby then they must be close to Earth and he could go home!

‘Er, no,’ said Maxie confused. ‘I.S.S. stands for Intergalactic Super Store. It’s called Waitless.

Harvey was gutted. But, remembering he was the captain, he pulled himself together and ordered Maxie to plot the course.

‘The quickest way to get there is through a black hole,’ she replied casually.

‘What?!’ cried Harvey.

(Harvey might be from a planet that no one in Galaxy 43b has ever heard of, but even he knows that if you go into a black hole you’ll die from ‘spaghettification’ and being stretched ultra-supa-mega-nova thin!)

‘It’ll take ages to get there if we don’t,’ whined Maxie.

Four pairs of hungry eyes and three anxious googly ones stared at Harvey – dangerously.

Maxie’s hands hovered above the flight controls.

‘So, Captain, what are we going to do?’