Free Novel Read

The (big, fat, totally bonkers) Diary of Pig Page 5


  Duck leads us back to the edge of the Farm. As soon as I glimpses it through the trees, my heart starts to fill up with sad feelings. Even though it has been fun meeting RUSTY and learning lots of bonkers stuff, I can’t help but wish I was back there. Back playing where’s woc? with cow, Name That Fart with Duck and watching Ki-Ki make his strange jewellery.

  I spots Mrs Jingle Jangle. She is sitting all alone on the step of her van. In her hand I can just make out something long and thin – it’s one of Ki-Ki's feathers. She brushes it against the side of her face. Though I can’t hear from this far away, I is pretty sure she’s crying.

  I so wishes everything could just go back to the way it was before.

  I lets out a sad little Piggy sigh, what no one is meant to hear. But of course RUSTY and his super-duper hearing does.

  “YOU SMELL THEM TOO, SOLDIER PIG?” he whispers. “OF COURSE YOU DO. EC’S HAVE A SMELL NO ONE CAN FORGET.”

  I nods. But I can’t smell anything but trees.

  “SOLDIERS. PROCEED FORWARD WITH CAUTION. CHICKENS HAVE THREE-HUNDRED DEGREE VISION. WE DON’T WANT TO BE SPOTTED,” he says. “TIME TO EMPLOY SOME ‘SOFT TREADING’.”

  I does my very best prancy-stepping. My soldier-ness must be improving; I makes much less noise than I did in training. A little way before we reaches the tree RUSTY holds up his paw and stops us. He makes some funny motions. He taps himself on the top of his head, makes a digging motion, then points at his eyes. It’s like he’s doing some strange dance with no music.

  “We’re going to dig in here and observe from a safe distance,” whispers Duck, translating for me.

  This literally means we dig a big hole and sits in it. Well, the hole wouldn’t have to be so big if I didn’t have to fit in it too. Luckily RUSTY is a very fast digger and I is not too bad either. My nose makes a very good shovel.

  Once the hole is finished we gets in and begins our “observation phase”. Duck is too short to see over the top, so I lets him sit on my shoulders. I knows this may still not be 100% safe, but I is still feeling full after this morning’s acorns.

  I stares over at the Old Oak Tree. It looks just like it always has, big and leafy. I can’t see any sign of the EVIL CHICKENS. I starts to feel like maybe we was wrong to have believed Fox. Wrong to have believed that the EVIL CHICKENS is back and is having anything to do with Ki-Ki disappearing.

  But then a strong breeze blows and rustles all the leaves and I catches a glimpse of something hanging from a branch. It looks like a little ladder.

  I follows the ladder up. It goes to a small platform.

  The breeze blows again, this time revealing even more.

  The top of the tree is full of little platforms, and standing on them I can clearly make out some pointy shapes moving around.

  POINTY EVIL CHICKEN SHAPES!!!!!

  “I can see them, I can see them!” I whispers, pointing towards the top of the tree. “There, there! They really is back!!!”

  “THEY SURE ARE, SOLDIER,” growls RUSTY.

  I notices as he speaks he digs his claws into the earth around the top of our hole. He digs them in so hard I is sure I actually see his paws shake. “THEY SURE ARE!” he growls again.

  I looks back at the tree. Now I knows where to look I has no trouble spotting them. One of the platforms is much higher up than the others. Before I even sees it I knows who will be standing there. THE SUPER EVIL CHICKEN.

  It stands proudly on its platform like it’s the most important thing in the whole world. It lets out a loud cluck. All the others stand to attention. The SUPER EVIL CHICKEN swings itself off its platform and, using the little rope ladders what hangs between each one, makes its way down to a long, narrow plank of wood what is nailed to the top of the trunk.

  On the plank stands a lone CHICKEN. Even from this distance, by the way it moves, I can tell it’s a particularly nasty one. It salutes the SUPER EVIL CHICKEN and draws a branch back to show it something round and feathery what is tied to the tree.

  “IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS???” whispers RUSTY.

  I squints hard. The feathery ball is tied up tightly with lots of rope and has a rag tied around its eyes so it can’t see.

  The SUPER EVIL CHICKEN pulls the rag down. I lets out a loud gasp. Duck reaches around and covers my mouth.

  I can’t believe what I is seeing.

  “IT’S KI-KI!!!” I excitedly whispers through Duck‘s wing. “IT’S KI-KI!!!! He’s not in my tummy. He’s up the Old Oak Tree!”

  “At last the concrete proof we need,” says Duck, letting out a sigh of relief. “Pig, you are innocent!”

  I DIDN’T EAT KI-KI! HOORAY!!! HOORAY!!!! This might be the best news I has ever had. In fact I is pretty sure it is – the only thing that’d be better would be to find out I didn’t eat him whilst at the same time eating a turnip-sized acorn.

  I wants to give Duck a huge big hug for being so right. But there isn’t enough room in our hole and I is not sure that soldiers is meant to do hugging.

  I takes another look at Ki-Ki, still not sure I can believe my eyes. My happy heart starts to sink. He may be alive, but he looks terrible. Now I knows where they got the feathers to put in my mouth; poor Ki-Ki is covered in little bald patches. I don’t think they has been feeding him either – he looks much thinner than I remembers. His body is all droopy; the only thing that is holding him up is the ropes what ties him to the tree.

  He lifts his head and mumbles something. I can’t hear what he says, but RUSTY’S amazing ears does.

  “HE SAYS THIS OUTDOOR LIVING IS PLAYING HAVOC WITH HIS COMPLEXION, THAT HIS PORES ARE ALL CLOGGED WITH DIRT AND THAT HE DESPERATELY NEEDS TO EXFOLIATE,” whispers RUSTY, looking rather confused.

  The SUPER EVIL CHICKEN lets out a nasty, loud laugh and tugs the rag back up over his eyes. Ki-Ki's poor head flops back down.

  “So that’s who they’re bribing Fox with,” says Duck, shaking his head.

  “No!” I blurts out. “We can’t let this happen. We has to stop them. I can’t discover I didn’t eat Ki-Ki, only for the EVIL CHICKENS to feed him to Fox!!!”

  “DON’T YOU WORRY; WE’LL BUST OUT THE TURKEY ALL IN GOOD TIME. BUT FIRST WE GOTTA GET TO THE BOTTOM OF SOMETHING MUCH BIGGER,” says RUSTY, turning to Duck. “I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT SOMETHING HERE DOESN’T ADD UP. IF THEY CAME BACK SOLELY TO TERMINATE SOLDIER PIG, HOW COME THEY’RE STILL HERE? WHY’VE THEY GONE TO ALL THE EFFORT OF BUILDING SUCH AN ELABORATE STRUCTURE IN THE TREE? AND WHY ARE THEY BRIBING Fox TO STAY AWAY? THIS WHOLE THING SMELLS VERY FISHY TO ME.”

  I don’t get it. First Duck can smell fish, now RUSTY. I’ve got a bigger nose than both of them – how come I can’t smell fish too?

  E.E.G. (Evil Evidence Gathered)

  Hello.

  The EVIL CHICKENS is more evil than I thinks it is ever possible to be. Honestly, you couldn’t make stuff like this up. Even if you were the world’s best maker-upper.

  The one thing the EVIL CHICKENS is not good at though is flying. To get down from the tree they has made this special platform what they lowers themselves to the floor on – they can then pull themselves up on it when they wants to go back up.

  We watches as they all comes down, the SUPER EVIL CHICKEN squawks some instructions and they all marches off towards the Farm.

  “OK!” says RUSTY. “TIME FOR A LITTLE LIGHT RECONNAISSANCE!”

  “He means we follow them to see what they are up to,” whispers Duck helpfully in my ear.

  “JUST ONE THING WE GOTTA ADDRESS BEFORE WE SHIP OUT: WOODLAND CAMO WORKS IN THE WOODS, BUT IT AIN’T GONNA CUT IT IN THE YARD. WE GOTTA HAVE A LITTLE WASH AND BRUSH UP.”

  “But if we just looks like us, doesn’t we have more chance of being spotted?” I asks. I quite likes being covered in dirt.

  “NEGATIVE, SOLDIER PIG. YOU LOOK LIKE A FOREST, AND I DON’T SEE NO FORESTS IN THE YARD! IT’S TIME TO USE THE SKILLS I’VE TAUGHT YOU. YOU CAN FART LIKE A NINJA, NOW IT’S TIME TO ACT LIKE ONE!”

  So, before we heads to
the yard, we sneaks over to the Sheeps’ Pond and washes the dirt off.

  We has to be careful to avoid the Sheeps – we doesn’t want them to start shouting “CARNIVAAAR” again and alerting the EVIL CHICKENS or Mrs Jingle Jangle that we is coming. Luckily they is over in the corner itching themselves on the remains of the Trocket what me and Duck crashed there a while ago.

  Once we are all clean RUSTY takes a stick and starts to draw a map of the Farm in the mud.

  “RIGHT, LISTEN IN, SOLDIERS. I SAY WE ENTER THE Farm HERE,” he says, pointing at a place on his mud-map, “THROUGH THIS GATE. THEN, USING THE OLD BARN AS COVER, WE MOVE AROUND TO HERE – THE cow’s SHED. SHE’S A FRIENDLY, RIGHT?”

  “Yes, lovely,” I says, “very friendly.”

  “OK, WE’LL USE HER SHED TO ASCERTAIN THE ENEMY POSITION. THEN WE’LL PLAN FURTHER. RIGHT, FALL IN BEHIND ME. AND REMEMBER: STEALTH! STEALTH! STEALTH!”

  We carefully creeps over to the gate. RUSTY quietly opens it, looks around and then makes a quick dash to the Old Barn. He presses himself up against it and signals for us to follow. Duck and I dashes across and lines ourselves up next to him.

  “OK,” he whispers, “WE ONLY GOT A SHORT DISTANCE TO GET TO THE cow. BUT IT’S OPEN GROUND. WE’RE GONNA BE IN PLAIN SIGHT. YOU’RE GONNA NEED TO KEEP YOUR WITS ABOUT YOU, SOLDIERS!”

  I is not sure what “wits” is, and I is even more sure I doesn’t have any to keep with me. Duck nods, so I guesses he must have some. I decides to pretend I does too.

  We creeps to the edge of the Old Barn and peers around it. I can see cow in her shed. She is busy eating some hay. I is so pleased to see her; I has really missed her and her funny words.

  RUSTY sniffs the air and then makes a dash across to her shed. Once he is safely behind it he signals to us. Duck goes next; I has to say he does look very funny when he waddles so fast.

  Finally it’s my turn. I takes a deep breath and, doing my very best “soft stepping”, runs as fast as I can towards them. But just as I is halfway across I hears the door to Mrs Jingle Jangle’s van open. RUSTY signals for me to get down. I presses myself as flat as I can against the ground.

  I peeks across to see what Mrs Jingle Jangle is doing. She is standing at the door carrying a large basket of very colourful washing. It’s piled up so high that I can’t see her face, which I really hopes means she can’t see mine. I can hear her voice though. She is singing a slow song.

  She carefully starts to walk down the steps of her van. The problem is that as she steps down, the basket gets lower and her head gets higher. Any minute now I is sure her eyes is going to rise above it and she is going to spot me.

  “Oh, my Moonstone,” I hears her sing, “how I miss you-ooh-oooh. Feels like my heart has broken in two-ooo-oooh.”

  I knows this is not a happy song, even though I only understands the word “Moonstone”. I presses myself even harder into the ground. I looks over at RUSTY. I can tell from the look in his eyes he is as worried as I is.

  She’s going to spot me and call Deathra again!

  My heart starts beating so loudly it’s all I can hear.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! it goes. BOOM! BOOM! BRRRRING! BRRRRING! BRRRRING! BRRRRRING!

  That’s funny, I thinks, what’s going on inside me? But then I realizes the sound is not coming from inside me, it’s coming from inside Mrs Jingle Jangle’s van. I looks across just in time to see her put down her washing basket and go back inside.

  RUSTY frantically signals for me to get up. I scrambles to my feet and, forgetting all my ninja-ness, runs over to him and Duck.

  “PHEW!” he says. “SAVED BY THE BELL ’EY, SOLDIER PIG. GOOD JOB HER PHONE RANG!”

  I has no idea what a phone is, I is just SO happy that it did whatever it did and I wasn’t spotted. I lets out possibly the longest sigh of relief I has ever done.

  “god???” I hears cow’s voice say. I looks up and there she is, gazing down at RUSTY, looking very confused.

  “MORNIN’ MA’AM,” says RUSTY, politely saluting her.

  “DOG,” I says. She really does have the funniest way of getting her words the wrong way round.

  “pig!” she cries. “licker pig!!!!”

  “He’s no killer, cow. We’ve got proof!” whispers Duck.

  “AFFIRMATIVE, MA’AM. WE HAVE VERIFIED COUNTER-INTELLIGENCE. SOLDIER PIG IS IN THE CLEAR,” continues RUSTY. “BUT NOW WE HAVE ANOTHER ESCALATING SITUATION WE NEED TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF. A CODE RED. WE NEED TO REPURPOSE YOUR SHED AS A HIDEOUT.”

  “roger that!” says cow. I can’t believe it. First Duck, now cow! How does they both know all this soldier stuff?

  We all tucks into cow’s shed. It’s a bit of a squeeze – the shed is only really big enough for her. Duck hops up on to her back so he can get a clear view of the yard over her gate.

  “I have eyes on the enemy,” he whispers down to us. “They’ve all gathered in Pig House.”

  “WHAT! How dare they? First they makes it look like I is eating Ki-Ki. Now they is taking over my house!

  “green potatoes!!!!” says cow. Green potatoes means VERY BAD in Pig; they can make us extremely sick.

  “They’re having a meeting,” says Duck, “but we’re too far away for me to clearly hear what they are saying. Can you, RUSTY?”

  RUSTY pricks up his ears. “NEGATIVE, I’M PICKING UP TOO MUCH BACKGROUND NOISE. NO PROBLEM, THOUGH. I’VE GOT AN IDEA.” Quick as a flash he dashes over to the Sandals’ shed. A couple of minutes later he returns carrying two plastic flowerpots tied together with a long piece of string. He sneaks over to my house and quietly slips one of the flowerpots underneath my door. He brings the other one back to us.

  “ear listener!” says cow excitedly. She’s right. Through the flowerpot we can clearly hear everything the EVIL CHICKENS is saying. AMAZING. We all gathers around and listens.

  “HOW’S YOUR FOWL, SOLDIERS?” says RUSTY. “I AIN’T HEARD IT SPOKEN IN A VERY LONG TIME.”

  I tells him I doesn’t speak or understand it.

  “No problem. I’ll translate,” says Duck. The SUPER EVIL CHICKEN clears its throat and begins to talk. Duck repeats back all it says.

  “FELLOW CHICKENS, OUR JOURNEY HERE HAS BEEN A LONG ONE. FIRST WE WERE UNJUSTLY ROCKETED INTO SPACE BY THAT RIDICULOUSLY SMELLY, FAT LUMP OF A CREATURE THEY CALL A PIG.”

  “KLA! KLA! KLA! SILLY, STINKY PIG!” the rest all chants.

  “BUT, THANKS TO CHICKEN SIX’S BRAVE, FIERY SACRIFICE, WE CHANGED THE TRAJECTORY OF THE ROCKET-SHED HE SENT US OFF IN, AND MADE IT BACK DOWN HERE TO EARTH.”

  “HUZZAH, CHICKEN SIX! WE’LL NEVER FORGET YOU!” they all cheer.

  “AND OF COURSE, LET’S NOT FORGET CHICKEN FIVE AND CHICKEN EIGHT. WITHOUT THEM WE WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ABLE TO KEEP THE FARMERS FROM EATING US, LET ALONE STUFF THEM SO FULL OF EGGS THAT WE COULD ROLL THEM OUT OVER THE OCEAN WHILE THEY WERE SLEEPING.”

  “FIVE AND EIGHT! HUZZAH! HURRAH!” they all cheer again.

  The mention of the Farmers sends a shiver down my back. I will never forget the day I found out they wanted to eat me.

  Duck continues to translate:

  “NOW, FRIENDS, WITH OLD FARTY PANTS FINALLY TAKEN CARE OF…”

  “KLA! KLA! KLA!” they all laugh evily.

  “…IT IS TIME TO MOVE ON TO THE SECOND AND FINAL PHASE OF OUR MASTER PLAN. THIS I CALL, ‘ADIOS, OLD LADY, BYE, BYE, OLD BIDDY, GOODBYE, GRANDMA’. YES, WE ‘REMOVE’ THE NEW Farmer AND INSTALL OUR SUPERIOR SELVES AS OWNERS. WE SHALL THEN BE FREE TO DO AS WE PLEASE: EAT EVERYONE’S FOOD, REFUSE TO LAY ANOTHER EGG, POO AS MUCH AS WE WANT ON THE cow AND LIVE THE ROYAL LIFE WE DESERVE. SOON MY DEAR FRIENDS, ALL THIS WILL BE OURS, THIS IS OUR FUTURE, AND NOBODY CAN STOP US! KLA! KLA! KLA!”

  cow lets out an angry snort. I knows how much she hated it when the EVIL CHICKENS used to roost on her back and then poo on it. Who wouldn’t?!

  “IN THIS STINKING FILTH PIT OF A SHED,” continues Duck, listening intently to the flowerpot, “WE HAVE EVERYTHING WE NEED TO SEE THE BATTY OLD BEAN, AN
D HER RIDICULOUS OVER-PAINTED WACKY-WAGON, OFF INTO THE SKY. I AND MY NUMBER TWO HAVE SPENT A LOT OF TIME PREPARING A MOST MAGNIFICENT PLAN. COMRADE NUMBER TWO, WOULD YOU NOW PLEASE EXPLAIN WHY WE HAVE BROUGHT EVERYONE HERE TODAY AND WHAT THEY ARE REQUIRED TO DO?”

  Number Two explains to the rest how they is going to fetch lumps of my old fermented poo – what is round the back of my house – and then along with a battery, which they is going to steal from the radio in Mrs and Mrs Sandals’ shed, build a turbocharged bomb. Once they has made it, they is going to pop it under Mrs Jingle Jangle’s van and then, using a “remote wire”, “detonate it” from the safety of my house.

  “WE WANT THE BOMB BUILT BY THE END OF THE DAY!” Number Two tells the rest. “WE WANT IT READY AND PRIMED TO BLOW HER AWAY TOMORROW MORNING, AROUND BREAKFAST TIME. WE CALCULATE THAT AROUND THIS TIME SHE WILL BE TOO ENGROSSED IN WHATEVER ORGANIC WIND-DRIED GRANOLA NONSENSE SHE EATS TO NOTICE US PLANTING IT.”

  Just as Number Two’s speech finishes, and all the EVIL CHICKENS sets about their task, the door of Mrs Jingle Jangle’s van opens and she comes out with her big basket of washing again. She struggles across to the washing line with it. She looks older than I remembers; her face looks tired and sad. As she hangs up her washing she continues singing her sad Moonstone song.

  First of all she loses her cat, then she loses Ki-Ki, and now she is about to be blown up by the crazy EVIL CHICKENS! Poor, poor Mrs Jingle Jangle.

  I so wish I had learnt about burying my poo before. That way the EVIL CHICKENS would never have been able to build their horrible Pig Poo Bomb. Their Pomb. This is the second time I has made up a word that doesn’t make me laugh. I thinks I might stop with the word making-up thing until all this is over!

  “We has to stop them – we has to stop them right now!” I says.

  “COOL YOUR JETS, SOLDIER PIG. WE WALK OVER THERE AND CONFRONT THE ENEMY CHICKEN AND THERE’S NO WAY Mrs Jingle Jangle AIN’T GONNA HEAR ABOUT IT. THOSE BIRDS CAN KICK UP ONE HELLUVA FUSS WHEN THEY WANT. IF SHE SEES YOU IT’S GAME OVER! NO, I SAY WE GOTTA HIT ’EM WHEN THEY’RE LEAST EXPECTIN’ IT – WHEN THEY’RE UP THAT TREE THINKIN’ THEY’RE SAFE AS HOUSES. CHICKENS GO TO SLEEP WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN AND THEY DON’T WAKE UP TILL IT COMES BACK UP. I FIGURE THAT’S OUR WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY. I SAY WE GO BACK TO THE WOODS AND PLAN.”