Free Bumageddon: The Final Pongflict by Andy Griffiths Page A

‘You’re nice. You don’t need a spare, do you?’
    Zack’s bum bristled. ‘No, he’s pretty right for the moment, thanks,’ it said.
    â€˜You’re lucky to have an owner like him,’ said the bum.
    â€˜True,’ said Zack’s bum. ‘But he’s even luckier to have a bum like me.’
    Zack glanced at Eleanor. She seemed even sadder than before.
    â€˜We’d better get some sleep,’ said the bum. ‘We have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.’
    â€˜Sleep?’ said Zack’s bum. ‘With tyrannosore-arses, tricerabutts, giant stinkants and poopasaurs out there . . . I’m not going to sleep a wink.’
    â€˜Good!’ said their guide. ‘Then you’re on guard duty. Keep the fire burning and whatever you do, don’t fall asleep. Understand?’
    â€˜There’s not much chance of that,’ said Zack’s bum.
    â€˜What, not much chance of you understanding or not much chance of you falling asleep?’ said their guide.
    â€˜Ha ha, very funny,’ said Zack’s bum. ‘Goodnight.’
    Zack, Ned and Eleanor hunkered down on their bumnut-leaf beds and were asleep within minutes.
    Five minutes later the guide bum dozed off.
    And, five minutes after that, so did Zack’s bum.

CHAPTER 37
STINKANT-NAPPED
    I t was dark when Zack awoke.
    He blinked a few times and tried to remember where he was. He had been so tired that he hardly even remembered falling asleep. One moment he’d been studying Eleanor’s sad face across the smoke of the campfire and the next moment . . . well . . . now he was lying in pitch darkness.
    He shut his eyes tightly and opened them again.
    He’d had a dream, he remembered that much.
    A crazy dream.
    He’d dreamed that the fire had gone out and thata gigantic red stinkant had picked him up in its pincers and carried him off to an underground stinkant nest.
    As Zack remembered his dream it seemed so vivid that he could actually hear the scuttling and digging noises the stinkants made. And he could smell the dank earth of the underground nest and feel stinkant juice on his hands.
    Where was the fire? he wondered.
    As they’d been setting up camp the previous evening their guide bum had been at great pains to point out the importance of fire in protecting them from the night-time predators of the prehistoric world. But now the fire was completely out.
    He looked up.
    Before he’d gone to sleep there’d been a stunning canopy of stars above them.
    Now there was nothing.
    No fire.
    No stars.
    No sky.
    What was going on?
    Zack became aware of a pain around his waist. A dull, aching pain. The sort of pain that you might have felt if you’d been picked up by, say, a pair of giant stinkant pincers . . .
    Oh no, thought Zack. ‘Eleanor?’ he said. ‘Are you awake?’
    â€˜Zack?’ said Eleanor groggily. ‘What happened to the fire?’
    â€˜I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,’ said Zack.
    â€˜What now?’ said Eleanor.
    â€˜I think we’ve been stinkant-napped,’ said Zack. ‘We may be in great danger.’
    The scuttling sounds grew louder. Whatever was making them was definitely coming closer.
    â€˜Have you got a match?’ said Zack.
    â€˜Yeah,’ said Eleanor. ‘Hang on.’
    Eleanor struck the match.
    â€˜Uh-oh,’ said Eleanor as the tiny yellow glow confirmed Zack’s worst fears. ‘I think you’re right.’
    Zack nodded as he looked around. They were in an underground chamber with rough-hewn rock walls. Just the two of them. His bum was missing.
    So was Ned.
    And so was their guide.
    â€˜How do we get out of here?’ said Eleanor, striking another match.
    â€˜Same way we got in, I guess,’ said Zack.
    â€˜And how was that?’ said Eleanor.
    â€˜I don’t know,’ said Zack. ‘I was asleep. Sort