Free Toad Rage by Morris Gleitzman Page B

table.
    First, tell the Major Sponsor about the injustice cane toads were suffering, with special mention of their brains being squeezed out through their ears.
    Then, explain how the sugar industry was partly responsible.
    Finally, persuade the Major Sponsor to make amends by running heaps of TV ads telling humans that cane toads are really very nice once you get to know them.
    Limpy knew it wasn't going to be easy, specially as he didn't speak the Major Sponsor's language.
    Everything would depend on how much he could get across to the Major Sponsor by drawing diagrams on the tablecloth in chocolate mousse and strawberry sauce.
    Limpy tried to look on the bright side.
    Perhaps, he thought hopefully as the trolley clattered to the next table, the girl athlete with the big stick might appear with me in the ads.
    At that moment the girl athlete walked onto the stage.
    For half a second Limpy thought he was dreaming, that the stress was making him see things.
    Then he realized other athletes were walking onto the stage as well. The bloke with the clipboard was introducing them as the athletes who'd been in the presentation. The people at the tables were applauding loudly.
    Limpy would have joined in but for one thing.
    A woman at a nearby table who'd been asleep had just been woken up by the applause. Limpy saw that she wasn't facing the stage. She was facing the dessert trolley.
    Now she was staring.
    Now her eyes were bulging and her mouth was opening wide.
    Now she was screaming.
    Limpy hoped desperately she'd just had a bad dream. He hoped desperately she wasn't screaming at him and Goliath. He hoped desperately she just hated rhubarb pavlova.
    Except she wasn't pointing at the rhubarb pavlova; she was pointing at him and Goliath.
    Other people were looking.
    And yelling.
    Almost certainly not at the rhubarb.
    Limpy felt the trolley jolt and move off at speed. The waiter had grabbed it and was charging out of the restaurant with it.
    As they sped past the Major Sponsor's table, Limpy saw the Major Sponsor frowning at the disappearing trolley. He didn't look like a man who'd want to make amends. Not when he wasn't getting any dessert.
    Limpy peered toward the stage, hoping to catch the girl athlete's eye. She was peering quizzically toward the trolley, but Limpy could tell she couldn't really see what was going on.
    Then a massive jolt nearly flung Limpy into the raspberry pudding as the trolley crashed through some swing doors.
    “Jump!” Limpy yelled at Goliath.
    “I can't,” said Goliath. His voice sounded muffled. Limpy saw this was because his head was in the cream trifle.
    Then Limpy saw something that churned his stomach even more.
    A security guard was running toward them down the corridor with a big snarling black dog on a lead.
    The security guard stopped, crouched down, and suddenly the dog wasn't on the lead anymore.
    With a wet snarl it leapt onto the trolley.
    Limpy pressed himself into the cold glass of the fruit salad bowl and tried desperately to look like a piece of rockmelon.
    If only he could reach Goliath and push him down into the trifle before the dog saw him.
    Too late.
    The dog snatched Goliath in its jaws, jumped off the trolley, and ran down the corridor.
    “Goliath,” screamed Limpy.
    The corridor was full of waiters yelling and bumping into each other. The dog darted through them and disappeared.
    “Goliath,” sobbed Limpy.
    It was no good.
    Goliath wouldn't stand a chance in those huge jaws between those massive yellow teeth.
    Then Limpy heard something.
    A dog barking.
    Outside.
    The brute must have taken Goliath outside to crunch him up.
    Limpy looked wildly around and saw a window in the wall above his head. It was open just a crack. He flung himself at the wall and, helped by the sticky fruit salad syrup on his hands and feet, dragged himself up it.
    He squeezed through the window and launched himself into the darkness.
    When he hit the ground, he was dazed for what felt like ages.
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