The Great Flytrap Disaster Read online

  CONTENTS

  The Old Junk Shop

  Buzz Bombs

  Too Close for Comfort

  The Crow & the Pitcher

  The Rescuers

  Captain Jones

  An Unexpected Meal

  Button Bites Back

  A Brush with the Enemy

  Special Delivery

  Perfect Plans & Sausages

  About the Author

  At the end of the street is an old junk shop. It’s gloomy and shabby and nothing ever happens there. At least, that’s what most people think. . . .

  Among the odds and ends and things of no use, a dusty ship in a bottle sits gathering cobwebs on a shelf. But when the world isn’t watching, a tiny pirate crew comes out to explore.

  And when you’re smaller than a teacup, a junk shop can be a pretty dangerous place. . . .

  Button awoke to a loud noise. He couldn’t quite work out what it was, so he hopped down from his hammock. “What on earth is happening?” he asked, as he climbed through the glass neck of the bottle to see what all the commotion was.

  There is no such thing as a normal day on the shelf. When you are smaller than a pepper shaker, you are often faced with some kind of wild adventure. And while the Pocket Pirates had been enjoying a good long summer, the blazing sun had brought all sorts of problems. As Captain Crabsticks had just discovered, even a gentle morning’s walk past the old books to the candlestick could be filled with deadly terror.

  Button was deafened by a terrible buzzing. Rubbing his tired eyes, he caught sight of his captain. Sword drawn, Captain Crabsticks was battling a fly that was as big as a Labrador would be to me and you.

  Bzzzzzzzzzzzz it droned, as it darted around him. The Captain thrust his sword in its direction. The fly was fast, but the sword hand of the Captain was a good match for it.

  “Away, you blighter. Go on, old chap, shoo.” He darted around, darning needle in hand.

  Button watched, enjoying the entertainment. “Lily, over here!” he shouted. “I’ve not seen a good pirate versus insect swordfight for a while.” His shipmate and best friend, Lily, appeared out of the bottle to join him. The flies and wasps had been driving them crazy and hopefully the Captain’s steel blade would teach them a lesson.

  “How exciting,” gasped Lily.

  Swoosh. One final swash and buckle of the sword sent the giant fly swooping across the back of the shelf, but what happened next was not what they’d expected. By now Uncle Noggin had joined them and the crew stood together watching as the fly crashed straight into a huge spiderweb.

  “Oh, poor old thing,” said the Captain. “I only meant to scare him off.”

  The crew stood together, looking up at the web. It had always been tucked in the corner, but recently seemed to be growing at an alarming rate. Mr. Dregby, the house spider, had been feasting on all the flies which had arrived with the hot weather.

  The four Pocket Pirates watched the poor fly struggle in the sticky silk. Then the spider himself appeared, dancing along the thread to take a look at his prize.

  “Well, well, well. Thank you so much, Captain. How VERY kind of you to deliver breakfast. To be perfectly honest I’m still full from my last meal, but I’m sure he’ll save for later.”

  And with that he darted along the thread, back into the corner.

  “That spider is getting far too big for his boots,” said Button. “And look at the size of that web.”

  “It’s getting closer,” grumbled Uncle Noggin. “It’ll swallow us all up if we’re not careful.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Lily. “There’s not much chance of him swallowing you whole.”

  “Ooooh, how rude,” said Uncle Noggin, giving her a wink and patting his round belly.

  They could still see Mr. Dregby’s large hairy legs. And when Button looked a little closer, he could spy his six eyes still watching them keenly.

  “I think Mr. Dregby’s grown too,” said Lily.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Uncle Noggin. “His web is like an all-you-can-eat buffet at the moment.”

  “Well, at least it’s keeping his belly full,” Button pointed out. “I hate it when he looks at me with hungry eyes. It makes me nervous.”

  Bzzzzzzzzzz. Just then another fly swooped by.

  “Away, you blustering buzz bomb,” cried the Captain, swinging his sword back into action. “That’s enough swashbuckling for now. I suggest we all get on board and think about breakfast.”

  As they returned to the ship, something pattered on the glass bottle above them. Button climbed the mast and perched inside the crow’s nest. It was Mr. Dregby, dangling from a strand of web and dropping on to the bottle, his six eyes peering in at them spookily.

  “He’s never come this close before,” Button shouted down to the crew. “I don’t like it. We’re going to have to deal with him, good and proper.”

  “Haul in the cork!” ordered the Captain. The crew gathered on deck and Button and Lily turned the handle sticking out of the cotton reel. As the thread wound its way in, the cork pulled into place, blocking the entrance to the bottle.

  “Good work, team. We don’t want unwanted guests at the table! Now, I seem to think we have a chunk of boiled egg and a morsel of sausage to split up.”

  “Sounds good,” said Button, his tummy rumbling. “Pirate breakfast is the best meal of the day. Coming right up, Captain.”

  “What is the Captain reading?” asked Lily, watching him from her vantage point on the ship’s deck. He was lying across the pages of a large book at the back of the shelf. As he read he used his sword to underline the words, mumbling to himself.

  “Something about the common house spider,” answered Button, who seemed to be spending most of the day looking out through the telescope from the crow’s nest. “I think it was all that kerfuffle with Mr. Dregby. Got him thinking about things eight-legged.”

  Just then Button spotted Mr. Tooey, the junk shop owner. He was walking down the corridor into the main part of the shop, carrying something heavy. Button took hold of the snail shell that was tied to the mast and blew into it, making a loud, hornlike noise. When the crew heard that sound they knew to act quickly. Jones, the ship’s cat, yowled as he ran for cover, and Lily headed inside the ship to join the Captain and Uncle Noggin. They couldn’t risk being seen.

  Button crouched low in the crow’s nest, eyes on Mr. Tooey who was coming close to the shelf. Too close.

  It always made them nervous when he was near: even the simplest move could change their lives drastically. They lived in fear of a spring cleaning. One time Mr. Tooey had moved everything onto the floor to tidy the shelf, and the baseboard mice had attacked the ship.

  And what was he carrying?

  “It’s some kind of plant,” hissed Button, passing on information to the crew below. “But I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “That’s because you don’t know anything about plants,” said Uncle Noggin. “Here, let me have a look.” He edged his head out of the ship so he could see.

  Lily rolled her eyes at him. “What is it then, clever clogs?”

  “Aha . . . err, um, OH, I don’t know!” muttered Uncle Noggin. “I ain’t never seen anything like it either.”

  Button kept his eye glued to the spyglass.

  Mr. Tooey shoved the plant around on the end of the shelf, finding just the right place for it, then he poured a drop of water into the bottom of the pot while his dog fussed around his feet. “There . . . that should help,” he murmured.

  He tottered off into the kitchen, talking to the dog as he went. “Come on then, old boy, let’s get you something to eat.”

  “That should help?” repeated Button. “What does he mean
?”

  But no one could answer.

  When they were sure he had gone, the Captain gave orders for the cork to be pushed out of the bottle neck and they went outside to look at the curious piece of greenery that had just been delivered.

  In the excitement of its arrival, they had forgotten about Mr. Dregby.

  And now they gazed in wonder at the towering green monster above them. What was it?

  “By Jove, I’ve never seen anything QUITE like that,” said the Captain. “Looks like something tropical.”

  “Might be something we can eat!” said Uncle Noggin. “Looks like it has some kind of fruit on it.”

  Bzzzzzzzzz. From the distance, the droning sound of houseflies was approaching. This time there were three of them. The Captain drew his sword and Button grabbed the broken paintbrush that he used to sweep the deck.

  Bzzzzzzzz. The noise grew louder. The winged horrors swooped down at the buccaneers. Jones meowed loudly and Lily climbed up the candlestick and waved the pirate flag at them. “Shoo, shoo.”

  Uncle Noggin rolled up a corner of torn newspaper and waved it in the air. “Go on, off you go. Buzz around somewhere else, you ’orrible lumps.”

  “I think they’re after our food supplies,” said Button.

  “No chance,” cried Lily. “We’ll fight to the end!”

  Behind them, Mr. Dregby had dropped to the outer edge of his web. He couldn’t resist the look of the juicy flies and mini buccaneer snacks.

  He dropped again, bouncing toward Button on his strong, silky thread.

  “Look out behind you!” screamed Lily, but it was too late. Quick as a flash, Mr. Dregby wrapped his creepy, hairy feelers around Button’s head and started doing his best to pull him up into the web.

  Lily grabbed hold of Button around the middle, followed swiftly (well, when I say swiftly . . . errr . . . not really) by Old Uncle Noggin, who grabbed on to Lily by the coattails. So now there was a tug of war, with Mr. Dregby on one side and Button in between, as Lily and Uncle Noggin held tight, refusing to let go.

  Captain Crabsticks had finished fighting off the flies. Fearlessly, he climbed on to the top of a cotton spool to wave his darning needle at the huge spider.

  “Get those blasted hairy pins of yours away from our cabin boy, you filthy arachnid.”

  The more the crew pulled at Button, the tighter Mr. Dregby’s grip became around his neck. He was struggling to breathe and the spiky hairs from the spider’s huge legs scratched his face.

  Close up, the spider’s eyes whizzed and twirled in every direction and its mouth was opening wide.

  “Take that, you . . . you . . . eight-legged monkey,” the Captain shouted, and at that moment he managed to stick the needle into one of the spider’s legs. Mr. Dregby made a strange spidery squuueeeeaaaal, let go of Button, and went shooting back up his thread into the corner.

  “That’ll teach him to mess with the might of the miniature pirates!” said the Captain. “Retreat to the deck, crew.”

  Lily and Uncle Noggin dragged Button to his feet and they all hurried inside the bottle. Then, for the second time that day, they pulled the cork tight into the neck.

  Mr. Dregby stared at them, six angry eyes and bared teeth glinting at them through the glass.

  “That was too close for comfort,” said Lily, her heart beating fast.

  “Well done,” cheered Old Uncle Noggin. “We deserve a tasty snack for that.”

  “How long do we have to keep this up for?” said Button, sweating after his ordeal. “It’s exhausting.”

  “And it’s red hot today,” said Uncle Noggin, wiping his brow with his handkerchief.

  The flies bashed against the bottle, buzzing and hovering. Mr. Dregby walked over the glass ceiling, wrapping his silk backward and forward around the bottle.

  “We’re being taken over,” said Button.

  “Something has to be done, and soon,” agreed the Captain. “No one and nothing bullies the inch-high pirate crew and gets away with it.”

  All that heat inside the bottle was making the place feel like a greenhouse. Normally they’d keep their food in the ship, but they’d had to put it in an old matchbox on the shelf to stop it from spoiling. And when Button ventured out to fetch supplies he discovered something.

  “Garghhhh! The flies have eaten the grub.”

  “WHAT?” cried Uncle Noggin. “ALL of it?”

  “Every last morsel,” said Button, hanging his head and pulling his wet hair back over his face. “Except the cheese. They’ve gotten sick on the cheese.”

  “Urrrrrghh, the nerve of it,” gasped Uncle Noggin. “I was looking forward to grape juice and cheddar tonight.”

  “We’re stuck in here, it’s red hot, I’m bored, AND I’m thirsty,” said Lily, frowning.

  “How about a good old story, then?” suggested Uncle Noggin. He always had a story, and now was no exception. “It’ll help to take our minds off things.”

  “A story? What . . . now? Why?” said Lily, folding her arms and still looking cross. She settled into her hammock as Old Uncle Noggin perched on a timber of the ship that stuck out at an angle.

  “Go on,” said Button, sitting down alongside them. “It will take our minds off the mayhem.”

  “Well, you reminded me, being thirsty an’ all that, about the story of a clever old crow. It’s an ancient story, mind you. But it’s a good ’un.”

  “Okay,” said Lily, “I’m all ears.”

  “Well, it was a hot afternoon in the middle of a blisterin’ summer when a crow swooped down to see if he could find water to drink. There didn’t seem to be a drop anywhere. Not until he found a shady corner of a garden and an old jug that had collected rainwater from a thick nest of old vine leaves.

  “But the jug was only half full and try as he might, the crow just couldn’t reach far enough to take a drink. Not even with his long beak.”

  “What did he do, what did he do?” urged Button.

  “Well, he took hold of a pebble in his beak and dropped it into the water.”

  “Why?” asked Button.

  “Listen,” said Lily, “and you’ll find out.”

  “Then another and another, until slowly he could see that the water was beginning to rise upward.

  “He kept on going, one pebble after another. Hard work it was too, for an old crow. Backward and forward in the heat and it was starting to feel to the crow like it wasn’t worth it after a while.

  “But when eventually the water came to the top, he took a good long drink and then flew off up into the blue sky, feeling happy and satisfied.”

  “Ahh, that’s clever,” said Button.

  “Of course,” said Uncle Noggin. “Mr. Crow’s a wise old bird.”

  “That was very good, Uncle Noggin. Thank you. But it hasn’t helped our situation. AND it’s made me more thirsty,” said Lily.

  But Button thought he might know what the story really meant. They had to be wise, just like the crow.

  First things first. They would need a late-night trip to try to get some supplies. A good climb in the dark down to the old desk, where they knew there was dried pasta in the drawer with the broken keyhole.

  Pasta was light and easy to carry. Then they’d draw off some hot water from the leaky pipe and soak it until it became soft. Not the best meal, but at least it would stop them feeling hungry.

  Button pattered over to the wristwatch that was fastened to the wall. It was late. Mr. Tooey would be snoring away upstairs by now and more importantly, the dog would be fast asleep. It was a good time to leave. He was looking forward to it: a short breathing space, away from the shelf. A bit of adventure, maybe a touch of danger. Or at least some peace and quiet away from Uncle Noggin.

  “I think you’re right,” said Lily. “Let’s take our time. As long as we keep an eye out for Old Hairy Legs, it should be fun.”

  When darkness came, Button and Lily set off together, leaving the Captain and Uncle Noggin to look after the ship.

&n
bsp; It was cooler now that the light had dropped. A silvery-blue moon lit the way, and for a moment it felt almost magical along the shelf.

  As they skirted around the plant pot, something made a sound.

  “What was that?” hissed Button.

  “What?” whispered Lily.

  “It was a . . . strange sound. Like a shhquelch but not just a shhhquelch. More like a thump but not just a thump. Kind of both. A kind of . . .”

  “You mean a shhhquellllump?” said Lily.

  “Yes, exactly,” said Button. “You heard it too, right? What was it?”

  “No, I didn’t hear it. No idea!” said Lily. They carried on with their mission and the shhhquellllump was soon forgotten.

  Climbing down to the desk was an easy task for Lily and Button, especially when they were alone. In no time at all they were rooting around in the drawer with the broken keyhole.

  “This one will do,” said Button, after they had spent some time searching through the rubble. He was dusting off a piece of macaroni. They had no idea why the dried pasta sat among the paper clips and staples, but it was useful. Lily found one too, and with an old shoelace and a safety pin they started hauling their meal back to the shelf.

  Climbing over the odds and ends, Button noticed a book on plants. He couldn’t resist investigating the pages in the blue moonlight.

  “What are you doing?” whispered Lily back to him.

  “I just thought . . . I might . . .” (Every time he found a picture or an interesting paragraph he went silent, studied it, and carried on again.) “. . . be able to see . . .”

  “Be able to see what?”

  “AHA . . . there it is!” he said, stopping at a picture of a plant that looked identical to the one Mr. Tooey had brought to the shelf.

  “Oh . . .” said Button, “Look . . . it’s a V E N U S F L Y T R A P.”