Casper Candlewacks in the Time Travelling Toaster by Ivan Brett Page B
Authors: Ivan Brett
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Casper took an excited intake of breath. “We could climb in there. Set up the Tickle Tag in a batch of juicy circuits and get out before Briar and Anemonie notice a thing. All we need is a distraction, and Betty’s wheelchair did a pretty good job tonigh— Oh.” Casper’s plan came crashing about him like a house made of peanut butter.
Chrys snarled. She’d seen the problem too.
“Betty’s wheelchair is no better than trash now,” said Casper, through gritted teeth. “Aside from her, and with Lottie and Andrea, ahem, ‘employed’, there’re only three of us. How are we supposed to bring out the robot AND distract it enough to climb inside its bowels?”
“We need an army,” said Chrys.
And then Casper looked down at the Time Toaster, and he knew what to do.
They took the back way to the bus stop, leaping over three different garden walls and wading through a fishpond to avoid the exposed walk along Feete Street. The bus stop stood alone on the side of the road, the wires still hanging from the timetable as Lamp had left them. With a bit of guesswork, a screwdriver and a couple of trial runs, the Time Toaster was ready to fly once more.
“Ready?” winced Casper.
“Sorry,” said Flanella. “Erm… what’re we doing?”
“You’re about to see for yourself.” He tapped in a familiar date on the buttons and cried, “ Let’s TIME! ”
(Right. The next bit gets slightly confusing unless you know when everything happened. So I’ll add the dates and times, just to help you out. Thank me later.)
21 October 2012, long after dinnertime
Amanda Candlewacks was frankly livid when her son burst through the door.
“Casper Graham Ziggy Candlewacks, where on earth have you been?” she demanded, hands on hips. “You’re late for supper. Yesterday’s supper. I haven’t seen you since the bus shelter thing.”
Two cold bowls of baked beans sat next to each other on the kitchen table.
“Sorry, Mum. I’ve been… actually, you’d never believe me.”
Two girls stood behind Amanda’s son, both feasting their eyes on their surroundings as if this house were the Palace of Versailles. Amanda felt her heart race, and then her cheeks and the tip of her nose go red. Did Casper have… girlfriends ? Two of them? “Oh… ” squeaked Amanda. “Are these your friends?”
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” said a sharp-faced girl who looked awfully like that Anemonie Blight. Amanda couldn’t tell if the girl was being sarcastic, so she replied, “We’re due for a redecoration. I was going to get a man in.”
“NYA!” From her high chair in the corner, little Cuddles, Casper’s sister, was getting bored. And with teeth like that, boredom meant bite marks.
Both Amanda’s and Casper’s eyes settled on the baby.
“Mum, can I take her for a while?”
Amanda frowned. The last time Casper needed Cuddles, it was to bite through a padlock that Lamp Flannigan had fastened round his wrist. “How long d’you need her for?”
“I’ll bring her back before morning. You go to sleep.”
“Ooh, that does sound nice. Haven’t had a good night of sleep since three weeksmmm…” And then Amanda found her eyes drooping and her legs buckling, and Casper and his girlfriends were already halfway out of the front door with Cuddles slung under one arm.
5 June 1915, shortly after breakfast
The 1st Kobb battalion stood smartly to attention in the square, their bayonets fitted with those sharp pointy sausages you get for a barbecue.
Crowds waving British flags bordered the square. Everybody had turned up, from the children with short shorts and knocky knees to an aged woman in her rickety wheelchair.
General Beverage twitched his proud moustache. “What you are about to do, troops, is the proudest thing a man can do.”
“Erm… second proudest,” piped up a little blond-haired chap from behind the general.
General Beverage twisted on his heels, enraged. “HOW DARE YOU
Casper took an excited intake of breath. “We could climb in there. Set up the Tickle Tag in a batch of juicy circuits and get out before Briar and Anemonie notice a thing. All we need is a distraction, and Betty’s wheelchair did a pretty good job tonigh— Oh.” Casper’s plan came crashing about him like a house made of peanut butter.
Chrys snarled. She’d seen the problem too.
“Betty’s wheelchair is no better than trash now,” said Casper, through gritted teeth. “Aside from her, and with Lottie and Andrea, ahem, ‘employed’, there’re only three of us. How are we supposed to bring out the robot AND distract it enough to climb inside its bowels?”
“We need an army,” said Chrys.
And then Casper looked down at the Time Toaster, and he knew what to do.
They took the back way to the bus stop, leaping over three different garden walls and wading through a fishpond to avoid the exposed walk along Feete Street. The bus stop stood alone on the side of the road, the wires still hanging from the timetable as Lamp had left them. With a bit of guesswork, a screwdriver and a couple of trial runs, the Time Toaster was ready to fly once more.
“Ready?” winced Casper.
“Sorry,” said Flanella. “Erm… what’re we doing?”
“You’re about to see for yourself.” He tapped in a familiar date on the buttons and cried, “ Let’s TIME! ”
(Right. The next bit gets slightly confusing unless you know when everything happened. So I’ll add the dates and times, just to help you out. Thank me later.)
21 October 2012, long after dinnertime
Amanda Candlewacks was frankly livid when her son burst through the door.
“Casper Graham Ziggy Candlewacks, where on earth have you been?” she demanded, hands on hips. “You’re late for supper. Yesterday’s supper. I haven’t seen you since the bus shelter thing.”
Two cold bowls of baked beans sat next to each other on the kitchen table.
“Sorry, Mum. I’ve been… actually, you’d never believe me.”
Two girls stood behind Amanda’s son, both feasting their eyes on their surroundings as if this house were the Palace of Versailles. Amanda felt her heart race, and then her cheeks and the tip of her nose go red. Did Casper have… girlfriends ? Two of them? “Oh… ” squeaked Amanda. “Are these your friends?”
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” said a sharp-faced girl who looked awfully like that Anemonie Blight. Amanda couldn’t tell if the girl was being sarcastic, so she replied, “We’re due for a redecoration. I was going to get a man in.”
“NYA!” From her high chair in the corner, little Cuddles, Casper’s sister, was getting bored. And with teeth like that, boredom meant bite marks.
Both Amanda’s and Casper’s eyes settled on the baby.
“Mum, can I take her for a while?”
Amanda frowned. The last time Casper needed Cuddles, it was to bite through a padlock that Lamp Flannigan had fastened round his wrist. “How long d’you need her for?”
“I’ll bring her back before morning. You go to sleep.”
“Ooh, that does sound nice. Haven’t had a good night of sleep since three weeksmmm…” And then Amanda found her eyes drooping and her legs buckling, and Casper and his girlfriends were already halfway out of the front door with Cuddles slung under one arm.
5 June 1915, shortly after breakfast
The 1st Kobb battalion stood smartly to attention in the square, their bayonets fitted with those sharp pointy sausages you get for a barbecue.
Crowds waving British flags bordered the square. Everybody had turned up, from the children with short shorts and knocky knees to an aged woman in her rickety wheelchair.
General Beverage twitched his proud moustache. “What you are about to do, troops, is the proudest thing a man can do.”
“Erm… second proudest,” piped up a little blond-haired chap from behind the general.
General Beverage twisted on his heels, enraged. “HOW DARE YOU
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