him speak,” said Mrs Grunt.
“That’s exactly what I was telling YOU todo, wife!” fumed Mr Grunt.
“We need to warn them that someone is planning to blow up the house!” said Sunny.
“Blow it up?” said Mrs Grunt.
“YES!” said Sunny.
“Then of course we must go there,” said Mrs Grunt.
“Definitely,” said Mr Grunt. “I wouldn’t want us to miss a good explosion. I love a good explosion!”
“Me too!” said Mrs Grunt, thinking back to her science lessons at school. “Come on!”
Now, Sunny could have wasted time arguing that the whole purpose of his getting to Bigg Manor as soon as possible was to try to STOP there being a big explosion, but a waste of time was all it would have been. With Mr and Mrs Grunt excited at the prospect of witnessing a big bang, Mrs Grunt was quick to get Clip andClop aboard their new custom-built trailer at the back, while Mr Grunt and Sunny hitched Fingers up to the newly adapted harness at the front of the caravan.
“A perfect fit!” said Mr Grunt. “Let’s get going!”
So off they headed, a slightly puzzled Clip and Clop enjoying the view and feeling the wind whizzing between their ears, and an excited elephant pulling them at impressive speed, eager for adventure.
Chapter Thirteen
Law in Action
W hen they arrived at Bigg Manor, Sunny felt that they were as late as one could be without actually being too late. Sticking out of every window of the house was … was …
“Dynamite!” Sunny gasped.
Up above the rooftop, brilliantly coloured birds circled and swooped, and squawked in dismay. Sunny could clearly make out Monty, the parrot that had been eyeing his nose in the potting shed, his beautiful plumage catching the fading rays of the sun.
There was no difficulty in Fingers pulling the Grunts’ caravan, trailer and all, up the drive because the gates – those hated gates – hung crooked, broken and wide open where something had rammed them apart. One of the lion-topped pillars was badly scraped, the fresh scars showing white against the weathered stone, where something had hit it hard. And that something was stationed on the lawn before them now, right by the pond where Mimi had hidden from the bees.
It was a giant of a mechanical digger with a huge yellow scoop on the front with jagged teeth of metal. And it was in that scoop – now raised in its highest position – that Larry Smalls stood. Yes, he was wearing his BIGG AIN’T BEST T-shirt but (quite apart from the crazy glint in his eyes) there was something very different about him: it was the bow and arrow he was brandishing. Instead of being pointy, the tip of the arrow was wrapped in cloth. And, from the way that the cloth was burning, it had obviously been dipped in something … something like petrol .
Sunny could see the servants crowding round the base of the digger. There was Sack the gardener, Jack the handyman (also known as Handyman Jack) and a woman he took to be Jack’s wife, Agnes the cook and maid, and someone else – a spiky red-haired man – who must be Peach the butler.
There was no sign of Mimi. Sunny gulped. Was she still inside the building?
He had already jumped down from the caravan and was rushing towards the digger. The servants were being prevented from reaching Larry Smalls by a small but dedicated group of ex-circus performers. Jeremy the juggler was running up and down, juggling flaming clubs and nasty-looking knives. There was also a very large man who had no neck to speak of – his head just seemed to join his body – who was wearinga beautifully tailored pink-striped shirt, and a frightening expression on his face. He was bending enormous metal bars as if they were as floppy as Lord Bigg’s ten-year-and- one-week -old railings. And there was Mr Lippy, in full clown clobber – including a squirty plastic rose on his lapel – cycling around the digger on a tiny bicycle, firing green gunk from a super-soaker at anyone foolish enough to try to get
“That’s exactly what I was telling YOU todo, wife!” fumed Mr Grunt.
“We need to warn them that someone is planning to blow up the house!” said Sunny.
“Blow it up?” said Mrs Grunt.
“YES!” said Sunny.
“Then of course we must go there,” said Mrs Grunt.
“Definitely,” said Mr Grunt. “I wouldn’t want us to miss a good explosion. I love a good explosion!”
“Me too!” said Mrs Grunt, thinking back to her science lessons at school. “Come on!”
Now, Sunny could have wasted time arguing that the whole purpose of his getting to Bigg Manor as soon as possible was to try to STOP there being a big explosion, but a waste of time was all it would have been. With Mr and Mrs Grunt excited at the prospect of witnessing a big bang, Mrs Grunt was quick to get Clip andClop aboard their new custom-built trailer at the back, while Mr Grunt and Sunny hitched Fingers up to the newly adapted harness at the front of the caravan.
“A perfect fit!” said Mr Grunt. “Let’s get going!”
So off they headed, a slightly puzzled Clip and Clop enjoying the view and feeling the wind whizzing between their ears, and an excited elephant pulling them at impressive speed, eager for adventure.
Chapter Thirteen
Law in Action
W hen they arrived at Bigg Manor, Sunny felt that they were as late as one could be without actually being too late. Sticking out of every window of the house was … was …
“Dynamite!” Sunny gasped.
Up above the rooftop, brilliantly coloured birds circled and swooped, and squawked in dismay. Sunny could clearly make out Monty, the parrot that had been eyeing his nose in the potting shed, his beautiful plumage catching the fading rays of the sun.
There was no difficulty in Fingers pulling the Grunts’ caravan, trailer and all, up the drive because the gates – those hated gates – hung crooked, broken and wide open where something had rammed them apart. One of the lion-topped pillars was badly scraped, the fresh scars showing white against the weathered stone, where something had hit it hard. And that something was stationed on the lawn before them now, right by the pond where Mimi had hidden from the bees.
It was a giant of a mechanical digger with a huge yellow scoop on the front with jagged teeth of metal. And it was in that scoop – now raised in its highest position – that Larry Smalls stood. Yes, he was wearing his BIGG AIN’T BEST T-shirt but (quite apart from the crazy glint in his eyes) there was something very different about him: it was the bow and arrow he was brandishing. Instead of being pointy, the tip of the arrow was wrapped in cloth. And, from the way that the cloth was burning, it had obviously been dipped in something … something like petrol .
Sunny could see the servants crowding round the base of the digger. There was Sack the gardener, Jack the handyman (also known as Handyman Jack) and a woman he took to be Jack’s wife, Agnes the cook and maid, and someone else – a spiky red-haired man – who must be Peach the butler.
There was no sign of Mimi. Sunny gulped. Was she still inside the building?
He had already jumped down from the caravan and was rushing towards the digger. The servants were being prevented from reaching Larry Smalls by a small but dedicated group of ex-circus performers. Jeremy the juggler was running up and down, juggling flaming clubs and nasty-looking knives. There was also a very large man who had no neck to speak of – his head just seemed to join his body – who was wearinga beautifully tailored pink-striped shirt, and a frightening expression on his face. He was bending enormous metal bars as if they were as floppy as Lord Bigg’s ten-year-and- one-week -old railings. And there was Mr Lippy, in full clown clobber – including a squirty plastic rose on his lapel – cycling around the digger on a tiny bicycle, firing green gunk from a super-soaker at anyone foolish enough to try to get
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