very secret mission is to stop a stunt nun from getting pregnant . . .’ started Uncle Quagmire.
‘What’s a stunt nun?’ asked Amy, rather unnecessarily.
‘You don’t know? Hmmm. I’ll come to that later,’ said Uncle Quagmire. ‘Now, you know that I used to work for the government, secretly, undercover . . .’
‘Gosh! A bit like our Secret Five!’ said Amy.
‘Yes, if you like . . .’ he went on, ‘except for the kangaroo, of course. Well, as you probably know, I retired on a rather generocious final-salary retired-undercover-spy graduated occupational pension – the value of which, by the way, can go up or down – after the unfortunate incident with the royal-corgi-cam in the Queen’s private bathroom. But then they learnt about my latest invention . . .’
‘Your time machine!’ said Betty.
‘Quite,’ said Uncle Quagmire, quite quietly. ‘So they asked me to do one more job for them, and I refused.’
‘Ha! He refused!’ cackled Old Hag, adjusting the gusset of her tracksuit bottoms as she reappeared and hoisted herself onto a chair.
‘Shush!’ shushed Daniel. ‘Let him finish. It might become mildly interesting.’
‘In the end,’ Uncle Quagmire continued, ‘I went into hiding at Greentiles but they found me and kidnapped me so that they could send me here to . . .’
At that point Old Hag started waving her arms around and yelled, ‘Chapter break! Chapter break!’
‘What?’ exclaimed Uncle Quagmire, glaring a very effective glare at Old Hag.
‘Oh, it’s all right,’ said Betty. ‘She’s got inside information about chapter breaks. There’s obviously one due.’
‘Oh,’ said Uncle Quagmire. ‘In that case, I’ll pause on a mini cliffhanger, shall I?’
The children thought that was a good idea, and said so. ‘That’s a good idea,’ they all said, quite unsurprisingly.
‘So,’ said Uncle Quagmire, ‘they secretly told me that a certain criminal mastermind is being very nasty indeed and is about to threatenise the civilised world with . . .’ He paused, to rack up the tension and to maximise the dramatic effect, ‘
worldwide mass destruction!
’
‘Worldwide mass destruction?’ exclaimed Daniel. ‘Golly, that’s quite serious, isn’t it? Now, anyone fancy another glass of lemon and lime cordial?’
‘Er, yes,’ said Uncle Quagmire. ‘But you’ve now completely destroyed the
worldwide mass destruction
cliffhanger chapter ending!’
‘Oh, sorry,’ said Daniel meekly.
They all sat looking at each other, quietly sipping their cordials, which tasted quite nice.
Chapter Twelve
In which we learn of a highly dangerous mission; a shadowy group is mentioned, very briefly; Betty explains about fallopian tubes, which is quite interesting, everything else considered; Old Hag slumps onto a handy wall; the reader ponders upon the wisdom of impulse book purchases.
‘I am
really
sorry,’ said Daniel, even more meekly than his previous meekly. ‘I think I ruined the end-of-chapter cliffhanger.’
‘Ha! You should be sorry, Dando!’ cackled Old Hag. ‘Don’t know you’re born, you kids don’t. Come to think of it, you haven’t been born yet, have you?’
The children each raised both of their eyebrows and looked quizzically at Old Hag. Given her choice of clothes, who can blame them. Whatshisname, who had sneaked back into the chapter while Old Hag was busy cackling, tried his best to look quizzical but failed quite miserably. Looking quizzical had never been his strong point, his time on the vet’s table during the surprise outing being the closest he had come to raising an eyebrow or two.
‘Anyway,’ said Uncle Quagmire, bravely carrying on despite the digressive narrative, ‘they told me that the only way to preventicate this certain criminal mastermind from destroying or dominating the civilised world is to . . .’
Uncle Quagmire paused melodramatically. The children were deeply impressed by his use of dramatic effect and histrionic
‘What’s a stunt nun?’ asked Amy, rather unnecessarily.
‘You don’t know? Hmmm. I’ll come to that later,’ said Uncle Quagmire. ‘Now, you know that I used to work for the government, secretly, undercover . . .’
‘Gosh! A bit like our Secret Five!’ said Amy.
‘Yes, if you like . . .’ he went on, ‘except for the kangaroo, of course. Well, as you probably know, I retired on a rather generocious final-salary retired-undercover-spy graduated occupational pension – the value of which, by the way, can go up or down – after the unfortunate incident with the royal-corgi-cam in the Queen’s private bathroom. But then they learnt about my latest invention . . .’
‘Your time machine!’ said Betty.
‘Quite,’ said Uncle Quagmire, quite quietly. ‘So they asked me to do one more job for them, and I refused.’
‘Ha! He refused!’ cackled Old Hag, adjusting the gusset of her tracksuit bottoms as she reappeared and hoisted herself onto a chair.
‘Shush!’ shushed Daniel. ‘Let him finish. It might become mildly interesting.’
‘In the end,’ Uncle Quagmire continued, ‘I went into hiding at Greentiles but they found me and kidnapped me so that they could send me here to . . .’
At that point Old Hag started waving her arms around and yelled, ‘Chapter break! Chapter break!’
‘What?’ exclaimed Uncle Quagmire, glaring a very effective glare at Old Hag.
‘Oh, it’s all right,’ said Betty. ‘She’s got inside information about chapter breaks. There’s obviously one due.’
‘Oh,’ said Uncle Quagmire. ‘In that case, I’ll pause on a mini cliffhanger, shall I?’
The children thought that was a good idea, and said so. ‘That’s a good idea,’ they all said, quite unsurprisingly.
‘So,’ said Uncle Quagmire, ‘they secretly told me that a certain criminal mastermind is being very nasty indeed and is about to threatenise the civilised world with . . .’ He paused, to rack up the tension and to maximise the dramatic effect, ‘
worldwide mass destruction!
’
‘Worldwide mass destruction?’ exclaimed Daniel. ‘Golly, that’s quite serious, isn’t it? Now, anyone fancy another glass of lemon and lime cordial?’
‘Er, yes,’ said Uncle Quagmire. ‘But you’ve now completely destroyed the
worldwide mass destruction
cliffhanger chapter ending!’
‘Oh, sorry,’ said Daniel meekly.
They all sat looking at each other, quietly sipping their cordials, which tasted quite nice.
Chapter Twelve
In which we learn of a highly dangerous mission; a shadowy group is mentioned, very briefly; Betty explains about fallopian tubes, which is quite interesting, everything else considered; Old Hag slumps onto a handy wall; the reader ponders upon the wisdom of impulse book purchases.
‘I am
really
sorry,’ said Daniel, even more meekly than his previous meekly. ‘I think I ruined the end-of-chapter cliffhanger.’
‘Ha! You should be sorry, Dando!’ cackled Old Hag. ‘Don’t know you’re born, you kids don’t. Come to think of it, you haven’t been born yet, have you?’
The children each raised both of their eyebrows and looked quizzically at Old Hag. Given her choice of clothes, who can blame them. Whatshisname, who had sneaked back into the chapter while Old Hag was busy cackling, tried his best to look quizzical but failed quite miserably. Looking quizzical had never been his strong point, his time on the vet’s table during the surprise outing being the closest he had come to raising an eyebrow or two.
‘Anyway,’ said Uncle Quagmire, bravely carrying on despite the digressive narrative, ‘they told me that the only way to preventicate this certain criminal mastermind from destroying or dominating the civilised world is to . . .’
Uncle Quagmire paused melodramatically. The children were deeply impressed by his use of dramatic effect and histrionic
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