Junior Earplug Adventures: Plunging into Peril (Part Thirty-Seven)


Sinclair thought long and hard through the hours that led towards noon.

“We’ll try again after evening tea time.” He said finally. “Someone’s bound to be home around then.”

So shortly after the sun had dipped behind the distant hills…

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…a flare lit up the town. Moments later the hover pad squadrons buzzed in from the surrounding darkness…

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…casting dark pools of shadow upon the homes below as they did so…

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Then, taking up formation, Blue Squadron began dropping leaflets that explained, using simplistic drawings, the social situation in which the cable ends now lived…

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…whilst Red Squadron…

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…dropped instructions for creating a democracy, basic health care, constructing flush toilets, and a rudimentary sewerage system.

But little did either team suspect that no one was listening. They were all long gone – far away to the sanctuary of the industrial area…

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“Ooh,” one of them said to his chum, “I’m not sure I really like all this modernity.”

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“Me too.” The other replied. “Wattle and daub really does it for me. I really like the smell of straw and dung and roughly-hewn timbers.”

Meanwhile, in the Old Quarter, something was going very wrong in the air above it…

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“Argh,” Huge Johnson bellowed.” I’ve lost control of my hover pad!”

“Likewise.” His wife, Betty, screamed. “My levers are jammed solidly.”

“And I feel sick.” John-Douglas Plectrum informed everyone as they battled with their recalcitrant vehicles. “Motion sick, that is. Not sick with fear. I’d hate for you to think I was cowardly or lacking in moral fibre.”

Then things got really nasty for the hover pad teams…

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…as they were flung about the sky. But that wasn’t the end of it. Oh no. Because then the force that had taken control of the hover pads inverted the machines…

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…and sent the blood in their pilot’s feet rushing down into their brains – making them all woozy and incredibly stupid.

© Paul Trevor Nolan

 

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About Tooty Nolan

Writer of silly tales, taker of pictures, and all round good egg
This entry was posted in Photography, Writing / Books and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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