Junior Earplug Adventures: Those Magnificent Earplugs (Part 22)

After poking around the periphery for a while, Chester and Miles finally found a means of ingress…


Because they were on the outer fringes of the museum,  and also because the Nul-space generator was working at only fifty per cent efficiency, their immediate surroundings remained frozen, and the lighting was subdued…


“I’m very disappointed.” Chester informed Miles. “Those body parts that I mentioned earlier remain in a contracted state.”

But Miles wasn’t really listening: he was more concerned with the huge icicles that hung high above them. If one of them were to fall… He shuddered at the thought.

But as they made their way deeper into the vast edifice, the climatic situation improved…


“I think I know where we are.” Chester said as they traversed an apparently endless corridor.

He grew more certain with each, and every, step…


“In fact,” he added, “I’d go so far as to say that I’d be willing to place a bet on where we are right now.”

Miles was less certain. “Go on then.” He said sharply. “Where are we?”

Two seconds later…


“The Nul-space generator.” Chester answered. “But it doesn’t seem to be running right.”

Both earplugs gave the machine a quick scrutiny…


“Where’s that pleasant  deep basso tone?” Miles inquired.

Chester sighed. “It doesn’t matter: we’re here to switch it off. I suggest we go find whoever switched it on, and ask them to switch it off again.”

To this end they set off along the well-worn main thoroughfare, where they chanced upon Fulham Peach and Crudlove Twang…


“Oh my God – oh my God – oh my God.” Fulham squealed enthusiastically. “It’s two of the Earplug Brothers!”

“Chester and Miles to be precise.” A slightly less excited Crudlove observed.

“Hello.” Miles and Chester spoke in  unison. “We’re here on a desperately important mission. Everyone is in terrible danger.”

Neither youngster questioned the twins: they knew, from experience, that if an Earplug Brother said that something was so – that something was absolutely so.”

“Come with us.” Crudlove urged them…


Chester was inordinately pleased with the situation. The plan was proceeding like a charm. “Where are we going?” He asked.

“To the security suite.” Fulham answered. “We’ve made it our headquarters. By the way; can I have your autograph, please? I don’t care where you sign it.”

Naturally both twins obliged, and they arrived at the security suite only thirty seconds after their estimated time of arrival…


They had expected to find the other two youngsters who had been reported missing from the Museum of Future Technology – those being Fledgling McCormack and Spodney Gridlock. They hadn’t, however, anticipated the presence of the former nun, Buttox Barkingwell, or the two ex-monks, Bolah Googly and Zak Bravado.

“Hi.” They said. Then they explained about the problem with the original museum.

“Hah!” Buttox snorted. “Your information is already out of date.”


This was not good news. “How do you know?” Chester demanded.

“We know,” Buttox answered, “because we’ve dragged the Omnipresent Scanner all the way here from the permafrost of  the Curator’s Suite – and plugged it in here. The result has made me sick with worry. Do you want to see what’s happening?”

© Paul Trevor Nolan


About Tooty Nolan

Writer of silly tales, taker of pictures, and all round good egg
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