Read Online Pwf & The Goblins' Revenge pdf by Kaye Umansky - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kaye Umansky
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wrestled his Broom to the ground. Supposing it wrestled back?
Brooms were as slippery as eels, if Pongwiffy's was anything to go by. There they were,
then, hiding behind trees and bushes, waiting for the signal, feeling horribly nervous.
Plugugly adjusted his false nose, licked his lips, and tried to remember the order of the
words. How did it go again?
"Reddysteddygo," muttered Plugugly to himself. "Reddysteddygo. Dat's it. Right den.
’Ere goes. Er... REDDYGOSTEDDY!"
Poor Plugugly. The most important thing he'd ever had to do, and he mucked it up.
The rest of the Goblins stared at each other, wondering whether they should leap now or
make Plugugly do it again and get it right. Sproggit, Slopbucket and Lardo hesitantly leapt.
Hog, Eyesore and Stinkwort remained where they were. Sproggit, Slopbucket and Lardo ran
back again, red with embarrassment. It was a farce. But it didn't matter either way. Because
at exactly the moment that Plugugly mucked it up, the Brooms suddenly took off! Just like
that, of their own accord. No warning, straight up, all together. Once airborne, they hovered
for a moment — then, as one, they turned and flew off in a southerly direction. They were
off to visit their ol’ mate Woody. They didn't even know that they'd been sneaked up on —
let alone leapt out at.
The Goblins watched, open-mouthed, as the brooms flew away. There was a long
silence. Then...
"Typical," remarked young Sproggit with a shrug. Which it was.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – A State of Emergency
Meanwhile, back down the hill, the game of charades continued. Woody's performance was
reaching dizzying heights. Before or since, no Broom has ever hobbled quite as convincingly
and sincerely as Woody hobbled that night. It had found a stick, and was using it as a crutch.
It winced at every step. Desperation lent real strength and majesty to its performance. So it
wasn't surprising that, at long last. Hugo got it!
"’Obbling!" squeaked Hugo. "Ze Broom is ’obbling!"
Woody wept with relief.
"Oh, well done, Hugo," said Pongwiffy, patting him on the back. "Now then. What
sounds like hobbling? Bobbling, cobbling — Hey! Gobbling, of course! And gobbling sounds
like Goblin. I knew it! Remember, Sharky? It came over all weird earlier when we mentioned
Goblins. I'm right, aren't I Broom?"
Drained by its performance, Woody gave a weak nod, and there was general relief all
around. Everyone was having a great time. Well, not quite everyone. Sharkadder was
annoyed because Pongwiffy was the centre of attention yet again. Dudley was vexed
because Hugo had been the shining star of this particular game of charades. Macabre and
Rory were missing. Bonidle was asleep, and a few of the Familiars had lost interest and were
talking amongst themselves. But apart from that, everybody was having a great time.
"Right," Pongwiffy summed up, "we have Danger, Goblins. Now we have to get the
next bit. You've done all right so far, Broom. We've seen some brilliant acting tonight, eh,
girls?"
Scattered applause. Woody gave a weak bow.
"Concentrate, Broom," urged Hugo. "Ve need to know vhere and vat is zis danger of
vich you speak. Please act out ze next vord."
But Woody never got the chance. A sound of galloping hooves came from the trees
and Macabre, mounted on Rory, crashed into the glade. Her hat was over one eye, and she
was bursting with importance. She was shouting and whooping and waving something
triumphantly on high.
It was a grubby Goblin bobble hat!
Macabre pulled on the reigns sharply, and Rory skidded to a halt.
"Treachery!" howled Macabre. "Treachery and skulduggery! The Brooms ha’ bin
nicked, every last one. We bin robbed, girrrls. And d'ye ken who by? Ablins, that's who.
Look! Look what Ah foond!"
Macabre speared the evidence on the end of her bagpipes and waved it under
people's noses.
Alarm and consternation! Cries of anger, flapping of wings, flexing of claws, gnashing
of teeth, shaking of
Brooms were as slippery as eels, if Pongwiffy's was anything to go by. There they were,
then, hiding behind trees and bushes, waiting for the signal, feeling horribly nervous.
Plugugly adjusted his false nose, licked his lips, and tried to remember the order of the
words. How did it go again?
"Reddysteddygo," muttered Plugugly to himself. "Reddysteddygo. Dat's it. Right den.
’Ere goes. Er... REDDYGOSTEDDY!"
Poor Plugugly. The most important thing he'd ever had to do, and he mucked it up.
The rest of the Goblins stared at each other, wondering whether they should leap now or
make Plugugly do it again and get it right. Sproggit, Slopbucket and Lardo hesitantly leapt.
Hog, Eyesore and Stinkwort remained where they were. Sproggit, Slopbucket and Lardo ran
back again, red with embarrassment. It was a farce. But it didn't matter either way. Because
at exactly the moment that Plugugly mucked it up, the Brooms suddenly took off! Just like
that, of their own accord. No warning, straight up, all together. Once airborne, they hovered
for a moment — then, as one, they turned and flew off in a southerly direction. They were
off to visit their ol’ mate Woody. They didn't even know that they'd been sneaked up on —
let alone leapt out at.
The Goblins watched, open-mouthed, as the brooms flew away. There was a long
silence. Then...
"Typical," remarked young Sproggit with a shrug. Which it was.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – A State of Emergency
Meanwhile, back down the hill, the game of charades continued. Woody's performance was
reaching dizzying heights. Before or since, no Broom has ever hobbled quite as convincingly
and sincerely as Woody hobbled that night. It had found a stick, and was using it as a crutch.
It winced at every step. Desperation lent real strength and majesty to its performance. So it
wasn't surprising that, at long last. Hugo got it!
"’Obbling!" squeaked Hugo. "Ze Broom is ’obbling!"
Woody wept with relief.
"Oh, well done, Hugo," said Pongwiffy, patting him on the back. "Now then. What
sounds like hobbling? Bobbling, cobbling — Hey! Gobbling, of course! And gobbling sounds
like Goblin. I knew it! Remember, Sharky? It came over all weird earlier when we mentioned
Goblins. I'm right, aren't I Broom?"
Drained by its performance, Woody gave a weak nod, and there was general relief all
around. Everyone was having a great time. Well, not quite everyone. Sharkadder was
annoyed because Pongwiffy was the centre of attention yet again. Dudley was vexed
because Hugo had been the shining star of this particular game of charades. Macabre and
Rory were missing. Bonidle was asleep, and a few of the Familiars had lost interest and were
talking amongst themselves. But apart from that, everybody was having a great time.
"Right," Pongwiffy summed up, "we have Danger, Goblins. Now we have to get the
next bit. You've done all right so far, Broom. We've seen some brilliant acting tonight, eh,
girls?"
Scattered applause. Woody gave a weak bow.
"Concentrate, Broom," urged Hugo. "Ve need to know vhere and vat is zis danger of
vich you speak. Please act out ze next vord."
But Woody never got the chance. A sound of galloping hooves came from the trees
and Macabre, mounted on Rory, crashed into the glade. Her hat was over one eye, and she
was bursting with importance. She was shouting and whooping and waving something
triumphantly on high.
It was a grubby Goblin bobble hat!
Macabre pulled on the reigns sharply, and Rory skidded to a halt.
"Treachery!" howled Macabre. "Treachery and skulduggery! The Brooms ha’ bin
nicked, every last one. We bin robbed, girrrls. And d'ye ken who by? Ablins, that's who.
Look! Look what Ah foond!"
Macabre speared the evidence on the end of her bagpipes and waved it under
people's noses.
Alarm and consternation! Cries of anger, flapping of wings, flexing of claws, gnashing
of teeth, shaking of
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