ALICE & MATILDA VS THE ZORIOUS BAZOO: Chapter 2: The Bazoolah
By lperree
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ALICE & MATILDA VS THE ZORIOUS BAZOO
CHAPTER THE SECOND
The Bazoolah
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The burrow was dark, damp and very smelly, and unbeknownst to both girls it was not a rabbit nest – I mean, burrow – at all. It was a Bazoolah, one of many underground tunnels which leads directly to the Lost City of Bazoo Stack (from which the town of Basingstoke gets its name).
Bazoo Stack is a tall teetering tower of rubbish situated far underground, and is home to thousands of small, ill-mannered goblins called the Bazoo. On top of being ill-mannered, Bazoo are also very smelly, as one would expect from living in a tall teetering tower of rubbish.
As Bazoo Stack has grown over the last hundred years, so too has the stench of rubbish, and by 1964 it had become so overpowering that one clever Bazoo, known as Snackjacket, decided to dig a series of tunnels up to the surface world from the vast cave which housed Bazoo Stack.
The idea of the tunnels was to let out the ghastly fumes emanating from the underground city, but it ended up giving rabbits the idea that living in nests in trees was maybe not such a good idea after all, and that holes in the ground would suit them far better. So, in moved the rabbits.
This worked out well for the Bazoo, who discovered they had a taste for rabbit. And both the Bazoo and the rabbits lived happily and peacefully together.
Except for the rabbits, who were promptly eaten.
Alice soon caught up with Matilda in that dark and smelly Bazoolah.
Matilda had stopped burrowing at this point because the tunnel had widened enough for the two girls to stand up straight, side by side, so it was just like any other regular underground tunnel in which two young clever girls could stand up straight, side by side, together.
Matilda had also stopped because the tunnel ahead of her now went off in three different directions, each of them sloping downward. What is more, all three tunnels smelled extremely bad.
‘I don’t think there are rabbits here, Tilly’ said Alice.
‘I think you’re right,’ said Matilda. ‘Let’s turn back.’
But as the girls turned around they saw with surprise that the tunnel they had crawled down was not one tunnel now, but ten!
‘Maybe we took a wrong turn’ said Matilda.
‘Or maybe it’s the rabbit burrow effect’ said Alice.
The rabbit burrow effect was one of the few “less fun ideas” which Mister Hutchings had created – albeit completely by accident. A side-effect of the rubbery goop of which Mister Hutchings was so fond, was that it led to acute leftness in some breeds of rabbit. Those afflicted could only turn left, and often got lost in their own burrows as a result.
‘But we’re not rabbits,’ said Matilda.
‘And we haven’t turned left, let alone right,’ said Alice. ‘In fact, we haven’t moved at all!’
‘I don’t like this,’ said Matilda, and turned around to the right, just to be sure that it wasn’t the rabbit burrow effect after all.
‘Oh dear!’ she said.
Alice also turned around, and she saw that where before there were three smelly downward sloping tunnels, there were now three hundred!
‘I’m scared!’ said Matilda. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Bazoolah Magic,’ said a new voice.
The girls turned yet again and noticed two new things.
Thing One was that there were now no tunnels at all leading in any direction from where they stood. There was no in and no out. Only earth all around with the occasional tree root, and a worm that had lost his way and was now thinking that maybe he should have taken a left just before Basingstoke.
Thing Two was the small creature which had appeared from out of nowhere. His swish jacket was a crisp packet; from his pantaloons hung shiny spoons; his tiny boots? The peel from fruit. But his cap was from GAP so at least he had some good taste.
‘Who are you?’ said Matilda.
‘I,’ said the creature, crossing his arms, ‘am Helterpot the Bold, Son of Snackjacket the Intrepid, Grandson of Beetletooth the Wise, Great Grandson of Kendalcake the Minty, and Great Great Grandson of Waterbutt the Leaky. I am Guardian of the Bazoolah, and you, little ribbits, are trespassing!’
‘We are not trespassing!’ said Alice.
‘And we’re not rabbits! said Matilda.
The Bazoo (for that is what he was) stamped his foot. ‘Silence ribbits!’ he said. ‘You ARE TOO trespassing, and if you are not ribbits then why was you borrowing like a ribbit?’
The Bazoo clearly meant rabbits and burrowing, but being clever, the two girls knew this and thought it best not to correct the angry little creature on this occasion.
‘We were – er – borrowing like ribbits only because we were looking for ribbits,’ said Alice.
‘But that doesn’t mean we ARE ribbits,’ Matilda added hastily.
‘And why was you looking for ribbits?’ asked the Bazoo. He leaned closer, licking his lips. ‘To eat them, p’raps? Mmmm. I could really eat a sweet little ribbit right now.’
He looked at Matilda. ‘Say, you’re about the same size as a ribbit. I wonder if you taste like one.’
‘You behave yourself,’ said Alice sternly, stepping in front of her Matilda. She was very protective of her younger sister, just as older sisters should be.
The Bazoo also took a step forward, then stopped. He looked at the girls closely, leaned forward, took a good sniff, then scratched his head.
‘Well, maybe you is a ribbit, and maybe you isn’t. But you is still trespassing. And the penalty is still the same. I am to take you back to Bazoo Stack where you will be made into ribbit pies.’
‘But WE’RE NOT RIBBITS – I mean – RABBITS!’ shouted Matilda.
‘Well,’ said the Bazoo, ‘there is only one way to find out – besides making you into ribbit pies.’
‘And that is?’ said Alice.
‘I hereby challenge you to a rhyming contest,’ said the Bazoo. ‘Everyone knows that ribbits are rubbish at rhyming. Aha! They can’t even rhyme ‘cirrot’ with ‘pirrot’, and cirrots are what a ribbit likes the best! Ribbits are really STUPID!’
‘How very rude’ said Matilda, even though she isn’t a ribbit. I mean, rabbit.
‘So,’ continued the Bazoo, ‘if you are not ribbits then you will win the contest, and you can go free. But if you lose the contest then I will take you back to Bazoo Stack immediately to be made into ribbit pies!’
‘Well I guess we haven’t much choice,’ said Alice to Matilda.
‘I don’t much fancy being a ribbit pie,’ said Matilda. ‘It sounds goopy.’
Alice crossed her arms and said to the Bazoo in her most authoritative voice: ‘Helterpot the Bold, we accept your challenge!’
‘Though we most definitely are not ribbits!’ added Matilda, also crossing her arms.
‘We shall see,’ giggled the Bazoo, nastily.
‘We...shall...see.’
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END OF CHAPTER
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Oh dear, poor Alice and
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