Chapter Six Senior Winner - Angus Smith

Chapter Six

by Angus Smith (Auckland Normal Intermediate School)

CHAPTER SIX: TINFOIL ALIENS FROM OUTER SPACE

‘A truckload of tinfoil. You need a truckload of tinfoil?’

‘A blurgstonne of tinfoil,’ Miranda corrected helpfully.

‘A gorilla,’ James ‘Foil’ Fenton marvelled, scratching
his matted red hair. ‘Gorillas who need a truckload of tinfoil?’

‘A blurgstonne of tinfoil,’ Giles added.

‘I think he’s got the picture, guys,’ Remy sighed.

The four of them: Remy, Lewis, Giles and Miranda,
crouched in the rickety old tin shack that ‘Foil’ Fenton called home.
Fenton was an eccentric old dwarf who pedalled frying pans and
tinfoil at the Village Square. Lewis’s dad had recommended the hairy
little man to them, as he often bought his tinfoil from him. Believe
you me, Fenton loved tinfoil. The interior of the filthy shack was
completely covered in tinfoil, even the table. Fenton himself wore a
Boss foil coat with a very fashionable designer foil hat. And don’t
forget the extraordinary tinfoil custom legwarmers, stains included.

‘Huh,’ Foil Fenton mused, stroking his abundant beard.
‘Two gorillas wanting a truckload of tinfoil. Pah, I’ve seen
stranger!’ He tapped his nose wisely.

‘Will you help us?’ Lewis demanded impatiently, his
grotty surroundings beginning to get to him.

‘Sure,’ Fenton shrugged, waddling outside. ‘Follow me. I
have plenty of foil out back.’

To say that there was plenty of tinfoil out in Fenton’s
backyard would be an alarming understatement. The entire concrete
space was piled metres high with stacks upon stacks of tinfoil and
frying pans. As Remy stepped out, he almost fainted in shock.

‘What on earth?’ he giggled uncertainly, shuffling his
feet nervously. Then, in an undertone, ‘What sort of person w-would
turn their backyard into a tinfoil depot?’

‘Foil Fenton.’ Lewis muttered.

‘This place reminds me of the blinkin’ metal stores of
Qxarplax-25, eh, wot!’ Giles grinned, bounding eagerly ahead of his
companions.

‘Careful now,’ Foil Fenton wagged one finger
reprovingly, ‘You can take a blugr-whatever amount of my tinfoil
away, but just don’t take it all. Y’see, I’m planning on selling it
to the Maharajah of Pluto at the Annual Space Market.’

Lewis stopped dead in his tracks. Remy, a few paces
behind him, stopped too. Slowly and deliberately, Remy said, ‘What-
did-you-just-say?’

‘Krimea Raj, Maharajah of Pluto?’ Miranda frowned,
seizing Fenton by the collar. ‘Look here, old chap, how the bloomin’
Zsa Zsa Gabor do you know of the Space Market?’

‘I sell tinfoil to the Foil Fenders of Krypton-9, and
pans to the Satyr-Octopi of Daveer Prime.’ Fenton spat, writhing in
the gorilla’s vicelike grasp.

‘Put the blighter down, wot!’ Giles ordered, laying his
gorilla hand on Miranda’s shoulder. ‘He’s one of us- he must be.’

‘Okay,’ Miranda sighed grudgingly, placing the grubby
redhead back onto the earth. ‘Where do you hail from?’

‘Zyman,’ Fenton said suspiciously, peering at the two
gorillas. ‘So you’re from OUTSIDE too, eh? I should’ve known.’

‘But-but I thought that we were the first, wot!’ Giles
frowned, scratching his furry crown.

‘Oh, no!’ Foil Fenton cackled, slapping his thigh and
performing a jig of mirth. ‘E.T’s have been coming to Terra Firma for
centuries. Let me see……. There were the Saucermen, back in Peru…. And
the Grey Ones, over the States….’

‘So this ‘pioneering’ excursion was a waste of time.’
Miranda drooped.

‘I-I’m sorry, but has the world just gone mad?’ Remy
trembled, speaking up for the first time in the discussion. He was
shaking, traumatised out of his wits.

Lewis, the more level-headed one, merely frowned and
asked gruffly: ‘So, alien tramp, are you going to give us our tinfoil
or not?’

Foil Fenton stared impassively for a minute, before
breaking out into a wave of inane mirth. He rolled around raucously,
cackling ceaselessly. He jumped jovially, hailing hahas. Fenton let
loose laughter, gleefully giggling. Childishly chuckling, Foil Fenton
screamed, ‘What a hoot! Go on, take as much as you want!’

The two boys and the two gorillas stood frozen, in
uncomprehending horror.

‘What was so funny, my old chap?’ Giles frowned eventually.

‘Mad.’ Lewis shook his head as if belittling a small child.

‘I say!’ Miranda suddenly exclaimed, once again lifting
Fenton off his feet. ‘Do you have an Un-Timer about the place, wot?’

‘Heeheehee! Oh…what? Oh…yes, I think I have one in a
drawer somewhere,’ Fenton guffawed, still giddy with giggles.

‘Ballyhoo! Hip Hop Hooray!’ Giles beamed, jumping for
joy. He hit a plane flying several thousand metres above them.

‘Whoopsie-doo!’ Miranda grimaced, placing Fenton back on
the ground. ‘I believe that my partner has forgotten how this
planet’s gravity works. Oh dear…’

‘He’ll recover,’ Fenton snorted. ‘You lot on Althar Zero
always come round.’

‘I think I need to sit down,’ Lewis mumbled vaguely,
beginning to feel rather faint.

‘I’ll see you soon, Grandma!’ Remy suddenly screamed,
grabbing a frying pan from a nearby stack and whacking himself hard
over the head. He collapsed.

‘Remy!’ Lewis screamed, rushing over to his friend’s side.

Kneeling next to him, Fenton felt for Remy’s pulse. His
face went waxy with terror. ‘Dead.’

‘No!’ Lewis screamed. ‘W-why did he have to go and kill
himself?’

‘All this must have been too much for him,’ Miranda
shrugged. ‘Don’t fret yourself, child.’

‘How can you be so <expletive deleted> calm!’ Lewis
roared, pounding angrily on Miranda’s feet.

‘There, there, love,’ Miranda said softly, patting Lewis
on the head as if he were a pet dog. ‘This can be all fixed with the
Un-Timer. The dog, Tiger, those awful Jones brats, Remy’s death,
Giles’s…er…mishap. Everything, wot! You’ll never even remember Giles
and I.’

I-I’ll get the Un-Timer!’ Foil Fenton muttered, slipping
soundlessly into his disgusting shack.

A few minutes later he emerged, proudly wielding a
bizarre-looking…pot plant? Miranda snatched the plant from his grasp,
frowning curiously.

‘Ah, a new model,’ she mused, turning it over in her
palms,’ manufactured on…Saturn, if I’m not bally well mistaken?’

‘Get on with it!’ Lewis moaned. ‘I want all this madness
to end!’

‘Oh, right, wot!’ Miranda said sheepishly, snapping a
twig off the plant.

*

Remy was awakened by the snuffling of a wild hoglet by his head.
Groaning, he wearily sat up. There was a searing pain in his back.
Wincing, Remy got to his feet. He looked around. He was alone in the
middle of a forest. A big forest. With absolutely no one in sight.

Remy shook his head. What had happened? His mind felt
rather fuzzy, his thoughts seeming vaguely detached. He couldn’t
remember a thing. He knew his name, and could vaguely recall the
names Lewis and Tiger. And why on earth did he keep thinking about
gorillas? In his mind, there was only one thing to do. Walk. And
hope. Hope to find civilisation.

With a deep sigh, Remy limped off through the silent,
eerie woodlands. One of his legs felt badly bruised, and walking was
tough. Already he was beginning to pant. His heart pounded painfully,
his breath came in ragged gasps. If only he had water…oh, how his
lungs screamed for air! His stomach gurgled, Remy was beginning to
feel faint. How long had he been walking? A minute? An hour? A day? A
week? A month? A year…Giles…Tiger…

Remy’s eyes snapped open. I must’ve fainted, he thought
calmly to himself. Oh, what on earth am I going to do with myself?
Where am I? Should I start walking again?

Remy was saved from having to make a decision by the
humming ring of his mobile phone. Still in a lying position, he
fumbled in the pockets of his jeans. Eventually, he prised the phone
out from its lair and held it to his ear.

‘H-hello?’

‘Ah, there you are, old sport. Did you realise that the
bloomin’ Un-Timer was an ancient experimental prototype? Now
everything’s even worse off than before, wot!’

‘S-sorry…but who is this?’

‘Pardon?’

‘I-I…can’t remember…’

‘Oh, dear, oh dear…hold tight, Remy, I’m on my way!’

Sighing, Remy returned his phone to his pocket. He
decided to wait. Wait for this stranger who somehow seemed to know
him. After all, what had he got to lose?