Terry the Toe Tickler produces a pink feather duster on the end of a very long stick.

  “You cannot out-tickle a tickler…” he declares before he too falls into fits of laughter. “Ha! Ha ha ha … heeeeeee… Stop tickling! STOP TICKLING!”

  Soon enough, Ivan the Horrible’s entire army are dancing and skipping round in circles as the little mice go to work inside their suits of armour, scratching and nibbling away.

  “Stop this giggling!” yells Ivan the Horrible. “There will be no LAUGHTER among my band of bloodthirsty brigands, no SNIGGERING between my sentinels of doom and no CHUCKLING within my battle-hardened battalions!”

  Bruno the Bone Breaker, Thor the Eyeball Sucker and Terry the Toe Tickler put on dead straight faces, biting their quivering lips, creased up on the inside.

  “That’s better,” snarls Ivan.

  But the strain to stop giggling is too much and suddenly Thor the Eyeball Sucker lets out a high-pressured pipsqueak of a fart.

  Everyone falls about laughing.

  “It’s unbearable!” groans Bruno, trying to unbuckle his breastplate.

  “It’s intolerable!” cries Thor, rubbing his back against a wall.

  “My tickling days are behind me!” wails Terry the Toe Tickler, throwing his tickling stick in the air and hopping hysterically out of the castle gates.

  Ivan’s army tumble down the hill, stumbling and screaming, scratching and shrieking, before falling into the moat. Everyone in the castle cheers and shouts.

  Except for Ivan – he’s not happy at all. And he brings out his really big sword and swipes it around his head, menacingly. “Playtime is over!” he growls.

  He drops his visor over his face, leaving no gap, not even for the mousiest mouse in the house. “Prepare to die!”

  Ivan runs at me, flashing his sword. I bring up my shield as the blows rain down. “It’s the end for you, John Smith!” he roars.

  I draw my sword but Ivan smashes it away.

  “Is that the best you can do?” he thunders.

  He plunges his sword into my shield and rips it out of my hands.

  “Now you are defenceless,” he rages.

  He takes several strides towards me, his sword at the ready.

  “I can smell victory,” he booms.

  He’s given me an idea!

  I spin sideways and grab Ossie’s bow and arrow.

  “A bow and arrow?” laughs Ivan. “What match is that for my suit of iron?”

  “We’ll see about that,” I grunt.

  I turn to the beggar with the pongy feet.

  “One kilo of your finest toe cheese, please.”

  “Coming up,” says the beggar.

  He scrapes a rich seam of toe goo on to the arrowhead.

  “What is this potion?” says Ivan.

  “Why don’t you try some for yourself?” I reply.

  I draw the arrow back and fire it straight at Ivan. It zips through the air and wedges in his visor.

  Everyone holds their breath.

  Ivan starts to cough and choke. He flaps his arms around, staggers towards me, sneezing and wheezing.

  “Oh, the pong, the pongy, PONG, PONG…” he gurgles.

  He raises his sword into the air, stands still for a good few seconds … then comes tumbling down with an almighty crash!

  “The smell has knocked him out!” gasps Perkin.

  “What are we going to do now?” says Ossie.

  “Now we take him and wedge him into the catapult!” I reply. So we gather round and lift him into the sling.

  Ivan opens his eyes and looks around.

  “What happened?” he groans. “Where am I?”

  “Ready to launch!” I holler.

  “What are you doing?” he shrieks.

  “Chucking out the garbage,” I chuckle. “OK, boys, take it away!”

  Everyone in the castle joins in with the countdown…

  “Three! Two! One!”

  Ossie slashes the rope and releases the catapult.

  “Waaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!”

  Ivan flies over the castle wall and plunges into the moat. That’s definitely the last we’ll be seeing of him!

  “Three cheers for John Smith!” says Ossie. “For he is the greatest!”

  They carry me round the courtyard, chanting my name.

  I could get used to this life!

  CHAPTER NINE

  “You have done well this day, John Smith,” says the Queen. “You have seen off Ivan the Horrible. You have freed our people to live in peace and prosperity, and for that we thank you.”

  “All in a day’s work, Your Maj,” I grin.

  The Queen takes a long shiny sword and asks me to kneel. I think I know what’s coming next. It’s goodbye, plain old John Smith. From now on they’ll be calling me Sir John the Brave!

  “All that is left for me to say,” announces the Queen, “is CHOP HIS HEAD OFF!”

  The guards close in around me and pull me to my feet. Well, this is a fine thank-you for saving the day! I don’t know why I bothered. What is the Queen doing?

  “You stole my precious red ruby!” says the Queen.

  “I … what? Not me, Your Majesty,” I splutter.

  The Queen points at the tapestry on the wall, the one Ossie showed me earlier. “So what do you call this, then?”

  I look at the tapestry. I see Ossie and his mum and dad, Egbert, Perkin … and there in the far corner is a picture of me with my grubby mitts on the Queen’s red ruby!

  “Do you take me for a complete blockhead?” she growls. “You are John Smith, aren’t you?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I nod.

  “And as you have said yourself,” continues the Queen, “you are the only John Smith in the land!”

  “But that can’t be me!” I protest.

  And then the penny drops. Granddad was here a long time ago and it was Granddad who took the Queen’s ruby! That’s why Granddad didn’t want me to go on this adventure! That’s why he warned me not to lose my head!

  “Off with his head…” says the Queen.

  Woodworm the executioner steps forward with his really sharp axe. “My pleasure, Your Majesty,” he smiles.

  I spring to my feet, run across the courtyard and leap on to Daisy. Everyone is shouting “Come back, John Smith!” or “There he goes – the Special One!”

  “I’m not the Special One,” I cry. “I’m a totally ordinary little boy. Just leave me alone.”

  I gallop away, charging through washing lines and splashing through puddles until Daisy rears up and throws me on to the cobblestones. I look up and see Woodworm blocking my way.

  “Sorry,” says the Queen, “but it’s the end of the road for you.”

  Woodworm slides his finger down the blade of his axe.

  “Chop his head off,” says the Queen.

  Woodworm lifts the axe.

  “If you chop his head off,” says Ossie, “you’ll never get your ruby back!”

  The Queen thinks about it for a moment.

  “That’s true,” admits the Queen. “So what do you propose to do about it?”

  “We’ll return the ruby, Your Majesty,” says Ossie. Then he looks at me and nods. “We can do it, can’t we, John?”

  “Absolutely,” I smile, “one hundred per cent. You have my word.”

  What they don’t know is I can escape just by saying the magic words that got me here in the first place.

  “To stop you running away, Ossie,” warns the Queen, “we’ll look after your mother and father.”

  The guards close in round Ossie’s mum and dad. The Queen pats Ossie on the head. “Do this for me and I promise your mother a lifetime’s supply of turnips.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” says Ossie’s mum, scraping a curtsy down to the ground.

  “But if you don’t return my ruby,” continues the Queen, “we’ll throw your parents in a dungeon for a thousand years!”

  “And get to work on their tootsies!” sneers Woodworm, holding up Terry the Toe Tickler’s tickling stick.

  Oh dear, now there is no escape. I have to get the ruby back to the Queen.

  “You have one hour to return my ruby!” she says.

  “It’s a deal!” I reply. “Come on, Ossie, let’s go.”

  We walk out of the castle gate and over the drawbridge.

  “Where now?” says Ossie.

  “Now, we’re going to a strange land, far, far away…” I smile.

  At least I hope we’re going to a strange land far, far away. I haven’t got a clue whether I can take Ossie back with me. Only one way to find out.

  I hold Ossie’s hand as I speak the magic words…

  “Say it long, say it loud – I’m JOHN SMITH and I’m proud!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “What is this land of miracles?” gasps Ossie.

  “This is my granddad’s bedroom,” I reply.

  I’m surprised to find that I’m still in my knight’s costume.

  “It is a most marvellous place,” says Ossie. “Filled with many wonders!” Ossie lifts Granddad’s dentures out of a glass by the side of the bed. “Maybe we should ask this magical talking mouth where we can find the ruby…”

  At that moment Granddad walks into the room.

  “Maybe we should just ask my granddad,” I reply. “That’s why you didn’t want me to be a knight in armour, Granddad, because you stole the Queen’s red ruby!”

  “I didn’t steal the Queen’s ruby,” says Granddad. “I thought it was a present for defeating Norman the Norman – and that’s a whole other story!”

  “I nearly got my head chopped off,” I frown.

  “I’m sorry about that,” sighs Granddad.

  “We need to get the ruby back to the Queen,” says Ossie.

  “Mmmm,” says Granddad, “that might be a bit of a problem. Your sister has borrowed the ruby, John!”

  “Well, I’ll turn her room upside down until I find it!” I protest.

  “The trouble is, the ruby’s not in her room,” replies Granddad.

  “Where is it, Granddad?” I scowl.

  “She’s wearing it in the school play!” murmurs Granddad.

  “What?” I gasp. “I’ve got to get it back to the Queen!”

  “Then you’d better get your skates on,” says Granddad. “The show’s about to start!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “That’s Hayley in the middle of the stage,” I whisper.

  Picture the scene: I’m shuffling along a beam which is over the stage in Hayley’s school – her BIG SCHOOL. A few feet below me, Hayley is singing her heart out in the school musical with Rufus. Around Hayley’s neck is the Queen’s fat red ruby! As you can see, it’s all very dramatic…

  I take a deep breath.

  “We mess this up, Ossie, and they’re going to put my head on a spike, bury me alive and feed me to the birds!” I gulp.

  “Understood,” says Ossie. “I think…”

  Hayley and Rufus are in the middle of a cheesy song.

  “What do you reckon, Ossie?”

  “It’s going to be a brilliant success,” says Ossie.

  “You really think so?”

  “Just listen to that lovely singing!” he sighs.

  “Not the musical! What do you reckon of our chances?”

  “Ooh,” Ossie scrunches his nose. “For a normal boy this would be a disaster. But for you, John Smith, anything is possible.”

  Ossie looks at me and winks.

  “Hold my ankles, Ossie…” I grunt.

  This is a very tricky situation. Hayley is about to do a girly, yucky, gooey, kissy-kissy snogathon with Rufus who already totally hates my guts. And I’m about to drop on the stage and spoil the show.

  “After we’re done here – meet me back at the house,” I whisper.

  “Good luck,” says Ossie, “and remember – your people love you…”

  Here’s my plan: when Hayley kisses Rufus, the lights will go down. Before the lights come up again, I will drop in the darkness and snatch the ruby from around my sister’s neck.

  That is the plan.

  This is what happens.

  Ossie lowers me down a bit too quickly, and I plunge upside down between my sister and Rufus in view of the audience, but they’ve both got their eyes closed, which is what people do when they’re about to kiss and what you should definitely do if you’re about to kiss my sister because she looks like a camel.

  So Rufus is moving in for the kill but instead of kissing my sister he kisses me, ON THE LIPS, on stage, in front of the headmaster, the teachers, a reporter from the local newspaper, Mum and Dad and five hundred other mums and dads at Cherry Tree School.

  Everyone is extremely shocked. I am extremely shocked. Ossie is extremely shocked. And he puts his hands to his face and cries out “No!!!!!” which means he’s not holding my ankles. Which means I drop directly on top of my sister and she rolls over with her feet in the air and her knickers on show.

  Everyone falls about laughing.

  Rufus stares at me, his face all mean and twisted.

  “YOU … YOU … YOU!!!”

  He jumps at me, slips on Hayley’s skirt, falls off the edge of the stage and crashes into the orchestra.

  I grab the ruby and run through the audience. The headmaster kicks his chair away and shouts, “Stop that boy!” and the chase is on. The mums, dads and teachers of Cherry Tree School are coming after me!

  I run out of the school and into the playground. Oh no, they’ve locked the school gates…

  “Give it up,” says the headmaster.

  Everyone makes a big circle all around me. There’s no way I’m getting the ruby back to the Queen now. Ossie’s mum and dad are getting their feet tickled for a thousand years!

  Then I get an idea.

  I see a big wheelie bin at the top of the playground. I’ll ride it into the school gates as fast as I can. I’m going to smash my way to freedom.

  I leap on to the bin. Next stop home!

  CRUNCH!!!

  The bin bashes through the school gates. Everything in the bin goes flying in the air. I get a face full of rotting bones, smelly veg and dirty disgusting bin juice.

  I wipe the slime from my eyes and pick a kipper from my mouth.

  “Until we meet again,” I announce.

  I steer the bin down the hill and towards my house.

  “I’ll get you, John Smith!” screams Hayley.

  I ride the bin across town, jump free at the garden gate, sprint up the path, through the front door and belt up the stairs.

  Ossie is sitting on Granddad’s bed, waiting for me.

  “The Queen’s ruby!” I gasp.

  Ossie takes the brilliant red gem and slides it into his pocket.

  “Farewell, John Smith,” he smiles. “This has been a brilliant adventure.”

  “Before you go, I want to say something,” I mutter. “About my name – it isn’t special or rare. The truth is, John Smith is the most common name in the world. It’s like my mum says – I’m one in a million…”

  Ossie looks at me in a really weird way. “Your mum says you’re one in a million?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I shrug.

  “You know, for a smart boy, you can be a bit of a tickle-brain!” he laughs. “Maybe your mum means you’re one in a million to her!”

  “Oh, right,” I reply.

  I still don’t know what he’s going on about.

  I hear Hayley leading the charge up the road. I’m running out of time.

  “Get this ruby back to the Queen…” I whisper.

  “I’ll make sure it’s done,” says Ossie. “Goodbye, Sir John Smith…”

  “Goodbye, Oswald Periwinkle,” I reply.

  Then we both burst out laughing.

  The bit after everything has happened…

  I write a letter to the headmaster pretending to be someone in the audience saying the whole show had been a brilliant stunt and well done Cherry Tree School for an evening of unexpected entertainment. The headmaster has no choice but to agree and the matter is quietly dropped.

  Show and Tell is the best ever because I draw my own comic strip with the whole story in cartoons from beginning to end and I show the class my drawing and tell them this incredible story – about this really ordinary boy with this extraordinary life who went into battle as a knight in shining armour, and do you think anyone believes me? Of course they don’t! After all … I’m JOHN SMITH.

  But you know, don’t you.

  “I expect you’ll want to prepare yourself for the bloody skirmish that is about to follow,” says the pirate with the banana bandana, walking with me to what looks like the captain’s cabin.

  “Oh yes,” I chuckle. “I can’t wait to get my hands on that Captain Black. Why, I’ll kick him in the shin and give him a Chinese burn…”

  “And kill him?” says the pirate with the banana bandana.

  “You betcha!” I nod.

  “And keelhaul him?” he grunts.

  “Absolutely. I’ll keelhaul him like a good ’un,” I reply. “What again, just remind me, is keelhauling?”

  “Simple, Captain,” he smiles. “You tie a man on to a piece of rope, throw him in the water and drag him under the ship, where the barnacles scrape his belly to bits.”

  That is a very strange party game! Still, it beats blind man’s bluff or stick the tail on the donkey any day of the week.

  “I’ll man the lookout,” says the pirate with the banana bandana. “Will you be wanting your usual pre-skirmish meal, Cap’n?”

 

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