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Harvey Drew and the Junk Skunks




  Contents

  Title Page

  ALSO BY CAS LESTER

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Flight Manual for Intergalactic Garbage Spaceship the Toxic Spew

  Contents

  Top Ten Most Deadly Garbage Pests in the Entire Known Universe, and Beyond

  Flight Deck Controls

  Safety Equipment

  Rules and Regulations

  Guide to Alien Languages

  Top Ten Most Useful Space Facts [by Rockers ch]

  Awesome Limericks!

  A Special Thank You to the Following Story Adventurers for Supporting This Book:

  Contributors

  Acknowledgements

  Cas Lester

  Copyright

  ALSO BY CAS LESTER

  Harvey Drew and the Bin Men from Outer Space

  Harvey Drew and the Bling Bots

  Nixie the Bad, Bad Fairy

  For the Bin Men of Britain – with sincere thanks, because without you we'd all be in a terrible mess

  Chapter One

  The grubbiest galaxy in the Entire Known Universe, and Beyond

  THWUMP!

  A pair of stonkingly filthy space boots walloped down onto the garbage control desk of the spaceship Toxic Spew. They were full of Chief Rubbish Officer Scrummage’s feet. Which, in all honesty, were even more revoltingly filthy than his boots. And even smellier than the spaceship. And that says a lot.

  ‘Captain!’ protested Senior Engineering Officer Gizmo. ‘Must we put up with such slobby manners on the command bridge?’ He sneered arrogantly down his hooked nose at his fellow officer. ‘He’s smearing grime all over the surface!’

  As a matter of fact, it was more that Scrummage’s boots were mixing new grime with the disgusting cocktail of grease and muck that already covered the garbage desk – and, frankly, every other surface, corner and inch of the ship as well. But hey, let’s not be picky about this. Anyhow, it was a greenish slimy grime and I don’t even want to think about where it might have come from.

  To be fair, Chief Rubbish Officer Scrummage was, at the same time, also operating a bit of very complicated, high-tech, galaxy-class space equipment – a vacuum cleaner.

  Because the Toxic Spew is the plucky little rubbish ship whose five-year mission is to collect all the intergalactic garbage from Galaxy 43b. It’s a hopeless task because that particular far-flung corner of the universe is littered with space trash and is unimaginably filthy.

  (No, listen, you’re from Earth, so I bet you’ve never even left your planet on a day trip into outer space. So you have no idea what it’s like in the rest of the universe, have you?

  This’ll help – imagine your home was in space, and you chucked all your waste out of the window – and I mean all of it – even the stuff that goes down the loo. Gross.

  Now you can picture Galaxy 43b.

  It’s officially the grubbiest galaxy in the Entire Known Universe, and Beyond.

  And Guess what – the Toxic Spew is officially the grubbiest spaceship in the Entire Known Universe, and Beyond.

  And don’t even ask about the crew.)

  Scrummage was busily – no, make that lazily and sloppily – operating the ship’s Ultrawave 3.2 Vacuum Pump and sucking up a pool of grossly gloopy space glop that was slurping around just in front of the ship. It was a dead easy job and a bit boring, so Scrummage had set the pump controls to Super Nova Nozzle Plus and flicked it on to Auto-Suck, and he didn’t see why he shouldn’t put his filthy feet up on his filthy control desk and relax at the same time.

  ‘Like a bit of extra dirt’s going to make a difference!’ snorted Pilot Officer Maxie from the flight controls and grinning at the captain from under her multi-coloured fringe.

  The grubbiest spaceship in the Entire Known Universe, and Beyond

  Captain Harvey Drew looked around the repulsively grubby command bridge of the little Class 4 Intergalactic Garbage Ship. The deck and control desks were littered with, well, litter – chocolate wrappers, pizza crusts, rotting apple cores and something that looked as though it might have once been a lump of gherkin. But then again, it might not.

  The surfaces were all generously coated with sticky grunge, and sweaty black mould grew on the walls. It was gross. Frankly, it was beyond gross. In all his eleven years he’d never seen anything so revolting.

  (I should probably explain that when I say ‘In all his eleven years’ I don’t mean he’s been a spaceship captain for eleven years. It’s that Harvey is eleven.

  You’re probably wondering how an eleven-year-old boy gets to be captain of a spaceship.

  I haven’t got time to explain that right now.

  Sorry.)

  ‘Anyhow what does it matter as long as Scrummage is doing his job?’ added Maxie. She only said it to wind Gizmo up. It worked. His turquoise eyes glared at her from under his white eyebrows and his purple face turned pale lilac. It didn’t suit him.

  (It might interest you to know, that on Planet Zeryx Minor, which is the home planet of officers Gizmo, Maxie and Scrummage, everyone has multi-coloured hair, turquoise eyes and purple skin.

  But then again, given how little you Earth folks get out and about in outer space, it probably won’t interest you at all.

  Honestly, what are you like?)

  ‘Maxie’s right,’ said Harvey, brushing his floppy red hair out of his eyes and leaning forward in the tatty black captain’s chair. Through the huge vision screens at the front of the bridge, he watched the giant hose of the vacuum pump slurping away and sucking up the space glop. ‘As long as the job’s getting done.’

  ‘Yup!’ said Scrummage smugly, with his feet still on the desk and his huge belly straining his overalls to breaking point. ‘It’ll soon be finished.’

  But then again, maybe it wouldn’t. Because suddenly

  WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP!

  all the alarms on the garbage desk went off.

  Chapter Two

  Flickering spew! There’s a blockage!

  Harvey watched fascinated, and then horrified, as the giant vacuum hose bulged like a boa constrictor swallowing an outsize rhinoceros, and started juddering violently.

  Orange warning lights flashed around the bridge, making it look even more ghastly than usual.

  ‘Flickering spew!’ cried Scrummage, swinging his legs off the desk and jumping to his feet. ‘There’s a blockage!’

  He hitched up his overalls over his outsized belly and raced off the bridge.

  Harvey leapt out of the tatty black captain’s chair and followed him, rushing past Officer Yargal who’d just arrived on the bridge.

  ‘I need to speak with you, Captain!’ she cried, flailing her six blue tentacles anxiously. Her green slug-like body trembled in alarm and her three yellow googly eyes waggled wildly.

  Since Yargal is both the ship’s Medical Officer and Ship’s Cook, you would think the captain would at leas
t stop and listen to her, especially when she announced, ‘It’s a matter of life and death!’

  (But then she’s a Yargillian, and they’re well known for being hyper hysterical, mega melodramatic and super sensational.

  They are also, officially, the ugliest aliens in the Entire Known Universe, and Beyond. But it’s tactless to mention it. So please don’t.)

  ‘Back in a minute!’ yelled Harvey, who was used to Officer Yargal being over excited, over emotional and over the top.

  (Funnily enough he’s not used to her being revoltingly ugly and repulsively slimy. He’ll probably never get used to that.)

  ‘Assuming command!’ cried Senior Engineering Officer Gizmo pompously, striding to the captain’s chair. He never missed a chance to take control of the ship.

  ‘Yeah, yeah! Whatever!’ said Maxie, at the flight desk, rolling her eyes. ‘Just don’t expect me to do anything you say.’

  ‘Pilot Officer Maxie,’ snipped Gizmo irritably, ‘may I remind you of the Intergalactic Travel and Transport Pact rules and regulations regarding senior officers taking command in the absence of a captain?’

  ‘Again, yeah, yeah, whatever, and don’t expect me to do anything you say,’ she replied, pushing up her sleeves and glaring at him challengingly, her bright turquoise eyes glittering dangerously. Gizmo flinched.

  Although Maxie wasn’t much older than Harvey, she was a brilliant pilot and the only one who could actually fly the Toxic Spew and she didn’t like being bossed about by a snotty Senior Engineering Officer like Gizmo. Actually, she didn’t like being bossed about by anyone.

  Gizmo sniffed pompously, settled himself into the captain’s chair, and chose to ignore her.

  Yargal was lumbering off after Harvey, her single snail-like foot leaving a glistening slime trail across the deck as she went. Several seconds later she’d still only just reached the doors.

  Everything under control - or not!

  Scrummage ran remarkably quickly for a man who claimed everything was under control. He also ran remarkably quickly for a man of his stature and size (which is a polite way of saying he was short and fat) not to mention remarkably quickly for someone running along the treacherously slippery and slimy floors of the Toxic Spew.

  Moments later, he and Harvey pelted into the Vacuum Control Centre, down in the hold of the spaceship. Red lights flashed furiously on the pump machine next to three warning symbols:

  • an exclamation mark,

  • a skull,

  • and what looked horribly like a picture of an explosion.

  ‘What do those mean?’ Harvey hardly dared to ask.

  ‘No idea!’ said Scrummage.

  ‘Seriously?!’ gasped Harvey, staggered at how little Scrummage knew about the garbage collection kit. Staggered, but not surprised.

  ‘There must be a user manual somewhere!’ exclaimed Harvey, rapidly looking around for one.

  There wasn’t.

  Scrummage strode up to the machine, then fearlessly ignoring the flashing warning sign on the top that read:

  IN EVENT OF BLOCKAGE DO NOT REMOVE COVER

  he removed the cover. Did I say ‘fearlessly’? I think I should have said ‘foolishly’, because …

  KA-BOOM!

  Chapter Three

  Fluttering vomit!

  There was an ominous explosion and the end of the hose shot off the Ultrawave 3.2 Vacuum Pump, spewing foul smelling toxic gloop everywhere.

  KERSPLAT!

  Half the control room, and most of Harvey, was plastered in slimy gunk, and a huge dollop of goo-covered space junk crashed onto the floor.

  ‘Whatever you do, don’t lick your lips!’ warned Scrummage urgently, who had (remarkably) managed to stay clear of the mess.

  ‘Space gloop is horribly toxic and if you swallow any your guts will fill with gas and you’ll blow up like a balloon!’ he added. Then, eyeing the pile of trash on the floor he cried, ‘Fluttering vomit! No wonder the hose got blocked!’

  Harvey surveyed the heap of garbage. An odd round lump caught his eye. Cautiously he gave it a tap with his foot. It rolled.

  ‘It’s a football!’ he exclaimed in disbelief, but through firmly clenched teeth. Harvey really missed football. Back home he was used to playing every single day, but he hadn’t had a kick-about since he’d left Earth and stopped being the captain of the Highford All Stars and become the captain of the Toxic Spew instead.

  (You might be wondering how he went from being the captain of a football team to being the captain of a spaceship … and I don’t blame you.

  But, sorry, I still haven’t got time to explain.)

  ‘How on Earth did a football get into outer space?’ wondered Harvey.

  (I hate to be picky. But that is a ridiculous question.

  Because, obviously, the football couldn’t be both on Earth and in outer space at the same time.)

  There was another smaller round object in the junk.

  Harvey peered at it. ‘Is that a tennis ball?’

  Scrummage examined it closely. ‘Flickering chunder!’ he yelped, panic-stricken. ‘That’s the planet Microscopica Minor – the tiniest planet in the Entire Known Universe, and Beyond. We’re going to have to put that back. We’ll get into terrible trouble if the Intergalactic Traffic Police find out we’ve sucked that up!’

  Anxiously he prodded around to see what else they’d vacuumed aboard by mistake.

  ‘That’s the rear-end grill of a subsonic head gasket,’ he announced, pointing to a rusty bit of metal that had broken off another spaceship. ‘If I clean that up it might be useful! And look!’ he cried excitedly, picking up a bit of tatty old computer equipment. ‘That’s the Wi-Fi control panel from the Toxic Spew! Gizmo will be well chuffed!’

  ‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ said Harvey in disbelief, keeping his lips as still as possible.

  (Which is actually incredibly difficult. And, in the interests of being accurate, I should probably say that what he actually said was ‘Leez tell ne you’re yoking.’)

  Scrummage goes all soppy

  The rest of the junk was mostly pretty unidentifiable except for a couple of empty pizza boxes and what looked like a large bright orange egg. It was cracked. Actually, it was in the middle of cracking, and right before their very eyes.

  ‘Er … Scrummage,’ said Harvey nervously, ‘what’s that?’

  (Look, I’m sorry to keep interrupting, but I don’t want to suggest that Harvey is the nervous type. It’s just that in the short time he’s been on the Toxic Spew, he’s learnt to be wary of any alien life forms you find in space trash.

  You know, like poisonous pink killer maggots from Venomoid Flux who inject you with poison, melt your insides and suck up your innards like soup.

  You’ve got to admit, he’s got a point.)

  As he looked at the egg, Scrummage’s face softened and went all soppy. ‘Ahhhhh,’ he cooed. ‘It’s a baby Gordonzola … and it’s hatching!’ Gently he scooped it up. ‘I’m going to keep it,’ he announced, adding proudly, ‘I’m going to call it Gordon!’

  Harvey was just about to ask what a Gordonzola was and whether it was actually wise to keep one, when Yargal arrived, trembling with exhaustion.

  ‘Captain, it really is urgent!’ she panted.

  (Since the story has just got to a quite interesting bit, you’d probably prefer it if I told you more about the Gordonzola at another time, wouldn’t you?

  That’s the problem with you Earth people. You’re just not really interested in other life forms, are you?)

  A dribble of space gloop was just oozing between Harvey’s lips so he dashed off to his quarters to clean up, promising Yargal he’d meet her on the bridge afterwards. Scrummage gently put the Gordonzola, still in its egg, safely out of harm’s way, and set about trying to fix the hose back onto the Ultrawave 3.2 Vacuum Pump.

  Yargal sighed wearily and slithered off again. Even though she hurried straight to the bridge as fast as her slippery sucky foot would let her,
and she didn’t stop to:

  • shower, or

  • change her uniform, or

  • grab a handful of jellybeans (like Harvey did, from the machine in his quarters), he actually got back to the bridge before she did.

  ‘Captain,’ she puffed, finally catching up with him, ‘I have … something terrible … to tell you …’

  But before she could finish, Scrummage radioed up and interrupted her.

  (I bet you’re desperate to know what Yargal needs to tell Harvey. Well, you’re just going to have to wait until the next chapter.

  Bad luck.)

  Chapter Four

  Gobsmacked

  Harvey was gobsmacked to hear Scrummage ask Gizmo’s advice. The two officers were constantly slinging insults, hurling punches and aiming occasional kicks at each other. Before Harvey joined them, they’d waged a constant ‘battle for the command of the ship’ with Maxie caught in the middle. It was chaos.

  ‘Gizmo, I’m re-attaching the vacuum hose duct onto the pump flange tube,’ said Scrummage. Harvey listened carefully hoping to pick up some technical tips.

  ‘Which sticky tape should I use?’ continued Scrummage. ‘The red one or the green and yellow stripy one?’

  Harvey was gobwalloped! ‘Hang on! You’re not seriously going to repair the galaxy-class Ultrawave 3.2 Vacuum Pump with a bit of sticky tape?’