Stories From

PARADOX THEATRE

  THE NUMBERLAND TALES  

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BOOK FOUR  

BLARTS AND BOGIES

  In Which Danny Learns the Three Times Table.    

"Now tell me how you are getting on at school Danny."  

It's always the first question a grown-up asks, and Grandpa was no exception.  

"Alright." Danny answered.  

"What about tables. Bit boring I suppose for a young lad."  

"Learning tables is the most fun thing ever. It's Mr. Grimshaw the maths teacher that's boring."  

Danny knew that his grandfather would never believe that he'd learned tables while having adventures in Numberland, so he didn't try to explain.  

"Teachers boring! Whatever next. Now why don't you play in the garden while I have a nap."  

Danny ran straight to the bottom of the garden so he could climb over the wall into the enchanted woods that he'd found last time. But when he reached the wall, he found to his surprise that it was too high to climb over.  

"Funny." Thought Danny. "Walls don't grow, and I'm sure I haven't shrunk."  Then he saw a hole at the bottom of the wall, and when he lay down on the grass he found it was just big enough to wriggle through. Before he'd even thought what he was doing, he emerged on the other side.  

This time he wasn't in a wood. He was at the bottom of a hill next to a track. A moment ago in granddad’s garden it had been sunny, but here the sky was gray with ragged clouds, and though the air was warm, Danny felt a chill of uncertainty. He looked back, half thinking of returning through the hole, but he couldn't see it now among the brambles and groups of small rowan trees that covered the side of the hill.  

"Lost already." He thought, but he wasn't too worried. Getting lost seemed to be part of having an adventure, and he always arrived home in the end.  

He was wondering if this was another part of Numberland, when a strange creature emerged from a nearby group of trees.  

It was about the same height as him, hairy, and dressed in a dirty brown loincloth. But the thing that caught Danny’s attention was that it had three legs. As it came closer, Danny could see that it also had three eyes, and although it had only one nose, there were three nostrils, and one of them definitely needed wiping!  

"Where am I? Is this Numberland? And what are you?"                                                     

The creature smiled showing his yellow teeth. "You are in Ploggland which is a part of Numberland, and I am a Triplod, on account of me 'aving three feet, but most folk calls us Blarts. That's on account of our Chief; Grindlefish Flottyblart Plogg. Now what would you be if you don't mind my askin'.       

"I'm a human; a boy human. My name's Danny."  

"I'm Nit. Welcome to Ploggland. I'm on the way to the village now. Today's the annual tournament if you'd fancy joining us."  

Danny found it difficult with Nit having three eyes as they all looked in different directions, and he wasn't sure which was looking at him.        

As they walked down the hill Danny noticed that although Nit had two arms, each hand had three bony fingers, so it looked more like a bird's foot than a hand.

The feet were the same. Each foot had three long claw-like toes.

And of course it had three feet, although as Danny looked closer he realised that what looked like a middle leg was in fact a long tail with a foot at the end.  

"It's very 'andy having this ere adaptable tail leg as it means I can walk three legged like this." Nit walked on three legs, which looked funny, and Danny laughed. "Or I can hold it up like this." Now his middle leg looked like a dog's tail except it had a foot dangling from the end which looked very peculiar. "You might well laugh, but Let me tell you that an extra leg comes in very handy if you need to get a move on. Us Triplods are the only creatures to have such a facility."  

Nit was gesticulating with his hands as he spoke, and Danny found himself counting the fingers: Two hands with three fingers each.  

"Two three's are six." Said Danny out loud.  

"Did you say you feel sick?" Asked Nit.  

"No, I'm fine thanks."  

They reached a grove of oak trees.  

"Ploggsville" announced Nit proudly as they stood at the end of a row of dilapidated wooden huts. " Fancy a bite to eat?" Nit disappeared into the first hut and Danny followed.  

As he entered, Danny noticed that the door had a number three painted on it, and although the huts themselves were drab, the number was ornate, painted in yellow in a blue circle.  

"Strange." he thought, it was definitely the first hut in the village. He wondered why it was number three instead of one.  

"Wit, Zit. Look what I've found. It's an 'uman boy. Name's Danny." Two Blarts grinned at Danny as he entered. They were even more ugly than Nit. Wit had a huge fat nose covered in hairy warts, and although Zit's nose wasn't so large, most of his skin was covered in oozy yellow spots. "E's called Danny and it's come for dinner."                                            

Danny felt uncomfortable with so many bulging eyes staring at him. Three Blarts, each with three yellow eyes.  Danny counted. "Three three's are nine." He was getting good at working tables out for himself after his lessons with Frolly and Bliggins.  

"Have a seat Danny." Said Zit. "Dinner's ready. You're lucky. It's a special occasion.  Just smell that delicious aromah." Zit busied himself preparing food in the corner of the hut. It looked exactly like hot dogs. "Frot ploggs." He announced proudly.                                                           

Danny sat next to Nit and Wit who were busy chatting:  

"I've 'eard that this year's prize is the most beautiful ever."

Wit was saying. "This years champion will be a lucky old Blart."  "Someone 'as to win, could be anyone." Continued Nit.  

"Now then. I made twelve and there are four of us so that's three each, four times three being twelve if I'm not mistaken." Zit handed each of them a plate with three frot ploggs and some salad. "Speciality Zit sauce coming up in a minute."      

The other Blarts chewed noisily. Danny took a bite. It was delicious. Quite the best hot dog he had ever tasted, tender and crispy at the same time. And although he didn't usually enjoy salad, Blart salad was almost yummy.  

"Delicious eh?" Said Zit. We save this for special feast days. I make the sausages myself. Want to know what's in them?  Danny nodded. "The main ingredient is slugs, nice and fresh mind, then I adds a few insects and some herbs and spices, a few worms, a cockroach or two, and best of all a squashed frog and some dead flies. All minced together in my own mincer here on the premises. Now what about some sauce?"  

The others were helpless with laughter. "It's true, it's true!" they cried, laughing some more. "The best ones have minced mice and maggots too." giggled Nit. "Would you like some more?"  

Danny simply couldn't make up his mind whether to believe them or not. "Er no thanks. I'm not hungry actually."  

Nit and Wit thought this so funny they laughed all the more, and raising their tails in the air, slapped their feet together making a clapping noise.  

"Now come on you two. Let's not get hysterical. We're just pulling your leg young fellah. Now let's have a bit less giggling and a bit more eating or we'll never get to the tournament."  

"Pulling 'is leg. Pulling 's leg!" Laughed Nit and Wit, slapping their feet together again.                              

"Boing, boing, boing, boing, boing." A gong sounded in the distance.  

"Fifteen o clock. Time for the tournament." Nit and Wit cried together.  

"But it was only five." said Danny.  

"They're just being silly and showing off now." Said Zit. Many years ago old Chief Ploggy tried to get everyone counting in threes because we were the only creatures with three legs. Even made a law about it, but it never worked. People got confused, so in the end we went back to the old way of counting. Except for the houses. For some reason they still get numbered in threes. Mind you, at least those twerps remember that five three's are fifteen."                                                   

"Don't let Chief Ploggsey 'ear you not countin' in three's or you'll end up in the next batch of frott ploggs!" Laughed Nit. The Blarts all laughed again showing their yellow teeth.                                                  

"Come on you lot." Said Zit. "We want a good seat at the tournament."  

As they walked  through the village Danny noticed that each house had an ornate yellow number outside, and they were all in three's. Three, six, nine, twelve, fifteen, eighteen, twenty-one, twenty-four, twenty-seven...Danny looked back. They had only passed nine houses. "Nine three's must be twenty seven then." He said to himself.                                                   

The Blarts were a comic sight using their tails to wave at friends who appeared from the surrounding woods. They were in festive mood, and sang songs that Danny couldn't understand so he thought about the numbers he'd learned that day. It was funny how he enjoyed finding out about tables while he was in Numberland. Here in Ploggsville everything was in three's so he wondered if he had learned the whole three times table.  

He went through it quietly to himself  ,

"Two three's are six." He thought of the three fingers on two hands.  

"Three three's are nine;" the three Blarts each with three eyes.

"Four three's are twelve," four plates, each with three frott plogs. He still wasn't sure if they were really made from slugs and frogs.  

"Five threes are fifteen." The five gong beats made fifteen o clock. "What a silly idea." He thought.  

Look there go Hot Pot and Bot." Said Wit pointing at three female blarts. "Come on darlin' give us a kiss." The three females also had three of everything that humans have two of. They ignored Wit and carried on chatting.

"Old Misery guts." Said Wit laughing.  

"Behave yourselves. We've a visitor, and you should be more polite to young ladies." Zit scolded. Despite his jokes he seemed to be the only one with any sense.  

Market stalls now lined the path: Colourful hats and scarves in team colours, farmers selling vegetables, and from somewhere drifted the unmistakable aroma of frott ploggs. Musicians and jugglers drew cries of delight from the crowds who cheered and clapped and tossed coins towards them, wood smoke rose from the many campfires, and strange perfumes filled the air. 

"Better get the beer in." Said Nit. The three Blarts each bought a pack of six bottles from a nearby stall. The clear bottles glowed with a golden light that shone out from the amber liquid within. It looked absolutely delicious.  

Danny counted carefully. Three Blarts each had six bottles which added up to eighteen, "So six three's must be eighteen." he said to himself.  

"Want to try some real Blart beer?" Asked Wit.  

"Oh yes please." Danny had often wondered what beer tasted like but he'd never been allowed to try before.  Nit handed Danny the bottle he'd been drinking from. Danny wiped it carefully and took a large gulp. It tasted like fizzy sick!  He spat it out which the Blarts found uproariously funny.  

They were still chuckling when they reached the entrance to the tournament ground that was simply a field with grassy banks sloping down to it.  

"Entrance fee is Seven Proots each." Said a Blart with a squeaky voice and a moneybag hanging over his shoulder.  

"Ee's a guest so he doesn't 'ave to pay." Said Zit, pointing at Danny.  

"Just three then. That's twenty one proots all together, seven times three being twenty one if I'm not mistaken."  

Zit paid, counting out the twenty-one copper coins, and the four of them found a place on a grassy bank among the other Blarts.  

Danny enjoyed being with the Blarts. They were a bit simple, very ugly, and at times rather disgusting, but they had a sense of fun, even if apart from Zit, they didn't have much sense.  

He was surprised to see that the tournament ground was set out like a cricket pitch with a scoreboard and wickets, except that there were three sets of wickets arranged in a triangle.

At one end was a raised platform draped with red and gold cloth.  

"Cricket|" Exclaimed Danny. "My favourite game! I'm the best batsman in the whole school."  

"It's whackit, not cricket." Said Nit. "What's school?"  

Danny was about to try and explain, but the crowd suddenly went quiet and an out of tune fanfare blared out. Several Blarts ascended the platform.  They were too far off for Danny to see well but he joined in as the Blarts cheered and clapped.                                                       

"Chief Flottyblart and Plomper, his daughter." Wit whispered.  

The teams came onto the field and stood in rows to the sound of solemn music.

There were eight players on each team. They were easy to count because they stood in rows. It reminded him of the rows of coins Bliggins had shown him in his last adventure.           

Nit leaned towards Danny. "The Warts wear pink hats, the Wets 'ave orange, and us Ploggs wear purple."  

Danny counted. Twenty-four all together; three rows of eight. "Eight three's are twenty four. "He said quietly to himself.                                     

Zit continued "The Wets won last year, but it's this year that matters. The champion of the winning team gets the most wonderful prize you could ever imagine.  The champion gets...."  

Zit didn't manage to finish because at that moment a huge cheer went up and the game began. It may have looked like a cricket match was going to take place, but it wasn't like one Danny had ever seen before.  

For a start all three teams were in at once, so it was difficult to tell who was bowling at whom. The three umpires argued continually among themselves, and although someone was keeping the score, Danny couldn't see how the points were awarded. The Batsmen hardly ever hit the ball because having three eyes looking in different directions at once makes it just about impossible. And with three teams fielding and batting at the same time the tournament was complete chaos.  

The Blarts were having a wonderful time cheering and shouting, whenever someone hit the ball. They didn't seem to care about scores and rules. Most of them were drinking beer, and they were getting very drunk.  

The taste of Blart beer still lingered in Danny's mouth. He thought about the bottles, which reminded him of tables. "Six three's are eighteen, and seven three's were twenty one." he'd learned that at the gate, "And eight three's are twenty four." He'd worked that out seeing the teams line up at the start. "What about nine three's? Oh yes, the house numbers. Nine three's are twenty-seven. Ten times anything is easy. He'd learned that from Bliggins, so ten three's was thirty.  

"That's it!" Said Danny out loud.  

"That's what?" Asked Nit.  

Danny didn't get chance to reply because at that moment the crowd went wild. One of the batsmen had been hit hard on the nose by a ball. Blood poured out of all three nostrils.  

"Foul." Cried the Blarts. "Send him off." They were so drunk they didn't seem to care about the poor batsman who'd been injured.  

"Substitute." They cried. "Send on another player. Someone who can hit the ball."  

"He's really good." Shouted Nit, pointing at Danny.  

Before Danny could protest he was carried onto the field and given a bat. Someone stuck a purple hat on his head, and the crowd cheered. Immediately a ball flew towards him and he hit it hard. He wasn't sure whether he should run or not, but another one came flying at him so he hit that too, right over the heads of the crowd.  

The Blarts roared their approval. They didn't seem to care which team was winning as long as someone hit the ball.  

Before long, all three teams were bowling at Danny. He sent balls in all directions, to the ecstatic cheers of the crowd who joined in by throwing fruit and vegetables and even eggs that they had bought outside the ground. Danny did his best. The cabbages were easy enough, but tomatoes and eggs just splattered, and he was soon very messy.  

"Whackit." They all cried together as Danny hit a cauliflower towards the chief's podium. Chief Flottyblart and his daughter ducked and cheered along with the rest.  

Danny hadn't enjoyed himself so much for ages. He loved batting, and he enjoyed the way Blarts didn't take everything too seriously, and just played for the fun of it.  

Before long the Blarts were shouting. "The winner. The Champion."

Suddenly they poured onto the pitch and Danny was carried aloft and placed upon the platform where the Chief stood next to his daughter.

A trumpet fanfare sounded, and a hush fell upon the Blarts.  

"Chief Grindlefish Flottyblart Plogg. We present to you and your beautiful daughter Plomper, the champion of the tournament!"

Wild cheering broke out.  

For the first time Danny saw the chief and his daughter close up. He was like the others, but bigger, uglier, spottier, hairier, and fatter. He was not a pretty sight. Then Danny saw Plomper. Of all the Blarts he had seen, she was certainly the ugliest. Her matted hair hung down, half covering two of her three bulging eyes that were red and bloodshot. Her face was covered in yellow oozy spots, and she was extremely fat. She grinned at Danny, showing her yellow and brown crooked teeth.  

Danny suddenly noticed the crowd cheering again and he could hear a voice speaking.  

"....And so as is the custom, Danny, the supreme champion of the Tournament, shall take the hand of Plomper Flottyblart, the daughter of Chief Grindlefish Flottyblart Plogg, to be his wife for as long as they both shall live.  Danny you may now kiss your bride."  

"What!!!" Cried Danny in horrified disbelief.  There were some quite pretty girls in his class at school and he wouldn't even want to kiss them. He certainly wasn't going to kiss this awful creature.  

"You may now kiss your bride." Repeated the voice.  

Plomper smiled at Danny as something green and sticky oozed from her middle nostril and dribbled down towards her lips. She licked it off with her long slimy tongue.

 "But... " Danny couldn't think of anything to say as Plomper took a step towards him grinning.                                                    

"You don't want to offend the Chief. He can be very unpleasant." Said a voice behind him.  

Plomper came a step closer. He could feel her breath on his face. He could smell it too: Like rotten cabbage only worse.  

"I... I" Danny felt he was going to be sick.  

"I'd run for it if I were you." Danny turned to see Zit standing next to him. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life with Plomper Flottyblart."  

"Kiss the bride. Kiss the Bride." The crowd was chanting wildly.  

Danny didn't think twice. He jumped from the platform and ran, faster than he had ever run in his life.

Out of the tournament ground and away from the village he ran. He didn't have time to think about the way home, he just ran and ran.  

He could hear shouts behind him. "he insults our chief! He spurns his bride.  After him!  

Danny ran. He didn't dare look back.  

The voices sounded nearer. "We'll roast him, skin him, make him into frott ploggs. Get him!"  

Danny was becoming breathless. He couldn't run much more.  

The Blarts were getting close. The extra leg gave them speed. He could see one to his left overtaking him, then another to his right.  

"Get him. Tear him to bits." The drunken Blarts were almost upon him. Danny knew he couldn't escape. He began to slow down. He wished he'd never left his granddad’s garden. Then he remembered. He was in Numberland. The tables!.  

"Two three's are six. Three three's are nine." He said loudly. "Four three's are twelve."  He thought about the four plates of grott ploggs, then that silly business about fifteen o clock.

"Five three's are fifteen." The voices began to fade.

"Six three's are eighteen," he remembered the disgusting beer. "Seven three's? What are seven three's. Oh yes, they paid to go into the ground. "Seven three's are twenty one."

He was travelling very fast now, although he had almost slowed to a walk. The hills around him were a blur, but he could see more trees flashing past. He could no longer hear the Blarts

"Eight three's are twenty four, nine three's are twenty seven."

Danny remembered the Whackit teams and the house numbers.

"And Ten three's are thirty!"                                         

The Blarts were miles behind him now. He stopped by some ash trees at the side of a road. He had no idea where he was, it was surely a long way from his home, but at least he had escaped those Blarts.  He lay down, too exhausted to move.

He shuddered at the thought of Plomper. He felt just a little bit sorry for her. She couldn't help being so ugly. It was just that, well, he wasn't quite ready for marriage yet. Anyway there were plenty of Blarts who thought she was beautiful. It was all a matter of taste.  

With that he fell asleep and dreamed of horses and castles and goblins, and a beautiful fairy princess.  

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