Journey to Flush Fleas and Beyond (Book 2 in The Galactic Adventures of Alex McKenzie series)

By Larry Rosenzweig

Traizon’s memorial diamond has been stolen!

Cabat feathers are scattered around the crime scene. How is this possible? These flying assassins were meant to have become extinct more than 400 years ago! With this question unanswered, Dementia and his faithful crew (including Alex McKenzie) set out on a dangerous quest to find the missing memorial diamond and destroy the Cabats.

But first, they need to visit Old Fuzzy and his flame-blowing Dragon dogs. Brace yourself for one of the deadliest battles in the history of battles. Book 2 overflows with action, adventure, and side-splitting humour. All your favourite quirky characters from Book 1 are back along with a new selection of fascinating characters.

Is this the end for Alex McKenzie?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Larry Rosenzweig
• Release date: May 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301274321

Larry Rosenzweig

Having dashed my way from South Africa to Australia in 1987 - on the back of a very fit and confused looking Springbok, who fortunately also turned out to be an excellent long distance ocean swimmer - I soon settled into the Ozzie way of life. I studied Psychology, only to discover that no textbooks or theories identified any condition that even closely accounted for my level of loopiness.I am married to a wonderful, loving woman, who is also a yet-to-be-discovered comedian. She has such a wicked sense of humour that I’m often reduced to tears. My playful darling has a heart of gold and always does the right thing by everybody. She is a loyal partner and doting parent to our brood of five. She is a lawyer by day and a fluffy toy mender by night. She’s my Cinderella, only much more radiant!I have five quirky children, each equipped with a great sense of humour and wonderful personality. They make me laugh, cry, and often sigh. But I love them all. We have a computer-wiz, a dog-whisperer, a thrill-seeker, a fact-finder and a sugar-diviner.The characters from Books 1,2, 3 and 4 have been alive in my head for years, hence my continual scalp itch. It is great to finally set them free. There are still hundreds of other characters waiting to be released. I anticipate releasing at least ten books in this series ... possibly more!

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

OPTIMISM

‘What an incredible transformation!’ exclaimed Sked joyously as he looked out at the lush carpet of silver-bladed grass that now covered the Land of Hope for as far as the eye could see.

A light sprinkling of blue and pink wildflowers poked their heads through the shimmering silver landscape and filled the air with the most fragrant of odours. The ten foot tall gentle-giant was already daydreaming about the wonderful pictures he would soon be able to sketch and paint.

‘Yes!’ replied the tiny white fur-ball, Fluffel, in his express-train-fast, high-pitched voice. ‘It’s hard to believe that much of this place was scorched black and totally lifeless only a week ago.’

‘It sure is …’ smiled Sked contemplatively, and unconsciously tried to stroke his curly brown beard that was no longer there. He had shaved it off just the other day, revealing a dashingly handsome face. ‘The continuous rains have performed a small miracle!’

‘They have!’ agreed the tall, thin, broad bean-shaped Hildegard. ‘And look at the amazing stream that the enormous Wolly worms have skilfully carved out for us! I can’t believe it’s almost complete! It has taken them less than three days to complete the 15 kilometres. They truly know the meaning of hard-work – unlike others I know, who take five days to spin two solitary dresses. Five whole days!’

Sked and Fluffel knew that Hildegard was talking (bitching) about the bone-lazy, temperamental Glutton spider, Hairy. She had foolishly agreed to go into partnership with him in a dressmaking business venture. Despite the business having only been going for about a week now, she was already so fed up with his non-existent work ethic and condescending attitude that she was ready to rip his head off.

The Glutton spider and Lentina duo hoped to initially target the exceedingly wealthy and fashion-conscious female Messimy dwarfs who lived nearby. Despite supposedly being 50-50 partners, the distribution of work was divided between the two of them as follows: Hairy would spin the outfits, while Hildegard would do everything else – including dyeing and decorating them with thousands of sequins, sales and marketing, processing of orders, shop layout and window display, sweeping and cleaning, payment of accounts … and on and on.

Hildegard had discovered that they could overcome the problem of the stickiness of Hairy’s web-threading by soaking the finished garments in fresh hot water for a few days.

‘Two dresses in five days!’ laughed Fluffel. ‘I would have killed him by now!’

‘Me too!’ agreed Sked. ‘I would have already stomped him underfoot like this!’ He lifted one of his enormous, size-20 feet to knee height and then slammed it down hard. The ground shook.

‘No, you wouldn’t, Sked!’ laughed Hildegard. Nonetheless, the image of orange goo splattering everywhere filled her mind with a surprisingly happy inner calm. ‘You are far too gentle and forgiving for that sort of thing.’

‘I suppose,’ conceded Sked.

‘Nevertheless,’ continued Fluffel, ‘you need to confront him on his laziness, Hildegard!’

‘I am planning to have stern words with him later today,’ replied Hildegard. ‘Unless his attitude changes dramatically, we will be parting ways.’

‘Good for you!’ exclaimed Fluffel. ‘I guess that means you won’t be joining Sked and me later today.’

‘What are the two of you doing later today?’ enquired Hildegard. ‘We are going to plant some more Gold Tree seeds,’ replied Fluffel. ‘Along those banks of the new stream that have already been completed.’

‘It’s only a possibly at this stage, Fluffel!’ smiled Sked. ‘It just depends on whether or not I manage to finish painting my allocation of houses early enough. I have five entire exteriors to complete today.’

‘Oh!’ sighed Fluffel with great disappointment in his puppy-dog eyes. ‘I thought it was a definite arrangement.’

‘I wouldn’t worry, Fluffel,’ smiled Hildegard reassuringly. ‘Sked also …’

Her train of thought was interrupted mid-sentence as Hairy suddenly came scuttling past. He was in hot pursuit of a large Murd fly and was shooting webs in rapid succession, but with absolutely no accuracy.

‘As I was saying,’ continued Hildegard, with extra emphasis on key words, ‘Sked also knows the meaning of hard work and will no doubt finish his chores well ahead of schedule! … Unlike others I know … bone lazy others!’ Hildegard stared directly at Hairy as she spoke. Although not the world’s most intelligent spider, Hairy was perceptive enough to realise that Hildegard was having a direct dig at him. The deeply offended Glutton spider did not even bother swallowing his mouthful of Murd flies before responding venomously. Pieces of fly were expelled out of his mouth with great gusto as he began his tirade. As if trying to understand him through a mouthful of flies was not challenging enough, those listening also had to contend with his severe lisp – which resulted in him pronouncing almost all of his letter S’s and Z’s as Th’s and some of his letter R’s as W’s. At times, deciphering what he was saying could be as challenging as trying to solve one of those cryptic puzzles.

‘Were you weferring to me, Hildegard, when you thaid, "bone lathy otherth!" in thuch an aggweththive tone? I am deeply offended by—’

‘Yes, Hairy. I was referring to you!’ shouted Hildegard bitterly over the top of him. Her shimmering blue scales looked poised to explode. ‘And quite frankly, I don’t give two hoots if you are deeply offended!’

‘Why mutht you be tho cwuel and nathty, Hildegard?’ shouted Hairy. For extra effect, he burst into tears.

‘You can stop the melodramatics right now, Hairy! I should never have agreed to go into partnership with you. The grand opening of our high-end-fashion studio is less than a month away, and all that you’ve managed to spin so far are two dresses! A measly two dresses in five days, Hairy! We are going to need considerably more than two dresses!’

‘Firthtly, Hildegard,’ screamed Hairy, ‘I have thpun four dweththes tho far, not two, ath you are wrongly and unfairly thuggethting. And thecondly—’

‘Please, you threw a massive temper tantrum,’ interrupted Hildegard, ‘and tore the other two perfectly good dresses into hundreds of pieces! So they no longer count – unless you plan on selling the shredded pieces. They apparently were not good enough for Mr Fussy-boots. You then cried and sulked and moped about for an entire day. All you managed to do was eat!’

‘How cwuel of you, Hildegard! How vewwy cwuel! They were tewwible dweththes, and you know it! They looked nothing like thith mathterpiethe!’

He pointed to the flamboyant, kitsch, sparkling sequin outfit that currently adorned his pumpkin shaped body and each of its 30 enormous limbs. The trim was lined with distastefully colourful beaded tassels.

‘Nonsense, Hairy, they were perfectly good dresses. Besides, you could have just made the necessary adjustments. You did not have to rip them up so viciously!’

‘You jutht don’t get it, Hildegard!’ countered Hairy in the most patronising of tones. ‘You are in the pwethenthe of a highly talented artitht! I have vewwy high thtandardth and expectathionth. If you wanted a wun-of-the-mill, average, mathth-producing dweththmaker (He rolled his eyes at her for good measure), you thould have gone into partnerthip with one of thothe Dwudger wormth!’

Hairy’s mouth salivated as he thought about the delicious Drudgers. He was always easily distracted by food-related daydreams.

‘But—’ continued Hildegard. She got no further because Hairy cut her off. He was on a roll.

‘But nothing!’ he shouted. ‘Artithtic dethign taketh time, Hildegard. It cannot be wushed! I have to wait pathiently for new inthpirathional ideath to enter my head.’

‘But—’ tried Hildegard again.

‘I’m not finithed thpeaking!’ screamed Hairy and waved her away indignantly. The beaded tassels clanged together like noisy maracas. ‘You need to underthtand that each drethth that emergeth from my talented handth ith a one-off Haiwy original!’

‘But—’ she tried again.

‘I’m thtill not finithed thpeaking, Hildegard! You are pwiveledged to be in the pwethenthe of an artithtic geniuth, and yet you choothe to tweat me with tho little wespect! Without me, you have nothing! I’m your meal ticket!’

‘If you are my meal ticket, I will starve to death!’ screamed Hildegard.

‘How vewwy, vewwy cwuel!’ screamed Hairy and burst into tears. His flamingo-pink lips wobbled like a tightrope walker who was about to fall. ‘Your negative energy ith hampewing me in my attemptth to create mathterpietheth … I thimply cannot deal with the conthtant preththure, Hildegard! Pleathe, you’re thlowly killing me!’ He pounded several limbs into the turf, for added dramatic effect.

‘Enough with the melodramatics, Hairy!’ shouted Hildegard without an ounce of sympathy in her voice. ‘In truth, you have been sitting on your backside, all day, every day, eating Murd flies! I think you are just lazy! Pure and simple, lazy. You don’t like hard work!’

‘How cwuel of you, Hildegard!’ cried the distraught Hairy. ‘Take that comment back! Take it back wight now … Or … Or … Or I’ll thtop working!’

‘As opposed to what?’ laughed Hildegard wryly.

‘What do you mean?’ screamed Hairy, and in the process, accidentally expelled three Murd Flies that he had only just put into his mouth. They fell into a highly poisonous bucket of yellow Plenny-flower dye. There was therefore no way that they could be retrieved. ‘Damn, thtinking, flaming, fiddle thticks!’ he swore bitterly. ‘What an abtholute wathte!’

‘Please watch your language and tone of voice, Hairy!’ said Sked calmly. ‘You are in the presence of a lady!’

‘Thowwy about my foul language, Hildegard!’ cried Hairy. ‘I don’t normally thwear, but I am having a weally, weally, weally bad day!’

‘It’s ok, Hairy,’ replied Hildegard. ‘In truth, your lack of work ethic bothers me far more than your swearing. Instead of taking half-hour lunch breaks between hours of working, like the rest of us working-class folk, you take half-hour work breaks between hours of lunching! As soon as your indigestion clears, you drop tools and start stuffng your face again. This needs to stop right now, Hairy!’

‘You are wight, Hildegard!’ replied Hairy with a seemingly new found vigour and enthusiasm. ‘As of tomowwow, you will thee a completely new Haiwy – a focused Haiwy, a hard-working Haiwy, a—’

‘As of tomorrow!’ shouted Hildegard. ‘It is only 12 noon, Hairy! There are still five working hours left today. I would like you to start working hard right now!’

‘You … you … you mutht be joking!’ screamed Hairy. ‘I am emotionally thpent wight now. And I have a weally thore tummy from all the thouting. Pleathe let me leave work early today and rest! Let me wecover from the trauma of our howwible argument and tomowwow you will have a star performer – I promithe!’

Hildegard sighed and nodded. ‘I’ll give you one last chance Hairy! But you had better arrive on time tomorrow. This habit of arriving two hours late and finishing an hour early needs to stop!’

‘I will arrive early tomowwow and leave late, I pwomise!’ With that, he went scuttling off to eat and sleep for the rest of the day.

‘You are a real softie, Hildegard,’ teased Fluffel. ‘I can bet you anything that he will arrive late for work tomorrow.’

‘I agree!’ laughed Sked.

‘I guess only time will tell,’ smiled Hildegard. ‘Anyway, where were we?’

‘You were saying that you are certain that Sked will finish painting his allocation of houses today, ahead of schedule, because he has a good work ethic,’ continued Fluffel.

‘That’s right!’ smiled Hildegard.

‘Thanks, Hildegard!’ blushed Sked. ‘I appreciate your confidence in me.’

‘Can you guys believe that all of the houses have now been completed?’ exclaimed Fluffel. ‘And that some are already being painted. What colours will you be using today, Sked?’

‘Ovrill orange, blustal blue, furple purple, fink pink and spreen green.’ As he spoke, his aquamarine eyes surveyed the thousands of brownish-yellow mud brick, double-storey houses nearby, and imagined how spectacular they would all look once painted.

‘Awesome!’ exclaimed Hildegard. ‘And I believe that construction begins tomorrow, on the School of Hope. It’s all happening!’

In the distance, Sked caught sight of Dementia. The ageing supreme Soul wizard was staring upwards into the clearing purple skies. Sked incorrectly assumed that Dementia was looking at the 23 magnificent rainbows that still stood testimony to the fallen Sugar fairies. He had no idea that Dementia was in fact nervously scouring the skies for any signs of the supposedly extinct Cabats. More about this later!

Down at the newly created stream, the orphans and Friendlie kids entertained themselves by watching the massive 100-metre long, 30-metre thick Wolly worms finish the final two kilometres of excavation work. All the deep boring and tunnelling had already been completed and they were now simply widening out and compacting the edges.

Their drill-bit heads, corkscrew bodies, and grater-like skins easily churned through the soft, crumbling, tangerine-coloured soil. Given that they were no longer venturing underground, they had kindly offered to allow any willing kids to come along for the ride on their enormous backs.

Over a hundred excited kids gratefully accepted the offer and climbed aboard. A few adults who were charged with supervising the kids, strapped them on tightly with enormous pieces of thick rope, provided by the Wolly worms.

The kids laughed and screamed with delight as their unconventional, vibrating rides set off at blistering speed. Thick gluggy mud was churned up and drenched all of the adults watching on, from head to toe. Of course, this was just an added bonus for the kids.

Further downstream, the famous Soul wizard rainbow-maker, Romulus Bowrain, was about to start construction work on a magnificent rainbow bridge that would allow safe access from one side of the new wide-spanning stream to the other. Its construction had been commissioned by the Sugar fairies and Soul wizards of Flush Fleas as a very generous ‘housewarming’ gift to the citizens of the Land of Hope.

Romulus began by removing the lid from what appeared to be a sophisticated chemistry set. It had vials of colourful liquids and crystals, test tubes, filament papers, Bunsen burners, and some objects and tools that are simply too strange to describe. He gently removed seven test tubes and seven vials of colourful liquid; each vibrant liquid was a different colour of the rainbow – red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. He was about to start placing each test tube 50 metres apart when he was abruptly interrupted by a high-pitched voice.

‘Excuse me, distinguished Soul wizard sir!’ smiled Willowood shyly. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what are you doing?’

Willowood and Violeena had been watching on with fascination. Technically speaking, I should now be referring to them as ‘King Willowood’ and ‘Queen Violeena’ because they had recently tied the knot in a low-key ceremony hosted by their neighbours, the Golfibobs. Only Dementia had attended. He gave Willowood away and King Luticious gave Violeena away. Proof of their matrimony took the form of the matching gold and silver sacred Elkwoodian crowns that now adorned both of their heads.

‘I am about to start creating the new rainbow bridge that will connect one side of the stream with the other; for those who cannot fly across,’ responded Romulus, without looking up to see who he was speaking to. He was way too deep in thought for that.

‘Of course – you must be the famous rainbow maker!’ exclaimed Violeena joyously. ‘They said you would be coming today.’

‘Err, yes. The name is Romulus Bowrain,’ smiled Romulus generously and lifted his head to see who owned this honey-sweet voice. Only now did he realise that he had been addressing a king and queen so disrespectfully. ‘Please forgive my rudeness, Your Majesty and Your Highness …’ he mumbled. ‘I had no idea—’

‘Its fine!’ smiled Willowood. ‘We prefer to be treated like everyone else anyway. We understand that you are hard at work and apologise for interrupting.’

‘No need to apologise! I am honoured by your interest in what I am doing.’

‘Do you mind if we watch you work?’ asked Violeena. ‘We promise not to interfere.’

‘Not at all!’ replied Romulus. ‘In fact, if you two are not too busy, I might get the both of you to help.’

‘It would be our honour!’ replied Willowood with great excitement and enthusiasm.

‘Good!’ smiled Romulus. ‘But you will need to pay close attention to what I tell you. I have no desire to cut either you or your radiantly beautiful queen out of the rainbow!’

‘Understood!’ laughed Willowood. Violeena blushed and then nodded in agreement.

‘Good … Right, Your Majesty, you take—’

‘Simply refer to us as Willowood and Violeena!’ interrupted Willowood. ‘No need for formalities.’

‘Fine. Willowood, you take these four test tubes, and Violeena, you take these three. I want you (he pointed to Willowood) to place your test tubes approximately 50 metres apart, working your way downstream, and I want you (he pointed to Violeena) to do the same thing with your test tubes, only working your way upstream. If you both do your jobs correctly, I will have seven test tubes spaced evenly, close to 50 metres apart.’

‘Why such a large distance between each test tube?’ asked Willowood.

‘No questions right now, please!’ said Romulus politely, but sternly. ‘My apologies!’ Willowood then set off in his awkward, gangly-kneed, bum-shaking style. Violeena, equally awkward, set off in the opposite direction.

Despite having one more test tube to place than Violeena, Willowood’s competitive spirit kicked into gear. He was determined to return back to Romulus before she did. In his haste, he accidentally tripped and went head first into the mud-slushy turf. Embarrassed, he stood back up with mud-coated face and hair, and a bruised ego.

‘Slow down, Willowood!’ laughed Romulus. ‘I don’t want you accidentally breaking any of my special test tubes.’

Once the test tubes had been set out correctly, Romulus gave Violeena the red, orange, yellow, and green vials of coloured liquid, and Willowood, the blue, indigo and violet.

‘I would like you to fill each test tube with a different colour liquid. Just remember to first remove the rubber stopper before you start pouring. And make sure you pour accurately. And make sure to move out of the way quickly.’

Both Willowood and Violeena wondered why they needed to move out of the way quickly. The answer became blatantly clear the moment they each emptied their first coloured vial.

The red and blue liquids started to bubble over with a continuous flow of frothy foam that hardened in midair to the consistency of sponge, and fell to the ground. Despite each test tube only being tiny, they kept producing more and more of this spongy froth.

By the time both elves had reached their second test tubes and poured their second colours (orange and indigo) a red hill and a blue hill could already be seen – and yet the spongy froth continued to spill. Soon, seven colourful, 20-metre-high spongy hills emerged. They looked magical and surreal.

Romulus then used the laser-like tip of his wand to cut away large sections from each of the spongy hills and began skilfully carving them into perfectly arced sections of rainbow – like massive pieces of Lego. With Romulus’ permission, Willowood and Violeena had great fun jumping from one section of spongy rainbow to another. Romulus could clearly see that these two elves were more than just boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife, king and queen; they were soul-mates.

Once all the rainbow sections were complete and had set to the correct consistency, Romulus planned on asking Willowood and Violeena if they would mind helping him join them together over the stream. Despite each section being as strong as nails, they weighed little more than polystyrene and were therefore easy to manipulate into place. Still, it was tricky work. Each piece had to be glued together using a tool that resembled an oversized ventolin pump, which discharged misty puffs of an extremely powerful bonding agent. Should one of the segments accidentally collapse whilst being joined, he would rather they go tumbling into the stream than him. He smiled at the thought.

In the background, the powerful, echoic sound of metal pounding on metal could be heard. It was thanks to Frother. With the encouragement and financial backing of both King Mullimus and King Flambay, the kind-hearted Doolan dragon had decided to open an ironsmith shop. He was currently receiving first-rate iron forging lessons from several of King Mullimus’ finest Burlian ironworkers, and precision flame blowing (and heat oscillation) lessons from two of King Flambay’s finest Doolan dragon flame blowers. All agreed that Frother was a model student and an absolute pleasure to work with. He received compliment after compliment, and always responded with the same humble, ‘Sh-sh-shucks … Y-Y-You are t-t-too k-k-kind!’ stutter, and then continued working.

He was picking up the new skills exceptionally quickly and showed an enormous amount of natural talent. The Burlian ironworkers were amazed at the brute power that he could exert with the quick whip-like downwards motions of his powerful tail. The last 20 centimetres of his tail was covered over by a specially designed thick metal sheath with a flattened base. It resembled the head of an oversized sledgehammer and weighed over 50 kilograms. It allowed him to turn thick metal rods into wafer-thin sheet metal in record time.

He had recently presented Dementia with a beautifully crafted iron kettle. Dementia was amazed at the craftsmanship and really treasured it. Frother’s shop was due to open in about a week’s time (coinciding with the grand opening of the town mall) and he already had a backlog of orders. There was a huge demand for agricultural and domestic implements cast from Holidian iron and other cheaper derivatives.

Frother realised that he would probably need to employ an apprentice of his own very soon. He had set up a makeshift shed in one of the vacant fields for the time being. The kids thoroughly enjoyed watching him practice and crowded around the shed. They were fascinated by the variety of hammers, anvils, fullers and pliers. They were mesmerised by the glowing hot metal and the intense heat of the volcanic rock furnaces. They loved watching the sparks fly as cold metal smashed down against hot metal with tremendous force, and listening to the sizzling sound of boiling hot metal cooling off in the water-filled slack-tubs. They always cheered loudly when Frother would blow flames out of his mouth for jobs that required