Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kid: In Bolt from the Blue & Day of the Dinosaurs

By Paul Shaw

BOLT FROM THE BLUE:
This is it! Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kids most Cataclysmic Caper yet!! The Sinister Snowman escapes from Hammerstein Prison*but thats only the beginning. The giant washing-machine of Maxburg is the first of the worlds great monuments to be vaporised by an energy beam from space. Who is the Menacing Mastermind behind this outrage? Could it be international crime syndicate FFANG? To solve the mystery, the Tremendous Two will have to travel to Egypt to prevent the Sphinx from being zapped, break into a maximum security girls school, don disguises to check into a gangster-packed hotel and, finally, come face to face with their most Fiendish Foe yet * the diabolical Big Boss of FFANG!

DAY OF THE DINOSAURS:
Monumental Studios want Captain Cat!! * to star in their latest movie extravaganza about rampaging dinosaurs. The Umbrella Kid is keen*until he discovers his part is to be played by obnoxious child star Tom Timm. But Captain Cat has no time for such frivolities. The prized teddy bear belonging to Theodore Thursday, the Brekkie-Bikks billionaire, has been kidnapped by the terrible, terrible Toymaker! And thats not all. Pterodactyls are attacking Aunt Titanias washing-line, plesiosaurs are cavorting in park ponds, and Tyrannosaurs are striding down free-ways! Monumental Studios life-sized robot dinosaurs are out of control. A mechanical fault? Or can the Toymaker be playing a duplicitous double-game? Whatever the reason, the Day of the Dinosaurs is going to be a very long day!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: May 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499004144

Paul Shaw

Author bio coming soon

Book preview

Captain Cat

and the

Umbrella Kid

in

Bolt from the Blue &

Day of the Dinosaurs

Paul Shaw

Cover Illustration by Earlene Gayle Escalona

Copyright © 2014 by Paul Shaw.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/27/2014

Xlibris LLC

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

612624

Contents

BOLT FROM THE BLUE

01

02

03

04

05

06

07

08

09

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

DAY OF THE DINOSAURS

01

02

03

04

05

06

07

08

09

10

11

12

13

14

By the same author:

Invasion of the Monsters

Escape From Squidd House

Fruit of Fury

Revenge of the Refrigerators

Cards of Chaos

Peaches of Panic

The Greed of Goldfever & The Sardines of Suspicion

Bolt From the Blue & Day of the Dinosaurs

BOLT FROM

THE BLUE

01

This particular Captain Cat and Umbrella Kid adventure begins with a

KKLLANGGGBBBRRANNGABANGG!!

That was the unmistakable sound of a giant washing-machine door slamming shut, entombing the Captain and the Kid (ie: Billy Gubbins, Junior Super Hero, part-time) inside an even more giant-sized washing-machine.

I just knew that’d happen, said Billy. Soon as I saw that door ajar I told myself, ‘Billy, you go in there and it’ll slam shut behind you.’ As usual I was right. Should’ve listened to myself. Cap’n? You listenin’?

No. My whiskers are twitching. Obviously this is an Inextricable Death-Trap set by—

By whom? boomed a triumphant voice behind them. I’ll give you three guesses. Don’t you just love multiple-choice quizzes? Christopher Columbus? G. K. Chesterton? Johan Sebastian Bach? Wrong! And the Captain’s and Billy’s old enemy THE SNOWMAN leered in at them through the huge plexi-glass panel in the washing-machine door!

At this point, the reader may well butt in with an incredulous "A giant washing-machine?!" Well, I am not Making It Up if that’s what you’re thinking. There really is such a thing as a giant washing-machine. It’s one of the key architectural wonders of the Age and probably Maxburg City’s greatest monument. Tourists flock from all over to gawp at it and post pictures of themselves in front of it and holding up a dirty sock on the internet. It was built to be the Final Resting Place for the late Sigmund Softfether, the SupaSurge! washing-powder tycoon. He had left instructions in his Last Will & Testament to be interred (no flowers by request) within an enormous, fully functioning washing-machine, which was erected in the middle of Maxburg’s biggest park, where it rises above the trees like a gleaming, sculptured iceberg.

OK. With that bit out of the way, the reader will now want to know exactly how Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kid came to be trapped inside this giant washing-machine. And where does that sinister Super Villain, the Snowman, fit into the picture? And what’s all this got to do with the Mysterious Vaporization of the World’s Greatest Buildings, like it says on the back cover? One thing at a time. Let’s deal with the Snowman first…

Earlier that day, a red light on Captain Cat’s penthouse HQ’s ceiling started flashing like a police car siren, a foghorn fastened to the wall started blaring, and a grandfather clock in a corner started tolling.

Billy, cleaning out his umbrella cupboard, dropped an armful of umbrellas, almost setting off Umbrella No.91 (the sawn-off pump action one that fired Stik-Tak blobs), the resulting clatter adding to the Frightful Racket.

Ah, said Captain Cat, glancing up from sorting out his comprehensive collection of neatly labelled old ships’ anchors.¹ That’ll be the Emergency Hot Line Phone. He stepped across to a grandfather clock and twiddled a knob on its side. The Frightful Racket ceased and the clock-face dissolved into a face with a wide, wrinkled brow, scrubby moustache and soulful, chocolate-brown eyes.

Hello Mr Nosefield, said Captain Cat, immediately recognizing on the vid-phone screen the governor of Hammerstein Prison, the maximum security correctional facility for Terribly Persistent Super Villains. What’s the trouble? Want another donation for that ping-pong table you’re trying to get for the prison officers’ recreation room?

It’s much more serious than that! the Governor exclaimed, nervously mopping his brow with a prison grey handkerchief. He’s escaped! He’s on the loose again, free to commit any heinous crime imaginable!

Whom, exactly, has escaped?

"The sinister—gulp!—Snowman!"

Billy, who had picked up most of his spilled umbrellas, promptly dropped them all again. Not him again! he cried. "It’s, like, only yesterday since we put a stop to his refrigerator revolution.² How’d he bust out anyway? Not on the annual prison picnic? Always thought those were a bad idea."

Mr Nosefield shook his head. He tapped a bottle of pills into his palm. Swallowed several pink pills with a glass of water. Trying to keep hold of all these nefarious Super Villains is bad for my nerves, he explained. No, he went on, the Snowman was much too clever. Because the weather’s been quite hot lately, the prison air-conditioner has been on. But when it’s cold the Snowman feels hot—

Due to that reckless experiment of his, interrupted the Captain. "The one where he rubbed on an unstable experimental ointment that was supposed to make the cold feel hot and ultimately replace prickly woollen long-johns. It all went disastrously wrong. Now he only feels warm on icy cold days and vice versa."

Why did you say all that, Cap’n? Billy wondered. We all know about the Snowman. That’s ancient history.

Not to some of Mr Shaw’s new readers. Governor. Pray continue.

There’s not much more to tell. We, I, well, allowed him to have a… Mr Nosefield mumbled the rest of his lines.

Governor! Captain Cat said sternly. "I have acute hearing. Did you say you allowed him a bar-heater?"

Bar-heater? said Billy with wrinkled nose. "I thought he said beef-eater!"

What else could I do? Mr Nosefield almost sobbed. The cold air-conditioning was making his blood boil, so he said. If I turned it off all the other Super Villains would’ve complained. He said a bar-heater would help him cool down.

Couldn’t you have just given him some prickly woollen long-johns? Billy suggested.

The Captain stroked his whiskers. Of course the Snowman simply re-configured the bar-heater, reversing its electron polarity, and turned it into an ice-blaster. With this he could easily cold-snap the lock of his cell door. Really, Governor. You might have just as well given him the key!

Poor Mr Nosefield hung his head.

Let this be a lesson to you. Never underestimate the cunning of the Snowman. Oh well. I suppose you want me to catch him? Again.

Would you? Mr Nosefield brightened up a bit. I’d be ever so grateful.

We’ll be in touch. The Captain switched of the clock, swivelled and took down his black bullet-proof cloak from the ebony Transylvanian coat-stand. Billy. Skates on.

Aye, aye, Cap’n! Billy tossed aside all his umbrellas bar one. Now he was armed and dangerous and ready to go!

Aunt Titania materialized, just back from shopping. I trust you’re not going to leave the place neck-high in umbrellas and old ships’ anchors? she enquired, her voice as cold as the frozen salmon hitchhiking in her shopping-basket.

Temporarily, replied Captain Cat, whizzing by, Billy in tow. Oh, he added, popping back. Got anything for barnacles? Some of my anchors seem to have broken out in them. Like pimples!

The Captain and Billy continued whizzing off into the bright, sunshiny morning, aided and abetted by the rocket-finned, shark-proof-tyred Catillac 9000. They weren’t whizzing for too long before the sound and fury and general hullabaloo of police cars (also whizzing), stampeding shoppers, burglar alarms and the merry tinkle of an ice-cream van drew them to a large Sparx and Larx shopping mall.

There he is! trumpeted Billy, spotting the fat, potato-nosed Snowman in his straw boater, fur coat and long scarf trotting out of an exclusive, ground-floor jewellery store. Glittering diamonds leaked out of his hastily stuffed pockets.

Clapping eyes on Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kid descending upon him like wolves upon the fold, the Snowman hastily slotted a stolen diamond into the Refraction Regulator of a makeshift laser-gun and fired off a pot-shot, before legging it in his hot-wired ice-cream van get-away vehicle.

The huntsman winds his horn! cried Captain Cat, sounding the car-horn and tearing off in Hot Pursuit.

The HP took them to Mossboss Park and the monstrous washing-machine mausoleum of Sigmund Softfether, as described at the beginning of this Episodic Epic.

There’s the Snowman’s ice-cream van, said Billy, springing out of the Catillac and poking his umbrella about inside the van. Empty! The Snowman’s scarpered on foot.

And left a trail a baby Indian brave could follow, the Captain said. See.

Glinting diamonds were scattered along the path. Like a pair of bloodhounds straining at the leash, the Captain and Billy set off. Billy was reminded of the telltale trail left by that pair of intrepid explorers, Hansel and Gretal.

The gems spilt from the Snowman’s pockets continued up a metal staircase zigzagging up the front of the washing-machine. Almost at the top they discovered the huge washing-machine door ajar. Cautiously they peeped around it. At the far, dim end of the cavernous cylindrical chamber a familiar plump figure could be seen, back to them.

Never underestimate the cunning of the Snowman. That’s what the Captain had said and he really should have heeded his own advice. Because no sooner had he and young Billy dashed inside, all eager to repeat their ‘descending like wolves upon the fold’ bit, than the great door clanged shut, and there was the Snowman smirking at them from the other side!

This was about where we came in. Now the Adventure—and Danger—really begins…

02

A trap! A glorious unescapable trap! crowed the Snowman. Or should that be ‘inescapable’? Whatever. At last I, the Sultan of the Snows, the Terror of the Tundra, will be Avenged!

If he’s out there, said Billy, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, then who’s this entombed with us? He prodded the Snowman look-alike with his umbrella. The grinning head promptly fell off with a soggy splat. A—a snowman?

Literally, murmured Captain Cat.

Billy blinked. Hey! Did I hear something about a trap, a glorious unescapable trap?

About time you got back to me! came the cry of the Snowman.

Ignore him, said the Captain. And ‘inescapable’ is probably the more correct word to use. Either way, that remains to be seen…

That’s what you think! Again, the Snowman.

Just then huge motors fired up and the chamber began to rotate, knocking Billy and the Captain off their feet. Surges of icy cold water started pumping in through numerous circular hatches. And that was not all. From overhead came gently sprinkling flakes…

Billy held out a hand. Snow?

Soap powder, said Captain Cat, wincing as the turbulent foaming water sloshed over the tops of his boots. He hated getting wet. The Snowman plans to cold-rinse us to death. An effect not unlike being caught in a blizzard.

What a way to go, replied Billy. As if we were a pair of smelly socks!

The washing-machine went into Rapid Rinse & Wash mode, spinning faster and faster. The Captain and the Kid were spun dizzily round and round. Suddenly the Captain vanished, seemingly dragged ‘neath the frothy maelstrom.

Cap’n! yelled Billy, thrashing helplessly about like a duck trying to dance. Then something grabbed his ankle. He let out another yell. Had the Snowman slipped some sharks in with the soapsuds? Billy was pulled below the whirlpool. Squinting through the water he made out a pair of glowing green eyes. Captain Cat!

Letting go of his ankle, the Captain pointed towards a large circular hatch set into the rear of the spinning chamber. He began clawing at it with his retractable cat-claws. Billy got the picture. Struggling to hold his breath, he dove down and started prising the hatch with the tip of his umbrella.

Will our heroes manage to open the hatch before their oxygen-starved lungs burst, or the violent centrifugal force tears them away? As this is only Chapter 2 with another 14 chapters to go, the question is academic.

Thus, the hatch finally slid aside. With a furious gush of escaping water, the Captain, with Billy a close second, was sucked into a large and twisty out-take pipe. Swept violently along, they were finally expelled out of the back of the washing-machine into one of the park’s more larger ornamental ponds. They floundered ashore, where Billy flopped on the grass like a fat salmon plopped on a fishing-trawler deck.

How-how’d you know where the exit was? Billy gasped, bidding air step right up into his lungs and not to dawdle.

I once spent a holiday touring the ancient washing-machines of Outer Mongolia, replied the Captain. As you know, all cats have an interest in washing.

Wringing out his cloak and striding off, boots squelching, Captain Cat added grimly: I’ve a bone to pick with that Snowman. Look at my costume. All wrinkled and streaked. He obviously didn’t use the same soap powder Aunt Titania uses. I’ve a good mind to charge him with my dry-cleaning bill!

On the observation platform atop the washing-machine, the Snowman stamped an ug-booted foot. Shiver me timbers! he cried, annoyed. You didn’t even wait to be tumble-dried!

Suddenly—before the Captain could scale the stairs and apply some of his ju-ju-zapsu to the Snowman’s spud-like nose—an intense beam of ultra-bright light speared down from the sky, instantly vaporizing any loitering clouds, and struck the washing-machine! There was a tremendous blast of heat, and the very ground shook as if warming up for an earthquake of Major Proportions.

The Snowman was flung off the fiercely glowing washing-machine, splashing-down into another of those ornamental ponds. Captain Cat staggered back, cloak held protectively over his face. As for Billy, he instinctively popped open his umbrella and cowered beneath it, wildly thinking some furious deity like Zeus was chucking lightning-bolts at him; that, or Aunt Titania was on the warpath because he hadn’t put out his school lunchbox to be washed again. Both occurrences were very similar.

He screwed his eyes tightly shut against the eyeball-frying light. And when he cautiously opened them, well, he couldn’t believe what they were showing him. He gave them a rub and told them to get their act together. But they were adamant and he’d better believe it.

The enormous washing-machine, every cubic meter and umpteen tonne of it, had completely and utterly vanished! It was as if it had never existed…

03

Billy gazed up into the sky. Wh-what happened, Cap’n? It was like… like some bolt from the blue. He grinned weakly, still a little shaken. Hey, that’d make a cool title for one of Mr Shaw’s books about us. Wonder if he’d like it?

It’s melodramatic and clichéd, replied Captain Cat, surveying the vast, bare patch where once stood the giant washing-machine of Maxburg. Of course Mr Shaw will like it. Now onto more important matters. What has happened to this washing-machine. Any ideas?

Blasted to atoms! came Billy’s prompt reply.

And it had nothing to do with me! declared the Snowman. He lay sprawled in a now bone-dry ornamental pond; the violent heat from Billy’s Bolt from the Blue had evaporated all the water. I’m as innocent as the pure driven snow!

That’ll be the day, growled Billy suspiciously, doing his stuff with the handcuffs.

On this occasion, said Captain Cat, tugging thoughtfully upon his whiskers, I think the Snowman’s telling the truth. The wholesale destruction of gigantic washing-machines is way out of his league. No. I’m more inclined to—

Abruptly, a microphone was brandished under his nose by a small young woman with a sombre face and a large mass of beautifully-styled hair. Jemima Smythe—Hot Spot News—Channel 22, she announced. Captain Cat—how does it feel having Maxburg’s most prized monument razed to the ground—under your very nose?

At the moment: no comment, replied the Captain stiffly, turning his right profile (his best) to the hovering TV-camera. But the good citizens of this noble city may rest assured that I will leave no stone unturned in my efforts to—

Cut! interrupted Ms Smythe, fiddling with the audio-receiver in her ear. News just in—the Eiffel Tower has just been atomised by a—

Bolt from the Blue? Billy suggested brightly.

Can I quote you? Mike—we’ve got to get to Paris—pronto—before— And like a small tornado, but one with beautifully-styled hair still intact, Jemima Smythe whirled away, her camera-man (Mike) swept along behind her.

What about me!? the Snowman yelled after them. Don’t I get to be interviewed? I, the Terror of the Tundra, the instigator of the Great Refrigerator Revolt!

Billy told him to put a sock (thick, woollen, bright red) in it.

After dropping the Snowman off at Hammerstein Prison, where an overjoyed Governor Nosefield welcomed him back with wide open and then quickly shut cell doors, the Captain and Billy zoomed back to HQ and switched on the telly…

. . . Behind me glows the familiar night-time skyline of Paris, city of lights,