Casper Candlewacks in Attack of the Brainiacs!

“How else will I carry her? Some sort of trolley?” She burst into trills of fruity laughter.

“Yes, Mum. They call it a buggy.”

“Well, I call it a waste of money. If a bag’s good enough for my shopping, it’s good enough for my daughter. Anyway, I’m shattered. Your turn to look after her now!”

“No, Mum, I’m—”

“Thanks, Caspy, you’re a star.” Amanda collapsed where she stood and was snoring before she hit the floor.

“Great.”

Cuddles gnawed on her own foot.

Casper left Cuddles to peel the potatoes (her fangs were perfect for the job) and clomped through to the kitchen. Last week Julius had bought every single item from the Kitchens ’n’ More catalogue, and now the whole lot was squeezed into his minuscule new kitchen. Four-slot toasters were stacked on top of chrome-finished deep-fat fryers, all still wrapped in plastic and far from being plugged in. In fact, nothing was plugged in because the only thing Julius had forgotten was something to plug them all into. Until further notice the kitchen would be lit by dozens of torches hanging from the ceiling or propped up in mugs.

“Right,” said Julius from behind a stack of flat-pack shelving units. “Block your ears!”

Casper did as he was told, and just in time too, because the next moment a deafening buzz rocked the room. Casper dived behind the oven just before hundreds of knives jiggled from their rack and thunked to the linoleum floor where he’d been standing, sticking fast.

“DAD!” he bellowed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

The noise stopped. Julius blew a cloud of sawdust from the tip of his power-drill like a spy with a smoking gun. “Drilling holes.”

“What for?”

“Electricity. This wall goes through to the restaurant so I’m sticking a wire through.”

“Just watch where you’re drilling. There’re water pipes and all sorts in there.”

“Trust me, Casp. I’ve done this before.” He winked and flipped down his goggles, then the drill roared into action again. The room shook, the wall wobbled, torches dropped from the ceiling and mugs rolled off tables, plunging the kitchen into darkness, but still Julius drilled on.

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