Once upon a time there was a fish called Bob. Bob lived under the sea with his best friend Colin the Crab and other assorted underwater creatures. One dark autumnal evening, Bob and Colin were at home, watching TV. Much of the screen was taken up by what appeared to be a huge bowl of lumpy yellow custard. Several other people stood around it, doing nothing in particular except ocassionally smirking in it's direction.
Bob almost jumped out of his seat. 'Oliver's Trousers! Who - or what - is that?' he exclaimed.
'That's Cheese Girl of course!' said Colin, as if he wasn't too happy at saying that for the hundreth time that day. 'Ssshh!'
'You mean, Celebrity Big Brother is still on?'
'Yes! What do you think we've been watching for the past fifteen months?'
'Given that absolutely nothing's happened Colin, it's hard to tell. Anyway, what's happened to Cheese Girl? She looks exactly like a huge bowl of lumpy yellow custard!'
'Ssshh! She has to complete this challenge otherwise she'll get evicted.'
'What's the challenge? To stand there and look exactly like a huge bowl of lumpy yellow custard? Because she'd get ten out of ten from me.'
'No, of course not! She has to touch her toes, and she's almost out of time!'
'She has toes?'
'Ssshh!'
On screen the huge bowl of lumpy yellow custard wobbled slightly, while a voice counted down the remaining seconds.
'Come on Cheese Girl, come on!' said Colin, nervously nibbling his claws. 'You can do it!'
'No!' said Colin.
'What's up with you?' said Bob, shaking his head. 'You care about some psycho cheese-obsessed killer who does a very good impression of a custard factory that's about to explode. And don't forget, her nose isn't real, because I grated it off remember? That's just a blob of yellow plasticine. Haven't you noticed its shape changes every time she sneezes?'
'I don't care. Anyway, I told you before, she's changed.'
'She's changed alright,' said Bob, pointing a fin at the TV screen. 'She can't even get out of the door now, look!'
A sobbing Cheese Girl was trying to squeeze her way through the front door of the Big Brother house, while the remaining housemates stood around bemused, wondering if there was anywhere they could push without losing an arm. In a vain attempt to thin herself, Cheese Girl breathed in and a shopping trolley's worth of assorted cheeses fell out of various unidentifiable parts of her anatomy.
'I'm not sure I want to see this,' said Colin.
'You're joking,' Bob replied. 'This is the first thing that's happened in over a year!'
Bob and Colin watched on, as - over the course of the next few hours - part of the roof of the house was removed and Cheese Girl was airlifted out, then dropped without ceremony into the back of a waiting dumper truck, which groaned under the weight before all of its tyres exploded. In the back Cheese Girl had stopped sobbing, and was now ranting and raving about how everyone hated her.
'I don't hate you,' Colin whispered, fighting back tears.
'What?' said Bob.
'Nothing,' said Colin, scurrying out of the room.
High up on Sinister Tor in deepest Dartmoor stood a black castle. It appeared to have been carved out of the rocks that were strewn around its base. Dark clouds bubbled in the sky above, while the silouette of a helicopter moved beneath. It was carrying what appeared to be a lemon bon-bon the size of a semi-detached house.
On top of one of the castle's four towers, a man watched as the yellow lump was lowered into the centre of the castle. Then the harness holding it was released, and it fell the last twelve feet or so and landed with a loud, squishy thud.
Cheese Girl squealed, then writhed about on her back in an attempt to roll over so she could stand upright before quickly tiring herself out and giving up.
'Hello?' she shouted. The helicopter returned to the darkening sky. 'Is anyone here? Where's the cheese?'
As the sound of the rotor blades faded away, Cheese Girl heard footsteps clip-clopping against stone, getting louder, until out of the shadow of a corner the man appeared. He was wearing a white lab coat, and his white and grey hair looked as if it had recently set in response to a large electric shock.
'You came,' he said. 'I knew you would.'
Cheese Girl, still on her back, strained her neck to get a view of the place where the voice had come from. 'Thanks for the ride. I'm here about the job,' she said.
'Does anyone know you're here?'
'Only the people at Google Maps. They need to know where I am at all times for some reason. Where's the cheese?'
'There isn't any,' came the brusque reply.
'What! But the advert was for a cheese testing job, in a big cheese factory! With four cheese breaks a day and all the cheese you can eat. There's a cheesy bonus plan, a cheese pension and other too-numerous to mention cheese-based benefits. Anyone who is not Cheese Girl need not apply. That's what it said!'
'That, I'm afraid, was a simple ruse to get you here. A simple but cunning cheese ruse. The oldest trick in the book of cheese-based tricks. I knew it would work.'
The man clasped his hands behind his back and began the long circular walk around Cheese Girl.
'How?' Cheese Girl asked. 'I don't understand.'
'Because, my Gargantuan cheese-gutbucket friend, I am a stereotypical mad genius scientist. I understand things mere mortals do not.'
'So w - who are you?'
'My name is of little consequence, but I'll tell you it anyway. I am Professor Spatchcock-Chicken. Arguably the most stereotypical maddest, most genius scientist in the world! You know how long it takes me to get my hair to go all crazy like this?'
'Er - no. How long?'
'No time at all!'
'But I've never heard of you.'
'Of course you haven't. Not many people have. Until recently I worked as a top secret government scientist, designing gadgets which would help our spies escape from life-threatening situations and seduce attractive women.'
'So what happened?'
'I was given the sack. In the sack was a note telling me I'd been fired with immediate effect. Somebody, or something I should say, had spilt the beans about my illegal cloning of and expermentation on lab assistants. "Murder" they called it, the fools! They didn't seem to understand it was necessary for the advancement of my work!'
The Professor clenched his fists and peered towards the sky, then let out an anguished scream. 'Henry! Come here at once!'
Another man entered the room. He too was wearing a white lab coat, but looked a little more conventional than the Professor, as scientists go.
'Yes Professor?' Henry asked.
The Professor took a bag from his pocket and tossed it to Henry. 'Get stuck in old buddy!' he said.
'Oooh, thank you. A "Big Eat" packet of Cheesy Wotsits, my favourite!'
As Henry opened the bag, his initial expression of gratitude was replaced with one of confusion. He looked at the Professor and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could let out a single syllable, a circular saw shot out of the bag and sliced his head in half. His face flopped off and hit the floor, his body following suit.
The professor chuckled, and took a notepad and pencil out of his breast pocket. 'The Professor, two hundred and ninety-seven,' he said. 'Henrys, zero.'
'S - stop!' Cheese Girl shouted. 'I w - want to l - leave now, p - please.'
'There's no need to be nervous my dear yellow zepellin, I assure you,' said the Professor, composing himself. 'You are quite safe. I'm here to help you. You want to take revenge on the world, but you can't.'
'But how do you know that?'
'It's quite simple really. I saw how angry you were after getting evicted last week, and I heard your anguished screams. So why, I asked myself, didn't you just start the killing there and then? Because you couldn't. You understand my perfect chain of reasoning?'
'Yes, I think so.'
'Most scientists know about cheese power, and how dangerous it can be in the wrong chubby hands, like yours,' said the Professor. 'The problem is, of course, that the more cheese you consume, the bigger you get. The bigger you get, the more cheese you need to fly and use your other special cheese powers. The more cheese you consume, the bigger you get, and round and round you go until you need to chuck a shopful of the stuff down your neck just to be able to get off the ground for a fraction of a second.'
'So how can you help?' Cheese Girl asked.
'As I said, most scientists know of the properties of cheese, but almost none - that is, every one except me - know anything about pumpkin power.'
Cheese Girl turned her nose up. 'Yuck! Pumpkins are for Halloween, aren't they? You can't eat them. You just scoop out the insides then make funny faces out of them.'
The Professor hmmmmed. 'If this plan is going to work,' he said, 'the best thing for you to do is not attempt to think, express an opinion, or convey any kind of abstract thought. Is that understood?'
'No.'
'Well just shut up then, if you can.'
'But I was on Celebrity Big Brother,' said Cheese Girl. 'People loved listening to me!'
'No they didn't. The kind of people that watch that trash are incapable of any kind of emotion, let alone love. They watch TV and go to toilet, and that's about it. Some of them even get that the wrong way around.'
'You're a liar!'
The Professor chuckled. 'Yes, of course I am. So where were all your adoring fans when you were air-lifted from the house and dumped outside?'
Cheese Girl began to sob. 'But I was one of the last to be evicted!'
'Come come girl. You don't think the voting is for real do you? The producers kept you there, they made sure of it. They knew what a great bit of TV it would be when you got so large you couldn't get out of the front door!'
In one thunderous movement, Cheese Girl managed to roll over on her front and push herself up into a standing position. She sucked in all the air she could then pointed a finger at the Professor.'
'Cheese power!' she bellowed, her voice echoing around the room.
A feint yellow spark issued from her finger but fizzled out almost immediately. Cheese Girl screamed and beat her chest. 'Aarrrgh! Gimme cheese!'
'Stop!' the Professor shouted, 'Stop now!'
'Gimme cheese!' she began to stomp about, causing the castle walls to rumble.
'Cheese Girl, down girl! Down!'
Cheese Girl stopped. She took several deep breaths while staring resolutely at the floor. Her eyes narrowed and she began to sneer.
'That's good,' said the Professor. 'Bottle up all that anger, you're going to need it.'
Cheese Girl let out a sound which knocked the Professor off of his feet.
'Gimme pumpkin!' she roared.
Bob switched over the TV. Top Gear was on, and the hosts were trying to get across the English Channel in a home-built amphibious car.
'Bloody humans,' He muttered. 'When will they learn?'
After some time Colin appeared at the doorway. He had painted himself black and stuck hairs to his legs and body with Shellotape.
'Hey Bob!' he said, 'Look at me!'
Colin did a twirl, while Bob stared resolutely at the screen.
'Woo-ooo-ooo!' he continued, scurrying around on the floor. 'Woo-ooo-ooo!'
'Colin, what are you doing?' said an exasperated Bob. 'I thought it was me that was supposed to be going crazy-a-bonkers!'
'I'm a scary spider,' Colin replied, crawling over the sofa. 'Woo-ooo-ooo!'
'In the name of Oliver's trousers, why?'
'Because it's Halloween of course!'
'Oh, right,' said Bob, flicking over the TV again.
'Where's your costume anyway?' Colin asked.
'Colin, I don't buy into all that Halloween stuff, you know that.'
'Of course I do. Anyone who drowns innocent children at Christmas probably isn't that interested in any kind of celebration.'
'Innocent?' said Bob. 'I don't think so. Every day is Halloween in Feltham, Colin.'
'Oh come on you kill-joy, get into the spirit of things! Woo-ooo-ooo!'
'And since when did a spider make the same noise as a ghost?'
Colin put a hairy claw to his chin and pondered. 'I'm a scary ghost spider, that's why! Two for the price of one!'
Just then there was a knock at the door.
'Who could that be?' Bob asked.
'It's my mum and dad, of course,' said Colin. 'They're coming over for Halloween, remember?'
'No.'
'That's because you're going crazy-a-bonkers.'
'Hmmm,' said Bob. 'I'm beginning to think you use that as an excuse for taking advantage.'
'Ssshh!' said Colin. 'Open the door, I'll hide behind the sofa and surprise them!'
'And stop telling me to ssshh all the time,' Bob muttered, as he swam to the front door and opened it to be greeted by Coleen and Brian, Colin's parents.'
'Hello Bob!' said Coleen. She was wearing a pointy hat and carrying a wand in each claw. Brian had a patch over one eye. 'Woo-ooo-ooo,' she continued.
'Don't you start,' Bob muttered, as they scurried into the living room.
'Where's Colin?' said Coleen. 'He told us to come over.'
Just then Colin jumped up from behind the sofa and scurried down onto the floor, running around in rapid circles.
'Aaaaarrgh!' Coleen squealed, 'a big fat hairy spider!'
'It's - ' Bob started, but it was too late.
'Take that!' said Brian, jumping into the air and stomping on Colin's head.
'Kill it! Kill it!' said Coleen, scrambling onto the sofa.
'I've stunned it,' said Brian. 'Don't move!'
He scurried into the kitchen and returned with a vacuum cleaner. He plugged it in and attempted to suck Colin up.
'It's too big,' he said, smashing Colin over the head a few more times with the nozzle before making a second attempt. This time Colin was compact enough for his crippled frame to disappear into the cleaner. 'Got it!'
Coleen slumped into the sofa and Brian jumped up beside her. 'It's okay love,' he said, 'it's gone now.'
'Thank you darling,' said Coleen. 'I hate spiders. You're so brave.'
'Phew, panic over,' said Brian, turning to Bob. 'So where is Colin?' he asked.
Bob removed the bag from the cleaner and examined it. 'Bad news I'm afraid, Brian. That was Colin. He dressed up as a spider to scare you.'
'Oh my Oliver!' said Coleen.
'Look on the bright side,' said Bob. 'At least you've saved on a coffin. You could just bury the bag.'
'Bob,' said Coleen. 'Ever since you got your bionic brain you've lost all sense of compassion. You used to love Colin.'
A look of realisation crossed Bob's face. He ripped open the bag and picked out Colin.
'I'm done for,' said a hairy ball of dust-encrusted shell.
'Don't worry old chum,' said Bob, 'we'll have you patched up in no time.'
Soon everyone was sitting around in the living room, staring at each other. Bob decided to break the silence.
'Why have you got a patch over your eye?' he asked Brian.
'I'm a pirate.'
'What's that got to do with Halloween?'
Brian shrugged his shoulders. 'Ask the wife. Aren't you going to offer us a drink?'
Bob cracked open a new bottle of Oyster Whisky, and soon everyone was sitting around cradling their glasses. As Colin warmed, he slowly began to resume his original shape.
'Ooh, that's better,' said Coleen, taking a sip and smacking her lips. 'Happy Halloween!'
'Happy Halloween!' said Brian. He downed his drink in one and held out his empty glass to Bob.
'Swrchpy Swrchawoleen,' said Colin.
'So what happens now?' Bob asked.
'I know!' said Coleen. 'Brian can tell us one of his spooky stories. That'll get us in the mood. Let's switch off the TV and get cosy!'
Before Bob could protest, Coleen grabbed the remote control and flicked off the set.
'Okay,' said Brian, offering his empty glass to Bob again. 'This one is called the Adventure of The Haunted Trousers,' he began.
'Once upon a time there was a human called Harold. Harold lived out of the sea with his best friend Otto the other human, and other assorted out-of-water creatures. One day Harold and Otto were at home. watching TV ...'
Bob decided to shut down his bionic brain, and he soon slipped into a peaceful coma.
In a dark, dank laboratory, somewhere deep beneath his castle on Sinister Tor, Professor Spatchcock-Chicken stood at an operating table. The table wasn't a table in the traditional sense of the word. In fact, it was made up of several tables joined together, supported by dozens of stacks of bricks.
On the table was an undulating mound of mostly cheese. Cheese Girl snored loudly as the Professor and half a dozen Henrys worked around her. Each Henry had a large cheesegrater, and on a large blackboard was a diagram they were following. Another group of Henrys stood at a separate table, cutting and mashing up pumpkins to make soup to the Professor's exact recipe. Another Henry was at work on Cheese Girl's chest with a needle and thread.
While the other Henrys carefully grated off huge lumps from Cheese Girl's body, the Professor took the cold soup and poured it into a funnel stuck firmly between her teeth.
When, after some hours, all the work was complete, the Professor covered Cheese Girl with an expansive white sheet and ordered the Henrys to knock up some cheese on toast using some of the scraps from the floor. As everyone tucked in with glee, the Professor thanked them.
'Well done Henrys, an excellent job. And now as a special surprise for all your hard work, we're going to play a game!'
The Henrys cheered and whooped with delight.
'Well, when I say we, I mean you. Frail and old as I am, I won't be able to join in.'
'Oh no, poor Professor,' mumbled a couple of Henrys in sympathy.
'Now, the anaesthetic should wear off in a minute or so, so I'm going to go to the safety of my control booth to watch the fun!'
While the Henrys speculated with excitement what their surprise game was going to be, the Professor left the room and locked the door behind him. He climbed some stone steps to a glass-windowed room which overlooked the laboratory, and spoke into a microphone. His voice echoed around the room.
'Wake up!'
The sheet on the operating table quivered. Then it let out a loud burp and mumbled something unintelligble. A couple of Henrys laughed.
'This is a strange game, isn't it?' said one. He turned up to look at the control room. 'Professor, you didn't tell us how to play this game. What are the rules?'
All the Henrys had turned to face the Professor now, oblivious to what had silently removed the sheet and was now sitting up on the operating table behind them.
'Oh, they're simple enough,' said the Professor. 'It's a bit one-sided really. All of you versus ...'
The Professor pointed towards the table, the Henrys followed his extended finger and span around.
'... Pumpkin Girl!' he finished.
Cheese Girl had changed. Her size had been reduced by two-thirds. Her skin colour was now bright orange (except for her prosthetic nose, which remained yellow) as was her body-hugging silky leotard and cape. The cheesy logo on her chest had been replaced with something a little more pumpkiny.
'Pumpkin Girl?' she said. Her voice was bass, gutteral. She examined her hands and arms. Then she floated up from the table into the air. 'Pumpkin Girl,' she said, nodding. 'Pumpkin Girl!'
'Time to try out your new powers, I think,' said the Professor.
'Can I go now?' said a Henry. 'I'm a bit tired.' Some of the others nodded in agreement and stifled pretend yawns.
'Of course you can. Goodbye,' said Pumpkin Girl. She exended an arm and ten-millions volts of pure pumpkin power shot out of the end of her hand. A spiralling column of fluorescent pumpkin energy cut through the air and hit the Henry square in the chest. He exploded instantly.
The other Henrys immediately stopped pretending to yawn and began to really panic, running around the room while a a shower of tiny fiery Henry-bits rained down on them. Pumpkin Girl twisted and span in the air, firing out bolts of pumpkin power with deadly accuracy. Henrys screamed and exploded, until soon there was just one left, cowering in the corner. Pumpkin Girl descended to the floor and approached him.
'P - please. Don't k - kill me! I have a wife and f - four children,' said the last Henry.
The sound of the Professor's laughter filled the room. 'No you don't!' he said. 'You've been cloned from the most boring and smelly lab assistant in the whole world, who's only girlfriend turned out to be a complete fabrication! It's no wonder I wanted to keep on killing you!'
'Princess Wotsina was real!' cried Henry. 'She loved me.'
'Yes, we all remember meeting "her" at the Christmas party. A box of Cheesy Wotsits with a tiara sellotaped to the top. Don't think everyone didn't notice.'
Pumpkin Girl tutted and put her face close up to Henry's. 'Too much cheese is bad for you, you know that?'
Henry nodded, he tried to move his head away but he was firmly wedged in the corner. Beads of sweat broke out of the folds of his forehead.
'Have some pumpkin, it's much better.'
Pumpkin Girl burped. A cloud of orange mist bellowed out of her mouth. The final Henry gasped and slid down to the floor, stone cold dead. She looked up at the smiling Professor in the control booth.
'Excellent work!' he said. 'Are you ready to take your revenge on the world?'
Pumpkin Girl nodded. 'One thing I don't understand though, Professor. What's in this for you?'
'All that pumpkin soup has certainly sharpened up your cheese-addled brain,' he replied. 'It's very simple really. There's a certain crab called Colin that told the authorities about my nefarious activities in the last story. You know, the boring one where nothing much happened. Take care of him, then you're free to do whatever you want.'
Pumpkin Girl smiled. 'It'll be a pleasure. I've got a score to settle with him myself, and his stupid fish friend.'
When Bob awoke, he was being prodded by Colin. In the background he could hear Brian finishing off the story.
'"That's okay Inspector," said Harold. "Otto helped a bit."'
'Ow! What are you doing?' said Bob.
'I think your brain went haywire again,' said Colin. 'You missed the story!'
'Sorry old chum, I was just getting into that too,' Bob lied.
'Shall I tell it again?' said Brian.
'No!' Bob blurted out.
'Why don't you tell us a different one?' said Coleen. 'It doesn't seem fair that Bob should miss out just because his brain isn't working properly.'
'Oh, okay,' said Brian, gulping down another glass of oyster whisky. 'What about "The Adventure of the Spooky Socks"? Or "The Adventure of the Freaky Bra?"'
'You mean to say,' said Bob, 'that each one of your stories is about a scary item of clothing?'
'So it is!' said Brian. 'I never realised that. So which shall it be?'
'Let me refill your glass before we decide,' said Bob. He swam over to Brian with the bottle. Using his special bionic powers, he charged up his tailfin to ten thousand volts and brushed Brian as he span around to return to his chair. Brian let out a loud hiccup and dropped his glass to the floor.
'Brian?' said Coleen, 'are you okay?'
'Oh dear,' said Bob, picking up the TV remote. 'It looks as if Brian has had a little too much to drink.'
'Dad? Dad!' said Colin, tapping his father's head with his claw. 'He's out cold!'
'He'll be okay once he's sobered up,' said Bob. 'It's a shame, I was looking forward to that. Oh well, we might as well see what's on TV.'
Bob flicked on the TV, but instead of the expected hive of inactivity that was the Celebrity Big Brother house fading into view, there was a very serious looking reporter on the screen, standing there almost as if he had been waiting for Bob to switch on. Behind him was the London Eye, spinning round like a Catherine wheel, all of its pods on fire. Hovering above, giving the wheel a periodic shove, was an orange amorphous blob with arms and legs, wearing a cape. She seemed to spot the reporter, and swooped down to land behind him with a kind of splatty thud.
'London is under attack again!' shouted the reporter into his microphone. 'Cheese Girl has returned!'
'Pumpkin Girl, actually.'
The reporter span around and gave a squeal. 'P - Pumpkin Girl?' he said.
'Don't look so confused. It's quite simple, really. Instead of cheese I now eat pumpkins. Why do you think I'm orange now, and how do you suppose I've lost all this weight, and haven't you noticed this rather large and obvious pumpkin logo on my chest?'
'Er, yes, of course,' said the reporter.
'Are you with ITV?' she asked.
'No, the BBC,' said the man.
'So there will be more than three people watching, that's good. Hand me the microphone.'
The reporter threw the microphone to Pumpkin Girl. She caught it and addressed the camera.
'There's a creature watching this that I want to see,' she said. 'Colin the Crab, get your bony behind here pronto.'
Colin's mouth dropped open. 'She looks great, and she wants to see me!'
'Colin, do you know this young lady?' said his Mum.
'Ssshhh Mum!' said Colin. 'She hasn't finished!'
'And don't forget to bring your stupid fish friend, whatever his name is.'
'What a nerve!' said Bob. 'Pretending to forget my name.'
Pumpkin Girl handed the microphone back to the reporter. 'Right, I better kill a few people while the camera's rolling I suppose, otherwise they'll never turn up,' she said, flying back to the London Eye, which had almost slowed to a halt. She lifted it from its supports and rolled it down the Embankment.
'As you can see,' the reporter continued into the camera, 'Cheese - er, Pumpkin Girl is more powerful than ever.'
In the background, Pumpkin Girl burped a queue of people at a bus stop into oblivion.
Bob flicked off the TV. 'Right, let's go,' he said. 'Adventure time!'
'Hand on a second,' said Colin. 'It's me she wants to see.'
'Hmmm, yes, you still haven't quite got the hang of this set-up, have you old chum?' said Bob.
'What do you mean?'
'What's this story called? Is it called Colin's Halloween Adventure? No, it isn't. It's called Bob's Halloween Adventure, isn't it? Just like Bob's Christmas Adventure wasn't called Colin's Christmas Adventure, remember?'
'So why did she ask for me then?' Colin asked in a defensive tone.
'Because she's consumed so much pumpkin she's gone nuts, of course. Now come on, let's go.'
'She seemed fairly articulate to me,' Colin muttered, as he followed Bob out of the door. 'See you Mum, won't be long.'
Bob and Colin found Pumpkin Girl in a residential street in London. She was barging her way through the front door, or in some cases the front window, of each house in search of Halloween pumpkins. Whenever she found one, she stuffed it straight into her mouth. Bruised and battered bodies were strewn all around.
'You took your time,' she said, spotting Bob and Colin in the street. She spat out a couple of candles. 'Pumpkin power!' she declared, and shot a bolt of pumpkin energy towards them. Bob grabbed Colin and flew onto the roof of a house, as the bolt carved a deep smouldering scar out of the tarmac.
'Don't worry old chum,' said Bob. 'I'll make short work of her with my fish-bionics.'
'You don't need to kill her, do you?'
'This time I think it might be a good idea, don't you? Otherwise she'll be back again as - I don't know - Broccoli Girl or something stupid like that. Imagine how she'd look if she was green!'
'I don't care what colour she is. She's just confused, that's all.'
At that moment the chimney stack next to them exploded in a ball of bright orange light.
'You think so?' said Bob. He grabbed Colin again and flew towards the top of an office block. 'It seems as if she knows exactly what she's doing.'
Pumpkin Girl followed them. Down below crowds were gathering on the streets to watch the fight. Lacklustre shouts of "Come on Bob!" could be heard.
'They could put a bit more effort in than that, couldn't they?' said Bob, as he and Colin landed on the roof. 'This isn't a tennis match.'
Pumpkin Girl circled above them, firing a rapid succession of bolts which Bob had to move at full pelt to dodge.
'This is no good!' said Bob. 'She moves way too fast. Our only chance is to distract her.'
A salvo of shots reigned down on them. Bob skillfully managed to avoid all but the last. It hit him in the tail, he lost his grip on Colin and span off the roof of the building. The crowd below watched as he dropped, trying in desperation to restart his damaged bionic engine.
Pumpkin Girl laughed. For one moment her head took on the appearance of a Halloween pumpkin, with triangular eyes and a jagged mouth. Only her yellow nose ruined the effect. She swooped down onto the roof and picked up Colin.
'That was easier than I expected,' she said. 'Your stupid fish friend is dead, and now it's time for you to die, crab!'
Pumpkin Girl landed on the roof of the building with a thud. She held Colin up to her face.
'Any last words, crab?' she hissed.
Colin looked directly into Pumpkin Girl's eyes and nodded. She was a little unnerved by the intensity of his stare, and the sneer she returned wasn't quite as vehement as it would have been otherwise.
'Well, go on then,' she said. 'I haven't got all day, I do have an entire planet to slaugher after I've done you.'
Colin gulped. 'I - I love you,' he said.
At first Pumpkin Girl couldn't believe her ears. But when Colin repeated those three magic words they somehow drowned out the sound of the crowd below, which for some reason was cheering. She felt tears begin to well up as she stared deep into Colin's eyes and realised he was speaking the truth. A strange tingling sensation spread across her body, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes, a feeling that was completely alien to her until now.
'But - no-one's ever said that to me before,' she said. 'This is crazy, I - I - '
'Yes?' said Colin. He felt as if his racing heart was about to explode.
'I - '
'Good work Colin!' shouted Bob. Out of nowhere he had shot up the side of the building and swooped around the distracted Pumpkin Girl to deliver a powerful fish-slap around her head, sending her hurtling towards the ground, still clutching Colin.
'Bob! No!' Colin screamed.
'Don't worry old chum,' Bob shouted, flying down the side of the building after them. Before Pumpkin Girl had chance to halt her fall, he fish-slapped her again across the stomach, doubling her up in pain.
'Noooo!' she screamed. She looked at Colin as they both accelerated towards the ground. 'Do you really love me?' she said, tears streaming upwards from the corners of her eyes. Colin nodded and moved to kiss her, just as Bob delivered another powerful fish-slap.
'Aarrgh!' she cried. She took one last look at Colin as the ground approached. 'Catch!' she shouted, throwing him towards Bob. Then with a loud kersplat, she transformed into a puddle of pumpkin pavement soup.
Bob, holding Colin, swooped down to the ground to rapturous applause and chants of 'Bob the Fish! Bob the Fish!' Somewhere in the crowd someone said 'and Colin, of course.'
'Are you alright Colin?' he asked.
Colin was crying. 'She saved my life,' he said. 'And now she's dead.'
'Well, strictly speaking, I saved your life old chum. Great work on distracting her. What did you say?'
Colin couldn't speak. He scurried to the puddle formerly known as Pumpkin Girl and began to lap it up like a thirsty dog.
Out of the crowd Chief Inspector Spiggot of Scotland Yard emerged. He strolled up to Bob and shook him firmly by the fin.
'Another job well done Bob the Fish!' he said, before noticing Colin. 'That's a bit odd, is Colin alright?'
'I think so,' said Bob. 'I guess he's just finishing her off, to make sure. He likes to get involved in these adventures of ours.'
'I'm going to check up on him, then I'm going to buy you both a slap up meal for saving the world yet again!'
Chief Inspector Spiggot walked over to Colin and put a reassuring hand on the back of his shell.
'Are you okay Colin?'
Colin looked up, orange globules dripping from his chin, and shook his head. 'Chief Inspector, I know she was evil and she murdered thousands of humans, but I loved her.'
'I thought so. I understand Colin, love knows no logic. And we're friends, so call me Wendy.'
'Do you really understand, Wendy?' Colin replied. 'Have you ever been in love?'
'Yes, I have,' Spiggot replied. 'A psycho nutjob bonkers woman I sent to prison. She was perfect for me, but I had a job to do.'
'Did you ever tell her?'
'No, I wanted to but I couldn't. It might have compromised the case. But there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of her. She was bald, had six toes on each hand and four fingers on each foot, and one eye, which she kept in her pocket.' Spiggott smiled. 'All she ever ate was Maltesers, and she had this cute habit of guffing in the packet before eating them so no-one else would ask for one. Little things like that, you can't quite put your finger on them, but somehow they make all the difference.'
'I'd tell Bob but he wouldn't understand.'
'You can talk to me any time Colin. I know exactly how you feel, it still makes me sad after all these years. Now I'm going to take you and Bob for a slap up meal, but only if you're up for it.'
Colin nodded. 'I'd like that Wendy.'
At a nearby Pizza restaurant, Bob drummed his fin on the table while Colin and the Chief Inspector spoke in hushed tones.
'I can't take all the credit Chief Inspector,' said Bob, 'Colin helped a bit!'
They continued talking quietly, oblivious to Bob's comments.
'So what are we going to eat?' said Bob, with a grin on his face. 'I don't mind, as long as there's no pumpkin on it!'
Colin and the Chief Inspector looked at Bob and tutted.