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The Smallest Carbon Footprint in the Land Page 2


  The prince returned to Hortense’s house accompanied by Betty, and demanded to see Hortense’s cellar.

  A look of horror spread across Hortense’s face. ‘Oh, not the cellar, your Soon-to-be Royal Majesty. I’m happy to show you any other part of my house, which is as clean and sparkling as a polished diamond. But not that dirty old cellar! Oh dear me, no! Our cleaning lady is fast asleep down there. She has been working so hard lately, poor darling, she deserves a little beauty sleep.’

  ‘Hortense,’ Betty said, ‘if you don’t show us your cellar, the prince will have you and your daughters arrested on suspicion of kidnapping Cindy.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Jamie. ‘I shall have the three of you sent to the Royal Prison, where you will be put in charge of making compost out of slops from the palace kitchen.’

  ‘Your Grunginess, I beg you, anything but that!’ shrieked Hortense. She took a key from her pocket and hurried downstairs, closely followed by Jamie and Betty.

  Hortense unlocked the cellar door. And there was Cindy sitting on a patch of damp concrete, wearing an oversized fluoro-lime ball gown, her hair in ratty tangles.

  ‘Jamie! Betty!’ Cindy sobbed. ‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you both. I was hoping one of you might rescue me.’

  Betty picked up Cindy and gave her a fairy godmotherly hug. Then Jamie took Cindy’s grimy hand and kissed it. ‘I say, Cindy, would you be so awfully kind as to consider becoming my wife?’

  Cindy thought about it for a moment, before replying, ‘I don’t think so, Jamie.’

  Betty blinked in amazement. ‘Cindy, what do you mean, you don’t think so? Doesn’t every poor girl dream of a fairy tale wedding?’

  ‘Not this one,’ said Cindy, somewhat embarrassed. ‘My dream has been to live happily ever after in a comfortable little cottage, with a kind, smart gardener for a husband. We could raise one or two children together, and a few chooks and goats as well. I’ve never wanted to live in a castle and spend my time being chased around by photographers and reporters.’

  ‘I could help you build a sunny, mud-brick cottage in the palace grounds,’ Betty offered. ‘We could use recycled materials in the cottage. I have some fabulous old doors and windows in the backyard of the Op Shop.’

  ‘Marry me, Cindy,’ said Prince Jamie, ‘and I’ll do my best to see that we both live happily ever after.’

  Messy Lox Goes to the Planet of the Bears

  Once upon a faraway time in the future, Space Cadet Lox buzzed her space bug out of the Ursa Minor Starstation. Before long she came across three planets – a big planet, a middle-sized planet and a baby planet.

  Sailing around the big planet, she found it was a scorched desert, crissed and crossed with empty highways and byways. She saw skyscrapers, factories and houses everywhere, but nobody seemed to be living on this planet anymore.

  Curious to discover why, Messy Lox landed her space bug. When she opened the turbo door she was knocked over by a blast of hot dry air. ‘Great blistering suns spots!’ she cried. ‘This planet is too hot!’

  She circled the medium-sized planet and saw it was a wintry wasteland, crissed and crossed by icy highways and byways. She saw snow-capped skyscrapers, factories and houses everywhere, but nobody seemed to be living on this planet anymore.

  Curious to know why, she landed her space bug, opened the turbo door, and was knocked over by a hailstorm. ‘G-g-great freezing ref-f-frigerators!’ she cried. ‘This p-p-planet is too c-c-cold!’

  When she sailed around the little planet she did not see highways or byways anywhere. She didn’t see skyscrapers, factories or houses either. Instead she saw gentle green hills washed by sunlight. ‘Sweet silken sunbursts!’ she cried. ‘This planet is just right!’

  She landed her space bug, opened the turbo door, and stepped down onto the baby planet.

  The temperature was not too hot and not too cold.

  The gravity was not too light and not too heavy.

  And the air smelt fresh as oranges and lemons.

  Messy Lox went for a walk in the woods. She heard birds carolling, frogs blomping and insects thrumming. She saw silver fish jumping in a stream which burbled along cheerfully. The whole woods seemed to be singing the same tune:

  La dee dah dah, cheep cheep cheep,

  thrum thrum thrum,

  thrum thrum thrum,

  la dee dah dah, cheep cheep cheep,

  splish splish,

  splash splash,

  blomp blomp blomp.

  Messy Lox started singing the tune of the woods. But before long her stomach began to rumble. ‘Suffering snack attacks, I’m hungry!’ she cried.

  She noticed a tree with curly white leaves, bent over with a load of delicious looking fruit. She picked one and bit into it. ‘Yumbo gumbo schmumbo!’ she said, as sweet purple juice dribbled down her moon jelly jacket.

  She picked nuts from a yellow-leafed tree. They tasted like shortbread biscuits, only better.

  She picked mushrooms from the forest floor. They tasted like roast chestnuts.

  Everything about this baby planet, she decided, was JUST RIGHT.

  Messy Lox returned to her space bug and decided that she would clean it up, for it was very messy indeed. She packed up all her empty junk food containers, disposable space clothes, dirty bedding, plastic knives, forks and spoons, and placed them in the junkerator. She also put her cans of spent fuel in the junkerator and her empty packets of Spacesparkle. Then she pressed the junkerate button and sprayed her rubbish into the woods.

  Satisfied with her hard work, she felt like having a nap. So she headed back to the stream, lay on its grassy bank and fell asleep in the sweet juicy sunshine.

  She awoke to a whizzing noise. Looking up, she saw a Little Dipper hovercraft.

  The spacecraft landed, its turbo door opened and a ramp creaked to the ground. And out lumbered three bears – a papa bear, a mama bear and a baby bear.

  Papa Bear lifted his nose, sniffed and grumbled, ‘Someone’s been rubbishing our air!’

  Mama Bear pointed to some junk food containers floating on the stream. ‘Someone’s been rubbishing our stream!’

  Baby Bear pointed at Messy Lox. ‘Someone’s been rubbishing our woods and there she is!’

  ‘Catch that messy scoundrel and don’t let her escape,’ Papa Bear ordered.

  Messy Lox jumped up and tried to run away, but the bears caught her and marched her through the woods. Before long they came to their den in a rocky hillside.

  An empty circus cage stood at the entrance to the den. The circus cage had the word PEOPLE painted over its door in fancy gold letters. Mama and Papa Bear pushed Messy Lox into the cage and locked the door.

  ‘Oh let me go, bears, please let me go,’ Messy Lox begged.

  ‘We can’t let you go,’ Mama Bear explained, ‘or you might buzz away in your space bug and mess up another planet.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Messy Lox sobbed. ‘I’ll never mess up a planet ever again. Please let me go.’

  Mama Bear and Papa Bear shook their grizzly heads. But Baby Bear stared at her curiously.

  ‘Oh, Baby Bear, you look so lonely,’ said Messy Lox. ‘Are you the only little bear on this baby planet? Tell your mama and papa to let me go and I promise I’ll be your friend.’

  ‘Baby Bear, don’t listen to that messy little girl,’ said Mama Bear. ‘People cannot be trusted!’

  Then Mama Bear, Papa Bear and Baby Bear lumbered off to their den.

  At dinner time Papa Bear returned to the circus cage and thrust a bowl of porridge through the bars.

  Messy Lox tasted it. ‘Ugh, this porridge is too hot!’

  ‘So is the first planet we bears lived on,’ Papa Bear growled. ‘That big planet used to be just right until people started living there. They built houses and skyscrapers and factories, and highways and byways for their cars and trucks. And they rubbished the big planet so badly that they turned it into a scorched desert. Nobody could live there anymore, so Mama Bear and I stole one of th
eir space craft and escaped to the middle-sized planet.’

  After Papa Bear had returned to his den, Messy Lox blew on her porridge to cool it. And because she was hungry, she ate it. Then she lay down to sleep on a mattress in the cage. But she hardly slept a wink all night, because there were two planets in the sky, one hot red planet and one cold white planet, which seemed to glare at her like two accusing eyes.

  The next morning, Mama Bear brought her another bowl of porridge. Messy Lox picked up the spoon, tasted it and sulked. ‘This porridge is too cold!’

  ‘So is the second planet we bears lived on,’ Mama Bear told her. ‘But then people made it their home. They rubbished the middle-sized planet and turned it into a wintry wasteland. We bears couldn’t live there anymore so we escaped to this baby planet – which is just right. And we want to keep it that way.’

  At lunch time Baby Bear brought Messy Lox another bowl of porridge. ‘I made the porridge all by myself,’ Baby Bear said, grinning.

  ‘Won’t you be my friend, dear Baby Bear?’ asked Messy Lox. She slipped her hands through the bars of the cage, trying to take his paws. ‘We could have fun playing together in the woods.’

  But Baby Bear refused to take her hands. ‘You are a very bad girl, Messy Lox. You rubbished our little planet and now the woods won’t sing anymore.’

  Messy Lox hung her head in shame. ‘I’m sorry, Baby Bear. But if you let me out of this cage I could clean up my mess and have the woods singing again.’

  ‘Mama Bear and Papa Bear would be very cross if I let you out,’ said Baby Bear.

  Just then, Mama Bear and Papa Bear waddled out of their den. Papa Bear cuffed Baby Bear with his paw.

  ‘Stop talking to that messy little rascal, Baby Bear,’ said Papa Bear. ‘We’re going to go for a walk now, to show you what damage she has done to our lovely little planet.’

  As the bears lumbered away, Messy Lox rattled the bars. ‘Oh bears, please let me out! I’ll clean up the woods.’

  Then she sat down on the mattress and sobbed. When she had cried her eyes dry, she began to feel hungry again. So she began to eat the porridge which Baby Bear had made all by himself. And she decided that this porridge was JUST RIGHT! Because she found a key in the porridge bowl. Baby Bear must have put the key in the porridge when Mama Bear and Papa Bear were not looking!

  She unlocked the cage door and sprinted for her space bug.

  Messy Lox clambered aboard and shut the turbo door. Then she set her course for the Ursa Minor Spacestation.

  ‘Great glittering galaxies,’ she thought as she fired up the engine, ‘I had better get away quickly before the bears return from their walk.’

  But Messy Lox could not help thinking about Baby Bear, and how sad he had been that the woods weren’t singing any more. So she switched off the engine, picked up a rubbish-net, and headed for the woods.

  She was strapping rubbish to the underside of her space bug when the three bears discovered her.

  ‘That messy little girl has escaped!’ growled Mama Bear.

  ‘Catch her!’ growled Papa Bear. ‘And this time we’ll make sure she never escapes again!’

  ‘But Mama Bear, Papa Bear, listen!’ said Baby Bear.

  The bears stopped to listen.

  And so did Messy Lox.

  They heard birds carolling, frogs blomping and insects thrumming. They saw silver fish splashing in a stream which burbled along cheerfully. The whole woods seemed to be singing the same tune.

  La dee dah dah, cheep cheep cheep,

  thrum thrum thrum,

  thrum thrum thrum,

  la dee dah dah, cheep cheep cheep,

  splish splish,

  splash splash,

  blomp blomp blomp.

  ‘The woods are singing!’ cried Baby Bear, dancing for joy.

  ‘So they are!’ Papa Bear and Mama Bear started dancing with Baby Bear and singing to the tune of the woods. Then Messy Lox joined in, singing and dancing with the three bears.

  Puffed out from all that singing and dancing, Mama Bear told Messy Lox she could leave now.

  ‘Come back soon, Messy Lox,’ said Baby Bear.

  ‘But next time we don’t want any of your rubbish,’ warned Papa Bear.

  Messy Lox wiped a lock of golden hair from her eyes and smiled. ‘Great sizzling comet tails, I’d love to come back! And next time, bears, you can call me Goldie.’

  Bling!

  Once upon a dazzling sunrise, a young fisherman rowed out into a bay, set his net and rowed back to shore. As he dragged his dinghy out of the surf he noticed his neighbour collecting oysters, mussels and periwinkles from the nearby rocks. ‘Lovely morning, Nina!’ he called.

  Nina walked over to him, carrying a bag of shellfish. ‘Gorgeous. Hey, Gus, would you like to have these for your lunch?’

  Gus grinned, showing wide gaps between his front teeth. ‘Thanks, Nina. And when I collect my net this afternoon, you shall have fish for your dinner.’

  As Gus rowed out to collect his net that afternoon, he was thinking about inviting Nina over for a feast of fish and chips that evening. But when he pulled on his net, it felt much lighter than he had expected. As he dragged the net on board he was disgusted with his luck. He had not caught a single fish, just an old glass bottle which was encrusted with seaweed and barnacles. He picked up the bottle and was about to hurl it overboard when the bottle’s stopper glinted in the sunset. So he decided he would keep the bottle. If he could persuade some rich fool that the stopper was made from gold, this bottle might be worth a lot of money.

  Nina was waiting for him on the shore. He explained that he had not caught a single fish, and trudged uphill to his hut, with the bottle tucked in the pocket of his jacket.

  The only food he could find in his hut was a can of sardines. He opened the can, picked up a fork and gobbled down the sardines. Then he drew the bottle from his jacket and pulled out the stopper.

  BLING!

  A sparkling golden haze filled the room, together with a sickly-sweet smell. From the midst of the haze a sickly-sweet voice asked, ‘So what can I do for you today, my lucky friend?’

  As the haze settled, Gus found himself staring at a genie. The genie was wearing the full fairy tale genie garb – a crimson turban, silver slippers which rolled up at the toes, floppy purple pants, a gold cummerbund and an embroidered vest. And you would not believe the amount of jewellery the genie was wearing.

  ‘From the look of you, my boy, I have a job ahead of me,’ said the genie. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Gus,’ said Gus, trying to wipe away the sticky gold dust which was settling on his skin and clothes. ‘What’s yours?’

  ‘Call me Bling.’ The genie flashed a perfect set of white teeth. ‘Now don’t tell me, let me guess! Your first wish is for a banquet, isn’t it, Gus? You scrawny fishermen always wish for a good nosh-up first.’

  Gus shouted for joy. ‘You got it, Bling! Bring me a banquet. I want dishes from every nation in the world – gourmet food – the best.’

  ‘Hey, hey, hey, a banquet like this will take hours to prepare,’ said Bling. ‘So toddle off to bed, Gussy boy, and get some shut-eye. And while you’re zzzzizing away, I’ll perform a miracle in this rotten little kitchen of yours. See you at breakfast, my skinny friend.’

  Gus found it hard to sleep with only a few sardines in his stomach. By sunrise, he could bear it no longer. He leaped out of bed, rushed to the kitchen and found the table and genie hidden in a haze of sticky golden dust.

  ‘It’s bling dust,’ the genie explained. ‘Ignore it. Progress is progress, and you can’t have progress without bling dust.’

  When the bling dust had settled, Bling threw off a tablecloth to reveal the finest banquet Gus had ever seen.

  Gus sat down and began to eat ravenously.

  ‘Not bad, eh?’ said the genie. ‘Considering this is the first banquet I have produced in a thousand years.’

  ‘You’re a wonder, Bling,’ said Gus, his mouth full o
f chicken à la king. The thought crossed his mind that he could invite Nina over to share this marvellous feast – after all, he owed her a meal. But she would ask where this banquet had come from. And if she, or their other neighbours, knew about Bling, there could be trouble.

  Gus continued to guzzle all day while Bling snored on the couch in the corner of the hut. At sunset the genie flicked open his eyes, yawned and sat up. And as he moved, his jewellery jangled.

  ‘Excuse me, Bling,’ said Gus.

  ‘Gussie boy,’ said Bling, ‘I know what you’re going to ask. You want to know how many wishes I will grant you. Well, you can have one wish a day for the rest of your life. But only at sunset. And, my goodness, how time flies – it’s sunset already. Time to get to work on your next wish. You must give up this fishing lark of course. You never know whether you’ll catch a fish from one day to the next. What you need is a steady income. A business which will make you richer than anyone in your village. Richer than anyone in your country. And I have the perfect wish for you! What do you think of this, my boy? By tomorrow you will own your very own shopping complex!’

  When Gus awoke the next morning there was not a speck of bling dust anywhere inside the hut. But when he looked out the window he saw a shopping centre covering half the hillside. And hanging over the shopping centre was a cloud of bling dust.

  ‘Like it, Gussie boy?’ asked Bling.

  ‘Sure,’ said Gus, ‘but where are my neighbours’ huts?’

  ‘Oh, those old humpies?’ Bling scoffed. ‘If your neighbours want to give up fishing and get a real job, there will be jobs galore in your shopping centre. Your neighbours can get a job, save up and build bigger, better houses. Modern homes, my friend, with heaters and air-conditioners, fridges, computers and plasma screens. Where are you going?’

  ‘To inspect my shopping centre.’

  ‘Not without your bling-dust protection, my friend.’ Bling handed him a pair of dark glasses, a pair of leather shoes with non-stick soles, and an umbrella.

  At sunset Gus returned to his hut sporting a stylish haircut, an expensive suit and a delighted smile.