defeat, Cheeky Charlie said, “You’re the winner, Horrible. You can bring Invincible down.”
“Not on you Nellie!” his answered. Feeding out some more string, he said, “I’m going to see how high she can go. And who knows,” he sang out, “she might reach as far as the clouds!”
Just then, an exceptionally strong gust of wind caught hold of Invincible. It lifted her higher, ever higher through the turbulent clouds. In response, Horrible Horace, despite the fact that he was already struggling to control it, fed out yet more string.
“Let go of it, Horrible! It’s too dangerous!” yelled Tinkering Tommy. “We can make another kite, later,” he told him, “even bigger and better than Invincible!”
His Horrible friend, however, would hear none of it, as he guided the mother of all kites through the dark, turbulent clouds above them.
“Aha!” he whooped as he manoeuvred Invincible between two particularly turbulent clouds. “It’s a piece of cake, so it is!” he confidently proclaimed. “Nothing can stop me now, nothing!”
Then it happened; the biggest most powerful gust of wind – ever, took hold of the Invincible. It pulled her high into heavens above. Horrible Horace held on to the string as if his life depended on it. However, he was at nothing against such an almighty force.
“Let go of it!” hollered Tinkering Tommy.
“Let go of Invincible!” shouted Cheeky Charlie.
“Let go of it, you berk!” yelled Meddling Maurice.
“Who called me a berk?” Horrible Horace snapped, just as his feet began rising from the ground.
“You’re taking off!” shouted Tinkering Tommy.
“You’ll end up in heaven!” laughed Cheeky Charlie.
“If he’s so lucky!” hooted Meddling Maurice.
“What did you creeps say about me?” Horrible Horace asked.
“You are more concerned as to what we are saying about you,” Meddling Maurice hollered, “than what is happening to you, you berk! Can’t you see that you are rising from the ground?”
Looking down, seeing his feet dangling beneath him, Horrible Horace shrieked, “HELP!”
“Let go of the string!” shouted Tinkering Tommy.
“Jump! Jump!” ordered Cheeky Charlie.
“You’re disappearing into the clouds!” warned Meddling Maurice
He was right; Horrible Horace’s ascent was fast, so fast he was already entering the world of the clouds, a world of wild, turbulent and ever so dark vapours. Seeing this, his friends feared for his life.
“I can’t see you!” Horrible Horace called out from above. “It’s too foggy up here!” he said, coughing and spluttering his way through the cloud vapours.
“Can you see him?” Tinkering Tommy asked the other boys.
“No, I can’t,” Cheeky Charlie replied.
“Look!” said Meddling Maurice. “There he is!”
“Where?”
“In between those two clouds.”
“He’s so high,” said Tinkering Tommy.
“He’s almost gone,” said Cheeky Charlie.
“He’s heading for heaven,” said Meddling Maurice.
High above them Horrible Horace held on to the string like he might never let go. Exiting a cloud, he caught sight of his friends, so far below. “Oh dear, oh dear,” he whimpered. “Whatever is to become of me?” Then, entering another dark cloud he began coughing again. “Why are these clouds so fumy?” he asked. “I thought clouds were supposed to be made of water vapour. That’s what Miss Battle-Scars told us, at school.” Another break in the clouds offered him clear view to the ground. “Is that school?” he said. “Or is it the Houses of Parliament? It looks so different from up here.
The wind suddenly died down. “At least that’s in my favour,” Horrible Horace said thankfully.
Although the wind had eased considerably, Invincible continued to rise. Up went the kite with the boy dangling precariously beneath it, through dark, dank, fumy clouds that showed no sign of abating. “Will I ever get to the top of these clouds?” Horace grumbled. Sniffing the fumes, he sang out, “That’s it, the fumes, I know what they are! There are sweets! I can smell SWEETS!”
He was right, the smell, the aroma permeating the clouds was undeniably of sweets. “Humbugs, and bull’s eyes, and cow’s eyes, and sherbet fountains!” the Horrible child sang out. “Liquorice, aniseed balls and wait-a-while fandangles!” They’re all here – and more – at the top of the world!”
Even though he was holding onto the string, and dangling ingloriously under Invincible, the aroma of sweets was so good it took Horrible Horace’s mind off it. “Where on earth is the smell coming from,” he asked.
Light, bright ever so white sunlight marked Horrible Horace’s passage through the top of the clouds. Above them, he marvelled at the clear blue sky. “Wow, it’s so bright up here!” he said, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. Drifting slowly over the top of a huge cloud, he said, “It’s so beautiful.” Reaching out his free hand, Horrible Horace let it trawl through the top of the cloud. “And it feels so soft, like mashmallowy candyfloss. Pulling his hand away from the cloud, he said, “I felt something, something hard. Methinks there is more to this cloud than just water vapour.”
After studying the cloud for several minutes, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Horrible Horace, delved his hand into it. A few moments later, he felt the same thing again; something hard passing by it. He tried to grab hold of it. “Drats!” he hissed. “I missed it!”
Almost as fast as the mysterious object had escaped his attention, another crashed into his hand. Although he tried so hard to grab hold of it, he missed it. I’m not missing the next one,” he said defiantly. Gritting his teeth, making ready to strike the instant he felt it again, Horrible Horace waited, waited, waited. A few moments later, he felt something touching his hand. Grabbing hold of it, he said, “Got you, you little rascal!”
When he opened his hand, to see what he had in it, Horrible Horace laughed, he laughed and he laughed and he laughed, because, resting in it was the largest bar of Toblerone chocolate that he had ever laid eyes on. “Why, it’s a bar of chocolate,” he said, gobsmacked by his catch.
Suddenly, Invincible began to lose height, causing Horrible Horace to re-enter the cloud. “Ow!” he cried out, when something collided with him. “Ow! Ow! That hurts!” he said as another two objects collided with him.
“This place is dangerous,” he grumbled, “with so many things careering into me.” He had no sooner said this, when another object struck him on the chin. “I’m not taking any more of this,” he harked, raising his bar of Toblerone, to use defensively as a bat.
The fog of the cloud, thinning slightly, offered Horrible Horace the chance to see better inside it. Spotting something heading fast towards him, he made ready to bat it away with the bar of Toblerone. However, when he saw what is was, he gasped, “Bars of chocolate are colliding with me!” batting another one away from him, he said, “That was a Mars Bar!”
During the time that he was within the high cloud, Horrible Horace defended himself from a variety of chocolate bars. There were seventeen Mars Bars, twenty-three Milky Ways, four bars of fruit and nut chocolate, three Turkish Delights, two Galaxies, and last but certainly not least a bar of Fizzing Fruit Chocolate Supreme that he caught hold of and ate.
Without warning, Invincible returned to its original height. Free of the cloud, Horrible Horace said, “I know there weren’t really attacking me, but they sure had me scared for a while.” Taking a last, sweet bite from the Fizzing Fruit Chocolate Supreme, he finished it, saying, “This is by far the best chocolate I have ever tasted.”
Drifting away from the chocolate filled cloud, Horrible Horace found himself approaching another one. Sniffing the air above it, he said, “This cloud smells different from the last one, no hint of chocolate, be it bitter or sweet, here. It smells of cheese!” Sniffing the air again, he added, “And onion, this cloud smells of cheese and onion.” Lo
oking at the cloud, he wondered if Invincible was going to lower him into it, like before.
Horrible Horace had no sooner thought this, when Invincible, dropping like a stone, trailed him through the said cloud. Down, down, through the cloud he went, until he emerged out the bottom of it. Hanging there, under the cloud, Horace gazed up at it.
Sniffing the air, he said, “Even from down here, it smells of cheese and onion. But why cheese and onion?” he mused. Then it happened, the cloud rained a torrent of cheese and onion crisps upon him. “Coughing, spluttering, spitting out the pieces of fried potato, he grumbled, “Chocolate was one thing – but this?”
Suddenly rising, Invincible dragged the Horrible boy up though the cloud. Up, up he went, faster and faster until he shot out the top like a cork from a bottle of champagne. “Phew!” he declared, breathing fresh air. “That was one hell of a ride!”
Making yet another flight adjustment, the mother of all kites dropped like a stone, sending its Horrible passenger plummeting again. Down, down, down he went, through the crisp filled cloud, until he appeared at the bottom for a second time, where another torrent of crisps rained on him. Munching one, Horace said cheerfully, “At least they’re salt and vinegar this time, my favourite!”
Having eaten his fill of crisps, Horrible Horace said, “What sort of a place is this, where clouds contain such wondrous things?” Spying another, even darker and more tumultuous cloud than the others, he said, “I