Gasp of the Ghoulish Guinea Pig

CHAPTER ONE

“Here they come!” called Joe.

Toby, his little brother, gave a squeal of delight as a streak of brown and white fur shot out of a bendy green tube, closely followed by two more.

“Go, guinea pigs!” shouted Erin, a
curly-haired
girl the same age as Joe. She was sitting at the other end of the hall waving a bunch of parsley, while three guinea pigs raced through the obstacle course towards her, squeaking as they went.

It was Sunday afternoon, the start of the half-term holiday, and Joe and Toby and their parents were visiting the Crawfords. While the grown-ups chatted in the living room, the children were playing with the family’s three guinea pigs – Lightning, Flash and Bolt. The obstacle course they’d built ran down the length of the Crawfords’ hallway.

“Oops!” giggled George, Erin’s little brother, as the guinea pigs decided not to jump over the small fence they’d made and went round the side instead.

“They’re heading for the seesaw!” shrieked Toby.

“Come on!” called Erin, waving the parsley up and down. “Come and get the goodies!”

Flash – the biggest guinea pig – sniffed the air and let out a squeak of excitement, then shot through the cardboard archway and over the finish line, closely followed by Bolt and Lightning.

“Why does Flash always win?” groaned George.

“Because he’s awesome!” Erin scooped Flash up gently and rewarded him with a sprig of parsley. “That’s why I chose him.”

“Lightning and Bolt are cool, too,” said George, giving the other two their share of the parsley.

Joe crouched down next to Erin and stroked Flash’s small brown and white head. “When did you get them?”

“About four months ago. They’re still quite young…”

“And very excitable!” added Erin’s mum, who had appeared in the hall carrying a tray of empty mugs. “All that squeaking!”

“Squeak! Squeak!” mimicked George in a funny guinea-pig voice.

Toby giggled and joined in. “Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!”

The guinea pigs stopped chewing their parsley and looked at the boys as though they were mad.

“I wish I had a guinea pig,” sighed Toby. “They’re so cool.”

“Want to hold Flash?” Erin nodded to the space next to her. “Sit there and I’ll put him on your lap. Watch out – he’s a bit of a pooper!”

Toby and George giggled.

“Can I hold one, too?” Joe asked.

George put Bolt on Joe’s knee. The guinea pig began snuffling around his pockets looking for treats. Joe stroked his head and the guinea pig gave a small squeak.

“He likes you,” said Erin.

But just then Bolt wriggled off Joe’s lap and scuttled back to Lightning.

“They’re best friends,” George explained. “They like to stick together.”

“What about Flash?” asked Joe. The biggest guinea pig was still sitting happily on Toby’s knee.

“He’s a bit braver,” said Erin. “The other two follow him about. It’s a bit like me and George,” she giggled. “I’m Flash and George is Bolt!”

“Joe, Toby – five minutes!” Mum called from the living room.

Toby groaned. “I don’t want to go home!”

“Quick,” Erin said. “Let’s do the course again!” She picked up Flash and Lightning, while George took Bolt, and they carried them back to the beginning of the obstacle course.

As soon as Erin let Flash go, he took off through the first tunnel, squeaking excitedly.

“Hey!” said Erin, as Lightning wriggled in
her arms. She put him down and he chased after Flash. Bolt caught up, following the others.

George and Toby began squeaking again, copying the guinea pigs.

“We’ve got two new pets!” said Mrs Crawford as the grown-ups appeared in the hall.

Joe’s dad grinned. “Shall I put them in the hutch for you?”

Toby and George made silly guinea-pig faces and squeaked even louder.

“Come on, boys! Time to go,” said Mum, holding out Toby’s fleece.

Toby’s face fell. “But I want to stay.”

“You can come another time,” said Mrs Crawford. “What about Tuesday? It’s George’s birthday and he’s having a monster party. It would be lovely if Joe and Toby could come.”

“Yes, please!” said Toby excitedly.

“Cool!” George added.

Joe was less enthusiastic. The idea of a
five-year
-old’s birthday party wasn’t so appealing to him.

“Well…” he began.

Mrs Crawford smiled. “Maybe you’ve already got plans, Joe. But it would be lovely if Toby could come.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Mum asked Mrs Crawford.

“Of course not! We’ve already got a houseful of kids coming – another one won’t matter.”

“Awesome!” said Toby and George. And they started squeaking again.

“Five more minutes, Joe, and then turn it off!” called Dad, poking his head round the
living-room
door.

It was a few hours later and Joe was playing a motor-racing video game.

“Did you hear me?” Joe’s dad asked.

Joe made a face. “Yeah, all right, Dad.”

Just one more lap
, he thought to himself as he steered his car through the flags.

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!

“Get lost, Toby!” Joe grumbled, not bothering to turn round. “Dad says I’ve still got five minutes!”

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!

“Go away!”

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!

Why were little brothers so annoying! Joe grabbed a cushion, spun round and lobbed it at Toby – but he wasn’t there.

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!

Joe frowned. “Toby? Where are you?”

“Under here, Joe!” came a squeaky voice.

Joe peered under the coffee table and gasped. It was Flash!