THE SECRET
OF
THE NOMADS
AND
MR. FRIGGLE
CHAPTER 1
Mr. Friggle laughed, his eyes bulged. He choked then stopped, he put his hands at his sides. "This, this a seed? It has already germinated, Steven!" "Hem, hem, now we have here a plant. D-does anybody know what plant this is?" Mr. Friggle was an old and almost retired teacher. He certainly did look like an insane doctor on plants. He was the nerd of grown-ups about plants and whatever that was related to them. Mr. Friggle looked slightly like a plant, too. He had long slender arms and rather big fingers and a slimmer body. He had bulging blue eyes that almost touched the back surface of his spectacles which were very thick, a few kids thought they were steel (which they were) and weighed a ton. Brian shakily raised his hand. Mr. Friggle crained his long head high over the slumping students which as they saw his long neck winced, slightly. "Ah, Brian so what is it?" Mr. Friggle was menacing, no doubht in that. Every kid who was in his class loathed the repulsive teacher. "A-a flower." "Good one, Brian but I would suppose you do better next time, anybody else?" Not one kid snickered at the 'flower' joke, no body dared to get stared closely at with those gigantic eyes. Brian had let a screw loose, he shouldn't have made a joke in front of that teacher. "Nobody, at all?" Not one student in the whole class raised their hand. Mr. Friggle hissed as his eyes turned into slits and as he raised the gigantic pot of the plant. He poked Freddie hard in the arm. Freddie had brushed his orange hair back today, and the impact had sent his hair toppling all over his face. He choked and gasped for breath. Mr. Friggle eyed him with those "eyes". He winced and whimpered. "What is it...Freddy?" "I-I do not know, Mr. Friggle." Mr. Friggle hissed again eyeing everybody in the class with those eyes.
He was bald except for a strip of red hair from his right ear and all the way across the back of his head to the left ear. A few, maybe one or two possibly three hairs poked out of the top of his head. He had a white and ironed lab suit on. It was slightly crinkled and a bit too big for him. It had baggy pockets, filled with tiny mechanics. He wore a pale green tie striped with purple. Finally, after ten minutes Fred raised his hand. "You should have raised it sooner, boy! What is this plant, Fred?" "I-It is a pitcher plant." "Excellent Fred, you can go write me an essay on why that answer is completely wrong. Anybody else...want to join him?" As soon as Fred's spirits had risen, they had fallen.
They were in the school lab, which was painted gray the walls were rough cement. A dimly lit lamp hung from the ceiling. It squeaked and swayed hung by a black chain haging from the ceiling. No windows were around, except the dark walls, two lamps, five white desks with nothing on them and a can of pencils which were at the fifth desk, the teacher's desk. Everybody would soon glance about and wishing for a clock. Time dragged by, nobody had track of time. The teacher, Mr. Friggle would steal somebody's watch if they brang it. The principal didn't know about this even though it had been reported millions of times but Mr. Friggle absolutely said he had not a clue about the "missing" or rather 'stolen' watch. Science period certainly took a long time, actually I would think it took two complete hours with thirty minutes extra if needed. The class did not sit even though the desks were un occupied. Their legs ached from standing for so long. Mr. Friggle stared at them, wonderlingly. "I wouldn't tell you the answer, but since I feel sorry for your little hearts you can glance through your science books for thirty minutes. "But we cannot..." "SILENCE, how about if we make it ten seconds, Steven? You have been so disruptive today, I do not know what to do with you." They hardly opened the book when the Mr. Friggle exxagurated, "look at the time, look there has passed five seconds stop!" He laughed and said seriously, "stop." The students immediately stopped and stood still. "Vincent, come over here." Vincent who was wearing a loose T-shirt, a baseball cap, and kahki shorts was wearing a...watch!" The doctor grasped Vincent's arm like a mom does when her child is in mortal danger. The difference: he was the mortal danger.
The doctor grinned and laughed as he took the watch and threw it into the trash bin. But just as that had happened a camera flashed. The doctor went hysterical he went to the student, Bernie who had flashed the camera and took the film which he exposed to the mear bit of sunshine from his lamp, and then he threw it into the trashbin along with the watch. "Ha, ha, how many times have I told you?" But little did they know that Mr. Friggle was much more nicer and caring did they think, only that he was disturbed by a few little men.
CHAPTER 2
"Ugh, finally sunlight!" "Out of prison," joked Mark. Bernie meanwhile was cursing a few kid's faces were still solemn. They had probably gotten used to it. "Come on guys, cheer up and snap out of it okay?" Fred stopped as he saw Mr. Friggle walk out from the lab last. "What were you saying, Fred? Something to snap out of, perhaps?" Uh..." Fred started.
Their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Tree was busily arranging files with a cup of coffee on her desk. She sipped some and put down the syrafoam cup. She glanced around nervously as she exhaled. She quickly took out a math textbook and started their math lesson. "We always miss lunch when we have study with that...guy." Students whispered and passed notes in the class room. Some people fooled around, and as the teacher looked up from the text book the students quieted considerably. "Ahem, now class as you know you missed lunch." Almost everybody nodded. Vincent was gazing out of the window, Victor who was sitting next to him nudged him and he said 'yes'. Soon everybody was told that they could eat lunch in the classroom! Everybody talked as the teacher was looking through the math book and putting post-its on pages that she would like to review. She sighed, it had been such a long day. The students were fooling around, and having fun. Mrs. Tree ripped up a blank post-it silently; she was pretty mad as well as tired. So many hours of sitting in her office with nobody to teach. If she drove to her house and stayed there for the class time, no body would know. She grinded the pieces in her fingers and tossed the paper aimlessly at the trash bin. It missed, she called Melissa to pick it up and toss it into the bin. Melissa obeyed and continued to play with her friends after she finished the small chore. Mrs. Tree was obsessed she had waisted so much time and was eager to squeeze in a math lesson before school was over. She kept glancing anxiously at her watch. There were dark shadows hanging low under her eyes.
She stopped their "lunch" early. We all have to do a math lesson, that means all of you! Students groaned and retorted but did not want to mess with the angry teacher. Then she scribbled the "aim" on the board and said, "copy the aim students." The students took out their blunt pencils and started writing on pieces of looseleaf paper. "Now, now, Fredrick use a clean and new sheet of paper." Fredrick started to answer but stopped and took out his last sheet of looseleaf paper. The teacher turned away from him and accompanied some other students. Then she stopped Steven and asked- "How did the science lesson go?" "Fine," Steven grumbled angrily turning to the designated page. The teacher put her hands on her hips and walked away, she asked another student about the science class. Almost all of them grumbled the quote- "fine". I said 'almost', only Mill said 'scrumptious' and 'delightful'.
CHAPTER 3
Mill was walking home from school. He had his black leather jacket wrapped tightly around him a slight but cheerful breeze danced about. He waited in front of the school for his mother's Jaguar to come. He jammed his hands into his pockets and looked down at the empty street. Kids were talking, but he and a few other guys were waiting for their parents. Mill squinted his eyes and looked around. The wind stung his eyes and blew in his face. Pieces of junk all over flew around. Finally a black Jaguar came into view and stopped in front of the school. Mill became alert as he went to the car and tapped on the glass. His mother opened the door as he climbed in and off she drove. His father, Mr. Friggle had wanted a good report of his class to every teacher. Mr. Friggle was seated with his mother in the front of the car. Mill Friggle said, "nobody knows you're my father, Dad." "Of course they...only the staff does at least." "It's embarrasing when they ask what job my dad has, you know that?" "Uh of course, but you can ignore those shan't you?" Mr. Friggle sighed, "you know I'm tense in that junky classroom down there why don't you let me rest?" "Sorry, those nomads have been troubling you have they?" "Ever since. Those goblins ask me for things for me to live, course I'm doing that for your grand mother or else they'll kill 'er. They have her for hostage anyway. What's the point of supporting someone who you'll never see again, paying for that? I mean, how do we know she's living and what's the point of paying?" "Yeah well, Pa it's good to feel somebody's safe..." "You think she's safe, enountered by those goblins who trap 'er?" They want money and a hideout, you don't disturb 'em; son." "Okay, pa." His mother looked grave but his father looked worried and tense. They kept two flare guns in the back of their car, just in case. And his father bought eight complete emergency kits that he had wherever he went.
His mom spoke up, "should we report this?" "Shan't," his Dad said. Mr. Friggle smoothed down his hair and sighed, his eyes weren't bulging anymore. "We'll soon have to give up this car, I'll miss 'er, can drive a good nice long distance; we gotta pay up. Those rotten men, I'll pay 'em back." Mr. Friggle groaned again and his eyes bulged once again. We slip 'em illegal drugs and money they pure rotten!" Mill sighed and put his folded hands on his lap, it was still breezy outside. He felt tired, his book bag was on the other seat. Mr. Friggle put his hand into the emergency bag and took out a blanket, he wrapped himself in it. "I f-feel so cold on t-this sunny d-day," he said. "You will," Mrs. Friggle said pursley and after a while, "if you are nervous." They didn't speak a word for quite a while. A slice of sunlight streamed in through the clean window. Mill shook his head staring at his shoes; "soon we won't have nough." "Yeah, but don't worry we'll think of something. Mill's green eyes darted out the window and saw a few kids in yellow jackets walking home and relaxing. He wished he were in the same state. "Ever since they started to threaten us, we thought it was a joke in those little "costumes" but a-after a while we r-realized they were real, Mill." Mr. Friggle's voice shook so badly, he had sweat on his forehead. Mill looked away from the boys and to his father. His black hair was combed and his face was certainly pale. He was worried, just like the rest of his family. "We can't back away," said Mr. Friggle. "We could but it'll be risky," reminded Mill's mother. "That p-plant, what was it; dad?" "Don't know, think it was one of their plants." 'Their' meant the little goblins that had been robbing all of their treasury sincce Mill was five. With their gradma as hostage, they had to do whatever they commanded. The goblins were dangerous little creatures not sighted by anyone except them, so far. They were magical as well as ghastly yet repulsive. Mr. Friggle loathed them so purely that he cursed during his spare time in the lab. The goblin could take shape of any student, so I would suggest that is why Mr. Friggle's eyes bulged to check carefully on the students.
Mr. Friggle continued, "if anybody knew they would be a-a-a goblin." "But I don't think you'd find them so easily would you not?" asked Mill. "Certainly wouldn't." They didn't speak for another long time, they were all so clammy yet nervous. "I m-met them today, i-in the lab they t-told me to c-call them nomads, I think." "Why nomads?" "Don't know, bet they have a secret project and have code names," Mr. Friggle joked. "Speaking of someone?" said a dark, croaky, goblin-like, repulsive, loathsome, gross, and disgusting voice from the back of the car. Mr. Friggle didn't speak. Probably not Mrs. Friggle, but could it be Mill that is a goblin?
CHAPTER 4
"Ha, ha, only joking;" said Mill. He had faked the strange voice, not letting his parents know about it. "Whew," his parents said. "I have put up with your jokes, this is a very tense moment of life, you should have known better, Mill." Mill hung his head low and didn't speak. They continued to drive all the way home...
"Hi, Mill what's up?" "Nothing," Mill answered darkly. His brother, Vulture was lying on the couch and channel surfing. Mr. Friggle's face turned pure and dark red. "YOU DON'T KNOW 'WHAT'S UP?' YOU DON'T KNOW?" "Of course I..." "NO TIME TO RELAX SHUT THE TV OFF!" Vulture groaned and turned off the TV, Vulture was suspended from school for being accused of mugging and abusing a child every day in an alleyway. Cool, that rhymes! Mr. Friggle sighed and sat on the couch, "you know, people I expect that Mrs. Tree to be a goblin, the queen of them." "My teacher?" asked Mill. "Yeah, she is a suspect as well as all the people in the world." "Even us?" asked Vulture. "N-yeah, I do not highly think you guys are goblins but it is possible." Vulture sighed and said, "what's the use of paying for a person who'll we'll never see?" "Don't know." They were certainly in a very dark and drowsy mood. "So, what I was saying Mrs. Tree was it not?" "It was." "Yeah, Mrs. Tree is a tired old lady who stays at your school and I would hypothesize she contacts the goblins while she is at the classroom time. Tomorrow here's the plan:
I say I want to speak with Mill.
Mill comes with me and we check out her classroom, spy on her.
She does anything with the goblins we continue to listen. If she notices us, or anybody else does I pretend I'm talking with Mill.
The class will wait, they know they don't want to get me angry. We do that for as long as possible, day after day at the most."
"Good plan," said Mrs. Friggle. "But too risky." "Why?" "She could be guarded by the goblins." "Oh." Mr. Friggle looked surprised then thought again, he took off his spectacles and wiped them with his lab suit. "I better try at least, they can't attack at school." "Maybe they could," said his wife softly. He didn't hear her. Mill said at last, I was researching about goblins at school the other day." "What day?" "The day that is called yesterday." "Yeah and what was there?" "There were a few words that said goblins are mischeivious, uh magical, cursed, and cultural fantasy creatures. Of course they aren't fantasy creatures, but it said they are easy to defeat physically but are very good in attack. They are smart and small which makes them fast and dodgy." "That was all?" "Yeah."
Mr. Friggle sighed and wiped his glasses again. They kept on pondering for five hours, finally Mr. Friggle said to the children "do your homework."
The boys obediently took out their homework, and Vulture offered to help with Mill since Vulture was suspended. When finally, Mrs. Friggle came up with the best choice they ever thought of. "Show the plant to other scientists." She was staring silently with no expression at the basement door, which began to creak open an inch. Nobody was down there except...
CHAPTER 5
A goblin. The goblin was wearing a ragged and woolen sweater which was gray, red meat dribbled down from its torn and stitched jaw. His eyes were big, his ears erect and sharp. He snarled menacingly showing the few teeth he had. On his head was an orang turned over funnel-like hat. "oo are you?" He didn't wait for them to answer, they were obviously petrified. "Ah, the Friggles, eh?" "Y-yes," Mr. Friggle said shielding his family from the goblin. "Gimme the cash, Friggle." Mr. Friggle trembled and reached into his wallet where he took out his credit card and a few bills. "Ah, thank you..." "scumbag." Mr. Friggle trembled and shivered when he heard the footsteps of the goblin going down the basement stairs. Soon there was a creak of a trap door and no other sound was heard. Mr. Friggle winced as he heard the trap door snap very quickly and abruptly. Mr. Friggle clutched a crowbar in one hand, and held it in shaking and sweaty fingers. Mill was petrified and so was Mrs. Friggle along with Vulture. Mr. Friggle's jaw shook uncontrollably, his eyes darted around wildly. Mr. Friggle spoke so shakily that it was hard to listen to him clearly, "w-w-w-we w-will 'a-'ave to g-g-give up t-the c-car." His family was not petrified but rather scared and stiff at the moment.
He went into the kitchen where he picked up the phone and dialed. He was still holding the crowbar. Meanwhile in the goblin hideout...
"What'd you get?" "From oo?" The goblin that had went to the Friggle's 'habitat' had returned to their kingdom where seated in the throne was Greg Simpkins, their king. "The Friggles, stupid; nobody else." "Ah, yeah the Friggles got 'eir 'redit card a-and 'ome 'ills." "'ills?" "Bills, milord." "Ah, perfect y-yes, thank you; very good, indeed..." The goblin beamed and looked up at his excellency. Simpkins was seated in the solid and gold throne glimmered with the sapphires, emeralds and rubies. Some of them were "stitched" to his front shirt. The throne was also ingraved with turquoises, slates of pale lavendar, and a variety of rare minerals. From the throne there were bills poking out and have concealed in the golden throne. It looked like a glimmering and golden throne with bills poking out. Weird, eh? Well, it ain't weird to...'them'. The lord smiled and demanded, "HAND IT OVER." The goblin handed the wallet over and the bills. The master laughed and called to a nearby guard, "FOR HIS REWARD HE SHALL BE BEHEADED! It's better than nothing, they always say!" The slave whimpered and spoke no word. Everybody knew their leader was a mean and cruel goblin. His guards were bewildered but they too obeyed their leader. The leader had been drunk and something in his head was 'wrong'.
The leader chuckled and put his fingertips together eyeing them all with great uniscion. He looked clumsily at the whimpering slave. The slave's face was red, the master said in a slow drowning voice, "hmm, you shall live for one, just one more day." The slave looked up at Greg Simpkns with shock but shut up with the whimpering. The master gave a cruel bark of laughter...
Mr. Friggle said out loud with a sign hanging down from his neck. "Come, car for sale; nice good Jaguar!" "Come on folks, it cheap!" A few trespassers walked by in interest; glanced for a moment and gave a snort of disgust. Mr. Friggle's face was red, he wore a ragged and old tattered shirt. Their house was burnt down, they only owned their car. Just then a short, and stubby little man with a pointed nose came up to them. "Hmm, I'll take it; how much you want?" "Thirty thousand." "Hmm, can I say round--okay, okay I'll give you the money." The short man had a very goblin-like and sheepish voice. A sharp ladies voice somewhat familiar cut the man's voice. Mrs. Tree was standing behind the man, with black gloves and a black scepter in her right hand which she tapped inpatiently on the gravel road. "I'll pay you more, how about eighty thousand, mister?" "Great, I'll sell it to you." Mr. Friggle grabbed the bills, but just at that moment the short hand of the man grabbed his hand. "I'll pay you more, how about 200, 000?" "Excellent." Mrs. Tree said in a deep voice, "I'll pay you eight million for that car!" The goblin man gaped and walked away. "Fine," he took the five suitcases packed with bills and handed her the keys to the car and she had to sign a few forms, too. Mr. Friggle said to Mill, "I hope she knows it has a flat tire." Just then the flat tire lazy on the ground was covered in gold sparks and was good as new. The sparks soared over the car and made it perfect. It sped off, but just then a pair of wings poked out of the windows. The car took off into the air and soared over the cemetary. "Great lord," Vulture murmmered
OF
THE NOMADS
AND
MR. FRIGGLE
CHAPTER 1
Mr. Friggle laughed, his eyes bulged. He choked then stopped, he put his hands at his sides. "This, this a seed? It has already germinated, Steven!" "Hem, hem, now we have here a plant. D-does anybody know what plant this is?" Mr. Friggle was an old and almost retired teacher. He certainly did look like an insane doctor on plants. He was the nerd of grown-ups about plants and whatever that was related to them. Mr. Friggle looked slightly like a plant, too. He had long slender arms and rather big fingers and a slimmer body. He had bulging blue eyes that almost touched the back surface of his spectacles which were very thick, a few kids thought they were steel (which they were) and weighed a ton. Brian shakily raised his hand. Mr. Friggle crained his long head high over the slumping students which as they saw his long neck winced, slightly. "Ah, Brian so what is it?" Mr. Friggle was menacing, no doubht in that. Every kid who was in his class loathed the repulsive teacher. "A-a flower." "Good one, Brian but I would suppose you do better next time, anybody else?" Not one kid snickered at the 'flower' joke, no body dared to get stared closely at with those gigantic eyes. Brian had let a screw loose, he shouldn't have made a joke in front of that teacher. "Nobody, at all?" Not one student in the whole class raised their hand. Mr. Friggle hissed as his eyes turned into slits and as he raised the gigantic pot of the plant. He poked Freddie hard in the arm. Freddie had brushed his orange hair back today, and the impact had sent his hair toppling all over his face. He choked and gasped for breath. Mr. Friggle eyed him with those "eyes". He winced and whimpered. "What is it...Freddy?" "I-I do not know, Mr. Friggle." Mr. Friggle hissed again eyeing everybody in the class with those eyes.
He was bald except for a strip of red hair from his right ear and all the way across the back of his head to the left ear. A few, maybe one or two possibly three hairs poked out of the top of his head. He had a white and ironed lab suit on. It was slightly crinkled and a bit too big for him. It had baggy pockets, filled with tiny mechanics. He wore a pale green tie striped with purple. Finally, after ten minutes Fred raised his hand. "You should have raised it sooner, boy! What is this plant, Fred?" "I-It is a pitcher plant." "Excellent Fred, you can go write me an essay on why that answer is completely wrong. Anybody else...want to join him?" As soon as Fred's spirits had risen, they had fallen.
They were in the school lab, which was painted gray the walls were rough cement. A dimly lit lamp hung from the ceiling. It squeaked and swayed hung by a black chain haging from the ceiling. No windows were around, except the dark walls, two lamps, five white desks with nothing on them and a can of pencils which were at the fifth desk, the teacher's desk. Everybody would soon glance about and wishing for a clock. Time dragged by, nobody had track of time. The teacher, Mr. Friggle would steal somebody's watch if they brang it. The principal didn't know about this even though it had been reported millions of times but Mr. Friggle absolutely said he had not a clue about the "missing" or rather 'stolen' watch. Science period certainly took a long time, actually I would think it took two complete hours with thirty minutes extra if needed. The class did not sit even though the desks were un occupied. Their legs ached from standing for so long. Mr. Friggle stared at them, wonderlingly. "I wouldn't tell you the answer, but since I feel sorry for your little hearts you can glance through your science books for thirty minutes. "But we cannot..." "SILENCE, how about if we make it ten seconds, Steven? You have been so disruptive today, I do not know what to do with you." They hardly opened the book when the Mr. Friggle exxagurated, "look at the time, look there has passed five seconds stop!" He laughed and said seriously, "stop." The students immediately stopped and stood still. "Vincent, come over here." Vincent who was wearing a loose T-shirt, a baseball cap, and kahki shorts was wearing a...watch!" The doctor grasped Vincent's arm like a mom does when her child is in mortal danger. The difference: he was the mortal danger.
The doctor grinned and laughed as he took the watch and threw it into the trash bin. But just as that had happened a camera flashed. The doctor went hysterical he went to the student, Bernie who had flashed the camera and took the film which he exposed to the mear bit of sunshine from his lamp, and then he threw it into the trashbin along with the watch. "Ha, ha, how many times have I told you?" But little did they know that Mr. Friggle was much more nicer and caring did they think, only that he was disturbed by a few little men.
CHAPTER 2
"Ugh, finally sunlight!" "Out of prison," joked Mark. Bernie meanwhile was cursing a few kid's faces were still solemn. They had probably gotten used to it. "Come on guys, cheer up and snap out of it okay?" Fred stopped as he saw Mr. Friggle walk out from the lab last. "What were you saying, Fred? Something to snap out of, perhaps?" Uh..." Fred started.
Their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Tree was busily arranging files with a cup of coffee on her desk. She sipped some and put down the syrafoam cup. She glanced around nervously as she exhaled. She quickly took out a math textbook and started their math lesson. "We always miss lunch when we have study with that...guy." Students whispered and passed notes in the class room. Some people fooled around, and as the teacher looked up from the text book the students quieted considerably. "Ahem, now class as you know you missed lunch." Almost everybody nodded. Vincent was gazing out of the window, Victor who was sitting next to him nudged him and he said 'yes'. Soon everybody was told that they could eat lunch in the classroom! Everybody talked as the teacher was looking through the math book and putting post-its on pages that she would like to review. She sighed, it had been such a long day. The students were fooling around, and having fun. Mrs. Tree ripped up a blank post-it silently; she was pretty mad as well as tired. So many hours of sitting in her office with nobody to teach. If she drove to her house and stayed there for the class time, no body would know. She grinded the pieces in her fingers and tossed the paper aimlessly at the trash bin. It missed, she called Melissa to pick it up and toss it into the bin. Melissa obeyed and continued to play with her friends after she finished the small chore. Mrs. Tree was obsessed she had waisted so much time and was eager to squeeze in a math lesson before school was over. She kept glancing anxiously at her watch. There were dark shadows hanging low under her eyes.
She stopped their "lunch" early. We all have to do a math lesson, that means all of you! Students groaned and retorted but did not want to mess with the angry teacher. Then she scribbled the "aim" on the board and said, "copy the aim students." The students took out their blunt pencils and started writing on pieces of looseleaf paper. "Now, now, Fredrick use a clean and new sheet of paper." Fredrick started to answer but stopped and took out his last sheet of looseleaf paper. The teacher turned away from him and accompanied some other students. Then she stopped Steven and asked- "How did the science lesson go?" "Fine," Steven grumbled angrily turning to the designated page. The teacher put her hands on her hips and walked away, she asked another student about the science class. Almost all of them grumbled the quote- "fine". I said 'almost', only Mill said 'scrumptious' and 'delightful'.
CHAPTER 3
Mill was walking home from school. He had his black leather jacket wrapped tightly around him a slight but cheerful breeze danced about. He waited in front of the school for his mother's Jaguar to come. He jammed his hands into his pockets and looked down at the empty street. Kids were talking, but he and a few other guys were waiting for their parents. Mill squinted his eyes and looked around. The wind stung his eyes and blew in his face. Pieces of junk all over flew around. Finally a black Jaguar came into view and stopped in front of the school. Mill became alert as he went to the car and tapped on the glass. His mother opened the door as he climbed in and off she drove. His father, Mr. Friggle had wanted a good report of his class to every teacher. Mr. Friggle was seated with his mother in the front of the car. Mill Friggle said, "nobody knows you're my father, Dad." "Of course they...only the staff does at least." "It's embarrasing when they ask what job my dad has, you know that?" "Uh of course, but you can ignore those shan't you?" Mr. Friggle sighed, "you know I'm tense in that junky classroom down there why don't you let me rest?" "Sorry, those nomads have been troubling you have they?" "Ever since. Those goblins ask me for things for me to live, course I'm doing that for your grand mother or else they'll kill 'er. They have her for hostage anyway. What's the point of supporting someone who you'll never see again, paying for that? I mean, how do we know she's living and what's the point of paying?" "Yeah well, Pa it's good to feel somebody's safe..." "You think she's safe, enountered by those goblins who trap 'er?" They want money and a hideout, you don't disturb 'em; son." "Okay, pa." His mother looked grave but his father looked worried and tense. They kept two flare guns in the back of their car, just in case. And his father bought eight complete emergency kits that he had wherever he went.
His mom spoke up, "should we report this?" "Shan't," his Dad said. Mr. Friggle smoothed down his hair and sighed, his eyes weren't bulging anymore. "We'll soon have to give up this car, I'll miss 'er, can drive a good nice long distance; we gotta pay up. Those rotten men, I'll pay 'em back." Mr. Friggle groaned again and his eyes bulged once again. We slip 'em illegal drugs and money they pure rotten!" Mill sighed and put his folded hands on his lap, it was still breezy outside. He felt tired, his book bag was on the other seat. Mr. Friggle put his hand into the emergency bag and took out a blanket, he wrapped himself in it. "I f-feel so cold on t-this sunny d-day," he said. "You will," Mrs. Friggle said pursley and after a while, "if you are nervous." They didn't speak a word for quite a while. A slice of sunlight streamed in through the clean window. Mill shook his head staring at his shoes; "soon we won't have nough." "Yeah, but don't worry we'll think of something. Mill's green eyes darted out the window and saw a few kids in yellow jackets walking home and relaxing. He wished he were in the same state. "Ever since they started to threaten us, we thought it was a joke in those little "costumes" but a-after a while we r-realized they were real, Mill." Mr. Friggle's voice shook so badly, he had sweat on his forehead. Mill looked away from the boys and to his father. His black hair was combed and his face was certainly pale. He was worried, just like the rest of his family. "We can't back away," said Mr. Friggle. "We could but it'll be risky," reminded Mill's mother. "That p-plant, what was it; dad?" "Don't know, think it was one of their plants." 'Their' meant the little goblins that had been robbing all of their treasury sincce Mill was five. With their gradma as hostage, they had to do whatever they commanded. The goblins were dangerous little creatures not sighted by anyone except them, so far. They were magical as well as ghastly yet repulsive. Mr. Friggle loathed them so purely that he cursed during his spare time in the lab. The goblin could take shape of any student, so I would suggest that is why Mr. Friggle's eyes bulged to check carefully on the students.
Mr. Friggle continued, "if anybody knew they would be a-a-a goblin." "But I don't think you'd find them so easily would you not?" asked Mill. "Certainly wouldn't." They didn't speak for another long time, they were all so clammy yet nervous. "I m-met them today, i-in the lab they t-told me to c-call them nomads, I think." "Why nomads?" "Don't know, bet they have a secret project and have code names," Mr. Friggle joked. "Speaking of someone?" said a dark, croaky, goblin-like, repulsive, loathsome, gross, and disgusting voice from the back of the car. Mr. Friggle didn't speak. Probably not Mrs. Friggle, but could it be Mill that is a goblin?
CHAPTER 4
"Ha, ha, only joking;" said Mill. He had faked the strange voice, not letting his parents know about it. "Whew," his parents said. "I have put up with your jokes, this is a very tense moment of life, you should have known better, Mill." Mill hung his head low and didn't speak. They continued to drive all the way home...
"Hi, Mill what's up?" "Nothing," Mill answered darkly. His brother, Vulture was lying on the couch and channel surfing. Mr. Friggle's face turned pure and dark red. "YOU DON'T KNOW 'WHAT'S UP?' YOU DON'T KNOW?" "Of course I..." "NO TIME TO RELAX SHUT THE TV OFF!" Vulture groaned and turned off the TV, Vulture was suspended from school for being accused of mugging and abusing a child every day in an alleyway. Cool, that rhymes! Mr. Friggle sighed and sat on the couch, "you know, people I expect that Mrs. Tree to be a goblin, the queen of them." "My teacher?" asked Mill. "Yeah, she is a suspect as well as all the people in the world." "Even us?" asked Vulture. "N-yeah, I do not highly think you guys are goblins but it is possible." Vulture sighed and said, "what's the use of paying for a person who'll we'll never see?" "Don't know." They were certainly in a very dark and drowsy mood. "So, what I was saying Mrs. Tree was it not?" "It was." "Yeah, Mrs. Tree is a tired old lady who stays at your school and I would hypothesize she contacts the goblins while she is at the classroom time. Tomorrow here's the plan:
I say I want to speak with Mill.
Mill comes with me and we check out her classroom, spy on her.
She does anything with the goblins we continue to listen. If she notices us, or anybody else does I pretend I'm talking with Mill.
The class will wait, they know they don't want to get me angry. We do that for as long as possible, day after day at the most."
"Good plan," said Mrs. Friggle. "But too risky." "Why?" "She could be guarded by the goblins." "Oh." Mr. Friggle looked surprised then thought again, he took off his spectacles and wiped them with his lab suit. "I better try at least, they can't attack at school." "Maybe they could," said his wife softly. He didn't hear her. Mill said at last, I was researching about goblins at school the other day." "What day?" "The day that is called yesterday." "Yeah and what was there?" "There were a few words that said goblins are mischeivious, uh magical, cursed, and cultural fantasy creatures. Of course they aren't fantasy creatures, but it said they are easy to defeat physically but are very good in attack. They are smart and small which makes them fast and dodgy." "That was all?" "Yeah."
Mr. Friggle sighed and wiped his glasses again. They kept on pondering for five hours, finally Mr. Friggle said to the children "do your homework."
The boys obediently took out their homework, and Vulture offered to help with Mill since Vulture was suspended. When finally, Mrs. Friggle came up with the best choice they ever thought of. "Show the plant to other scientists." She was staring silently with no expression at the basement door, which began to creak open an inch. Nobody was down there except...
CHAPTER 5
A goblin. The goblin was wearing a ragged and woolen sweater which was gray, red meat dribbled down from its torn and stitched jaw. His eyes were big, his ears erect and sharp. He snarled menacingly showing the few teeth he had. On his head was an orang turned over funnel-like hat. "oo are you?" He didn't wait for them to answer, they were obviously petrified. "Ah, the Friggles, eh?" "Y-yes," Mr. Friggle said shielding his family from the goblin. "Gimme the cash, Friggle." Mr. Friggle trembled and reached into his wallet where he took out his credit card and a few bills. "Ah, thank you..." "scumbag." Mr. Friggle trembled and shivered when he heard the footsteps of the goblin going down the basement stairs. Soon there was a creak of a trap door and no other sound was heard. Mr. Friggle winced as he heard the trap door snap very quickly and abruptly. Mr. Friggle clutched a crowbar in one hand, and held it in shaking and sweaty fingers. Mill was petrified and so was Mrs. Friggle along with Vulture. Mr. Friggle's jaw shook uncontrollably, his eyes darted around wildly. Mr. Friggle spoke so shakily that it was hard to listen to him clearly, "w-w-w-we w-will 'a-'ave to g-g-give up t-the c-car." His family was not petrified but rather scared and stiff at the moment.
He went into the kitchen where he picked up the phone and dialed. He was still holding the crowbar. Meanwhile in the goblin hideout...
"What'd you get?" "From oo?" The goblin that had went to the Friggle's 'habitat' had returned to their kingdom where seated in the throne was Greg Simpkins, their king. "The Friggles, stupid; nobody else." "Ah, yeah the Friggles got 'eir 'redit card a-and 'ome 'ills." "'ills?" "Bills, milord." "Ah, perfect y-yes, thank you; very good, indeed..." The goblin beamed and looked up at his excellency. Simpkins was seated in the solid and gold throne glimmered with the sapphires, emeralds and rubies. Some of them were "stitched" to his front shirt. The throne was also ingraved with turquoises, slates of pale lavendar, and a variety of rare minerals. From the throne there were bills poking out and have concealed in the golden throne. It looked like a glimmering and golden throne with bills poking out. Weird, eh? Well, it ain't weird to...'them'. The lord smiled and demanded, "HAND IT OVER." The goblin handed the wallet over and the bills. The master laughed and called to a nearby guard, "FOR HIS REWARD HE SHALL BE BEHEADED! It's better than nothing, they always say!" The slave whimpered and spoke no word. Everybody knew their leader was a mean and cruel goblin. His guards were bewildered but they too obeyed their leader. The leader had been drunk and something in his head was 'wrong'.
The leader chuckled and put his fingertips together eyeing them all with great uniscion. He looked clumsily at the whimpering slave. The slave's face was red, the master said in a slow drowning voice, "hmm, you shall live for one, just one more day." The slave looked up at Greg Simpkns with shock but shut up with the whimpering. The master gave a cruel bark of laughter...
Mr. Friggle said out loud with a sign hanging down from his neck. "Come, car for sale; nice good Jaguar!" "Come on folks, it cheap!" A few trespassers walked by in interest; glanced for a moment and gave a snort of disgust. Mr. Friggle's face was red, he wore a ragged and old tattered shirt. Their house was burnt down, they only owned their car. Just then a short, and stubby little man with a pointed nose came up to them. "Hmm, I'll take it; how much you want?" "Thirty thousand." "Hmm, can I say round--okay, okay I'll give you the money." The short man had a very goblin-like and sheepish voice. A sharp ladies voice somewhat familiar cut the man's voice. Mrs. Tree was standing behind the man, with black gloves and a black scepter in her right hand which she tapped inpatiently on the gravel road. "I'll pay you more, how about eighty thousand, mister?" "Great, I'll sell it to you." Mr. Friggle grabbed the bills, but just at that moment the short hand of the man grabbed his hand. "I'll pay you more, how about 200, 000?" "Excellent." Mrs. Tree said in a deep voice, "I'll pay you eight million for that car!" The goblin man gaped and walked away. "Fine," he took the five suitcases packed with bills and handed her the keys to the car and she had to sign a few forms, too. Mr. Friggle said to Mill, "I hope she knows it has a flat tire." Just then the flat tire lazy on the ground was covered in gold sparks and was good as new. The sparks soared over the car and made it perfect. It sped off, but just then a pair of wings poked out of the windows. The car took off into the air and soared over the cemetary. "Great lord," Vulture murmmered