Toad Rage by Morris Gleitzman Read Free Book Online Page A

tank.”
    “Actually,” said Limpy, “I'd like this truck to get to where it's going.”
    He told Goliath about the Games and being a mascot.
    Goliath stared at him. “Have you been frying your brains in the sun?”
    Limpy sighed. New ideas always took a while to sink in with Goliath.
    “We'll both be frying our brains in the sun if we stay out here much longer,” said Limpy. “Come on, follow me.”
    He led Goliath across the wheel arch and over the door hinge to the side of the truck. Halfway along was a rip in the aluminum cladding he'd spotted earlier where the truck must have scraped something.
    It was just big enough for Limpy to squeeze through.
    Goliath was another matter, but thanks to the axle grease on his skin, and after a lot of hard work by Limpy, he flopped through too.
    They looked around at the boxes of fluffy toys.
    “This'll be us once I'm a mascot,” said Limpy happily. “Fluffy cane toads, and humans going gaga over us.
    Goliath stared at him again. “Limpy,” he said, “do you know how much competition there is to be aGames mascot? I met a spider under the truck who'd traveled across the country to be one and it didn't even get an audition.”
    Limpy felt his spirits droop.
    “Gee,” he said. “It must have been disappointed.”
    Goliath frowned and thought about this. “Possibly,” he said. “I forgot to ask before I swallowed it.”
    Limpy stared at the fluffy toys, his glands heavy with worry.
    Then he had a thought that made him tingle with relief.
    “Must have been a furry spider,” he said.
    Goliath looked impressed. “Yeah,” he said. “It tickled as it went down. How did you know?”
    “That's why it didn't get the job,” said Limpy happily. “There's already a mascot with fur, and one with feathers, and one with spikes. But not one with warts. Not yet.”
    “Good thought,” said Goliath. He sat pondering for a while, then he broke into a grin. “Here's another good thought,” he said. “When we get down south, let's find some humans and stuff these fluffy toys up the mongrels' exhaust pipes so their cars blow up.”
    Limpy sighed.
    He decided not to ask Goliath if he wanted to be a mascot too.

T he air brakes squealed on and Limpy found himself rolling across the floor in a flock of fluffy echidnas.
    He sat up and listened.
    The truck had stopped moving. It gave a shudder as the engine died.
    “I think we've arrived,” said Limpy.
    “Water,” croaked Goliath. “Slime. Anything.”
    Limpy went over and pulled a handful of fluff out of Goliath's mouth.
    “It doesn't help,” said Limpy, “when you try and eat a brushed-polyester platypus.”
    “I thought it might have some moisture in it,” croaked Goliath.
    Limpy knew how he felt. They'd been in the back of the truck for a whole day without a drop of liquid. Since early morning, all Limpy had been thinking about was a drink. He'd have drunk anything. Whichwhy he was so glad Goliath hadn't done a pee.
    A loud clang echoed through the truck.
    “Arghh!” yelled Goliath. “What's that?”
    “They're opening the doors,” said Limpy. “Quick, before they find us.”
    He pushed Goliath through the hole in the side of the truck and squeezed through himself. As he dropped onto the road, a barrage of sights and sounds hit him.
    Traffic everywhere.
    Humans all over the place.
    The night sky almost as bright as day.
    Limpy huddled with Goliath under the truck and tried to take it all in.
    Stack me, he thought, so this is a city.
    He'd seen pictures of cities on beer cartons, but he had no idea they were so noisy. Or smelly. He could smell car fumes and animals cooking and a hundred other weird aromas. One of them, he thought with a shudder, could easily be the stuff he'd heard humans sprayed on their armpits.
    “This is scary,” Goliath was saying, looking around wide-eyed.
    Limpy knew how he felt. There were roads going in all directions with millions of cars and trucks on them. No wonder cane toads didn't