Mr Gum and the Secret Hideout. Andy Stanton

      

       For Leah Thaxton, Katie Bennett and the amazing David Tazzyman

      Mr Gum and the Secret Hideout First published 2010 by Egmont UK Limited This edition published 2019 by Egmont UK Limited, The Yellow Building,1 Nicholas Road London W11 4AN

      Text copyright © 2010 Andy Stanton

      Illustration copyright © 2010 David Tazzyman

      The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted

      First e-book edition 2019

      ISBN 978 1 4052 9376 1

       eISBN 978 1 4052 5934 7

      mrgum.co.uk www.egmont.co.uk

      A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library Printed and bound in Great Britain by the CPI Group

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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       Read all of Andy Stanton’s books!

       You’re a Bad Man, MR GUM!

       MR GUM and the Biscuit Billionaire

       MR GUM and the Goblins

       MR GUM and the Power Crystals

       MR GUM and the Dancing Bear

       What’s for Dinner, MR GUM?

       MR GUM and the Cherry Tree

       MR GUM and the Secret Hideout

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Dedication

       Copyright

       Front series promotional page

      1 The Secret Hideout

      2 The Department of Clouds and Yogurts

3 The Badsters Yick it Up

       4 ’Vestigations and Birdseed

       5 Down by the Riverside

       6 The Midnight Meating

       7 Prisoners!

       8 Ship’s Biscuit

       9 The Captain and Elizabeth

       10 Old Granny on the Hoof

       11 Mr Gum Gets a Surprise

       12 Clouds of Sorrow, Clouds of Joy

       EPILOGUE

       THE END

       About the Illustrator

       About the Author

       PRAISE FOR Mr Gum

       Some of the crazy old townsfolk from Lamonic Bibber

       Chapter 1 The Secret Hideout

      Mr Gum was a fierce old blister with a face as angry as a thousand walnuts and a big red beard which smelt of menace and beer. He hated children, animals, fun, comics, pop music, birthday parties, books, Christmas, the seaside, computer games, people called ‘Colin’, Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fri– Actually, it would probably be quicker to tell you what he liked instead. What he liked was snoozing in bed all day, being a horror and secret hideouts. And the secret hideout he was in right now was the best secret hideout he’d ever seen.

      ‘This secret hideout’s flippin’ brilliant!’ shouted Mr Gum as he paced up and down in his hobnail boots. ‘It’s got everythin’! Rats! Cockroaches! Pipes what keep drippin’ slime everywhere! An’ it stinks! It’s like what I always imagined Heaven would be! An’ best of all, no one’s ever gonna find us here!’

      ‘Yeah,’ agreed Mr Gum’s dreadful accomplice, a scrawny butcher by the name of Billy William the Third. Billy was standing by a great iron furnace, shovelling old bits of meat on to the flames. And not just any old old bits of meat, but the stalest, grubbiest, most appalling specimens imaginable. Strings of ancient entrails, withered old horse legs, rubbery turkey necks …

      On they all went, on to the flames. Billy was covered in soot and he was dripping with gobs of hot fat, but he hardly noticed. And why? I don’t know, I’m not him. He just didn’t.

      ‘Faster!’ commanded Mr Gum, hopping from one foot to the other like an unstoppable quail. ‘Shovel them entrails, Billy me boy! Chuck it on, chuck it on! An’ stoke it all up with coal or I’ll bash ya!’

      ‘Right you are, Gummy me old rattler!’ laughed Billy, chucking on a piece of coal that was twice the size of a piece of coal that was half the size of the piece of coal I’m talking about.

      ROAR! bellowed the furnace. A great long lick of flame flicked out and singed off Billy’s eyebrows, cruel as a scarlet donkey.

      ‘Ha ha ha!’ cackled Billy, who loved to see people getting hurt. ‘Someone jus’ got their eyebrows burned off!’ Then he realised who that someone was, and he let out a bloodcurdling howl.

      ‘OOW!’ yelled Billy, hopping up and down in agony. ‘How come I gotta do all the shovellin’ ‘round here anyway? How come you ain’t doin’ none?’

      ‘Shut up!’ roared Mr Gum, whacking Billy over the head with a silk handkerchief. He didn’t have a silk handkerchief, so he used a cricket bat instead. ‘We gotta keep gettin’ that power up! We can’t afford to rest for a moment. Now, you carry on shovellin’. I gotta rest for a moment.’

      Mr