Amelia Fang and the Lost Yeti Treasures. Laura Ellen Anderson
‘Happy Birthnight, Clemence!’ said Amelia, giving a little curtsey. Grimaldi waved nervously.
‘OOH!’ Grand-yeti Clemence gasped. She seemed very excited about Squashy, who was bouncing around Amelia’s ankles. ‘IS THAT A PUMPKIN?’
‘This is my pet pumpkin, Squashy,’ said Amelia. ‘Would you like to hold him?’
Clemence gasped. ‘OH, YES PLEASE!’
‘WELL, I’M GONNA GO PRANCE WHILST YOU GUYS TALK ALL FINGS PUMPKIN!’ said Florence, before grabbing Tangine’s hand. ‘AND YOU’RE GONNA BE MY PRANCE PARTNER.’
‘Wait, I must stretch my fabulous limbs first . . .’ Tangine proclaimed, but he barely had a chance to finish his sentence because Florence was already dragging him on to the dance floor.
Amelia scooped Squashy up and handed him over to Grand-yeti Clemence. The old yeti giggled and hugged Squashy. ‘OH, YOU ARE ADORABLE! I LOVE PUMPKINS!’
‘So do I!’ said Amelia happily. ‘I love them so much I’ve joined a new pumpkin club called the Pumpkineers. It’s so much fun – we learn loads of pumpkin facts and I’ve met lots of other creatures who love pumpkins ALMOST as much me.’
‘Nobody could love pumpkins as much as you, Amelia,’ said Grimaldi with a grin. ‘Don’t you have a big pumpkin patch party coming up soon?’
‘It’s tomorrow actually,’ said Amelia. ‘I keep forgetting to tell Florence that I won’t be able to stay here for the whole weekend. I’d already said yes to Clemence’s birthday party before I got my invitation to the pumpkin patch party. But I figured I could do both. One night for each!’
‘Wow, two parties in one weekend!’ said Grimaldi. ‘You’re one wild vampire!’
The two friends giggled.
‘I’d better go and tell Florence now before I forget again,’ said Amelia.
‘TELL ME WHAT?’ said Florence, making Amelia jump. She had pranced back over without so much as a sound.
‘Oh, hi Florence!’ Amelia stammered. ‘I actually meant to tell you sooner, but I thought I might be able to party here for a bit and then go to the —’
But she was interrupted by a yeti shouting ‘PREEEEEEEESENTS!’ at the top of their voice.
‘WOOHOOOOOOO!’ shrieked Grand-yeti Clemence, as a startled Squashy jumped out of her arms and back into Amelia’s. ‘COME ON KIDS. ’ELP ME OPEN MY PILE OF TREATS!’ Then she was ushered by the excitable yetis over to a huge stack of gifts.
After unwrapping a scream-tea maker, a snot-collector and at least three toenail hats, Florence gave Grand-yeti Clemence her birthday gift.
‘I FINK YOU’LL LIKE THIS, GRAND-YETI,’ said Florence, handing over a small box she’d wrapped in spotty paper.
Clemence smiled and carefully unwrapped her present. When she opened the glittery box and saw the necklace inside, she gasped, putting a paw to her mouth.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Tangine, marching forward to admire the gem. ‘That’s a pure Glitteropolis Garnet! I’ve never seen one up close before. It’s so beautiful!’
‘IT’S . . . IT’S . . .’ stammered Grand-yeti Clemence before throwing her arms around Florence in delight. ‘OH, FLO FLO!’
‘DOES THIS MEAN YOU LIKE IT?’ Florence asked earnestly.
Grand-yeti Clemence held the necklace up to the candlelight so that the glittery gem made the whole room sparkle. ‘I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT, FLO FLO,’ she said, staring at the jewel in awe. ‘THIS MUST’VE BEEN SO EXPENSIVE. I ’OPE YOU DIDN’T SPEND ALL YOUR MOON COINS ON ME?!’
Florence shrugged. ‘I’LL SAVE ’EM UP AGAIN,’ she said. ‘YOU ONLY TURN FREE ’UNDRED AND FIFTY ONCE, EH!’
Clemence put the necklace on and twirled around. ‘DON’T I LOOK RAVISHING?!’ she said happily. ‘I FINK THIS CALLS FOR SOME VINTAGE SUPER-BELCH.’ The old yeti handed out cups of the bubbling green liquid to Amelia and her friends.
Amelia took a sip and immediately began to float a few inches off the ground. ‘Wow! This is some strong belch!’ she said before burping loudly and gently landing back on the ground.
Florence took a sip and did a floaty somersault in the air. ‘THIS IS THE BEST BELCH I’VE EVVA TASTED!’
Grimaldi drank his whole cup and ended up stuck on the ceiling, looking a little worse for wear.
‘Wow!’ he said through wide eyes. ‘What’s IN that belch?’
‘MY FATHER, TERRENCE SPUDWICK, MADE IT AGES AGO WHEN ’E USED TO LIVE IN THESE PITS TOO. THIS ’ERE IS THE FINEST, MOST BELCHIEST SUPER-BELCH YOU’LL EVVA DRINK,’ chuckled Clemence.
‘I’ll say!’ said Amelia, gazing up at Grimaldi.
‘SADLY, THESE ARE THE ONLY BOTTLES LEFT,’ said Clemence, pointing to the small stash on the table.
‘CAN’T YOU MAKE MORE?’ said Florence.
‘IT’S A TOP SECRET RECIPE. ME DAD DIDN’T TELL ANYONE – NOT EVEN ME!’ said Clemence. ‘SO, WHEN ’E PASSED, THE RECIPE WENT WIV ’IM. THE CHEEKY WOTSIT.’
‘Well, that makes it EXTRA special!’ said Amelia before taking another sip and feeling herself rise upwards, bottom-first.
‘EXACTLY!’ said Clemence, then she turned to Tangine. ‘I BELIEVE YOU’RE STAYING IN TERRENCE’S OLD ROOM! NOW THAT’S AN HONOUR,’ she said.
‘Ah! I wondered who the old yeti in all the pictures was!’ said Tangine. ‘Well, he can sure make a great brew!’ He raised his cup of belch with a grin.
‘I DO MISS ’IM LOADS!’ said Clemence. ‘BUT AT LEAST ’E LIVES ON THROUGH ’IS SUPER-BELCH, AND WHAT BETTER WAY TO APPRECIATE IT THAN WIV FAMILY AND FRIENDS, EH?’ She gulped her cup of super-belch down in one and float-cartwheeled into the centre of the room. ‘COME ON KIDS, LET’S DO SOME FLOATY PRANCING!’’
By midnight, the birthnight celebrations were in full swing. There were entertainers from all over the kingdoms, including a leprechaun jig teacher called Mr McMarvellous, a toad top-hat maker called Sir Ribbit and a famous uni-angel-bunny artist, Clifford Harris.
‘YOU WON’T FIND ANYONE IN ALL THE KINGDOMS AS GOOD AT PAINTING YETIS AS CLIFFORD,’ said Florence’s dad. ‘E’S WELL KNOWN FOR ’IS BRILLIANT USE OF GLITTER PAINTS. CLEMENCE WAS SO ’APPY WE COULD BOOK ’IM IN!’
‘I use only the finest glitter paints mixed with the freshest fire tears of the most majestic Flamingo-dragons,’ pronounced Clifford. He stroked his glittery beard in deep thought, then prepared a new blank canvas. ‘Who is my first subject?’ he asked.
Tangine, who had been stuffing his face with pickled eyeballs, shouted, ‘ME!’ He marched across the room, spreading himself out on the chaise-longue in front of Clifford’s easel, before placing a hand on his forehead.
‘Draw me like one of your yetis,’ he said airily.
Whilst