Toad Away - Morris Gleitzman [42]
“Jeez,” said the frog, rolling his eyes. “Wake up and smell the coffee. Unless you want to be an extra for the rest of your life. We get a meal break every two hours. It's in the contract.”
“Contract?” said Limpy.
“That wad of paper your agent looks after for you,” said the frog, shaking his head. “The one you did a mud-print on to be in this movie. The one with Armageddon 4—Rise of the Toads on the front.”
Limpy digested this.
A movie. He'd seen movies on the big outdoor screen at the campsite back home. But never with cane toads in them.
“Hey, Limpy,” called Goliath.
For a moment Limpy couldn't see him.
“He's over there,” said Charm, pointing.
Limpy saw that the human who'd been holding Goliath was sitting in a canvas chair surrounded by other humans. They were dabbing his face and hair with little brushes. Goliath was sitting on his knee, being dabbed with little brushes too.
“This bloke here's the star of the movie,” said Goliath, grinning. “I think he's gunna make me a star too.”
“No chance,” muttered the frog. “We toads never get top billing. We're just props. This movie was gunna be Armageddon 4—Rise of the Worms until the producer got the idea of using toads. Apparently he saw a movie with a scary toad in it on a flight back from Australia.”
Limpy remembered Goliath's shadow on the aircraft movie screen.
He decided it was best not to say anything.
“I like Hollywood,” said Goliath as a human dabbed makeup onto his warts. “Can we stay here and be in lots of war movies?”
Limpy and Charm looked at each other.
“No,” said Charm. “Absolutely not.”
“By my calculation,” said Limpy, “full moon at home is in six days. If we're not back by then, a real war will break out, remember?”
Goliath's shoulders slumped.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I forgot.”
The stretch limo pulled up at the airport and Goliath hopped out onto the red carpet.
Limpy and Charm hurried after him.
Cameras flashed and a crowd of humans with microphones and notepads craned forward for a closer look.
“No interviews,” said Goliath, turning his best warts to the cameras. “Just autographs if you've got some mud.”
Limpy thought about strangling Goliath. He decided not to because he didn't want Mum and Dad seeing a picture of it in the paper.
“Goliath,” hissed Charm. “Behave yourself. This isn't for you. It's for him.”
She pointed up at the star of the movie, who was stepping out of the limo and smiling at the cameras.
“It's for us too,” said Goliath sulkily. “We're stars too.”
“No, we're not,” said Limpy. “We're here to create a photo operation.”
The smooth-skinned frog, who'd followed them out of the limo, rolled his eyes. “Photo opportunity,” he said wearily as the star picked him up. “The word is photo opportunity. A B-grade movie actor flying back to his ranch isn't news, so they've brought us along to beef up the publicity angle.”
“That's right,” said Limpy to Goliath, even though he hadn't understood everything the frog had just said. “And it's great for us because this is the airport where we can get a plane back to Australia.”
“I think we should sneak away now,” said Charm.“While the humans are taking photos of the star holding the frog.”
“Hang on,” said Goliath. “I think they want me in the photo with them.”
“No, we don't,” said the frog. “Trust me, honey.”
Before Goliath could argue, Limpy and Charm dragged him under a soft-drink machine.
Limpy peeped out at the crowd. Nobody had seen them go.
“Hey, beautiful!” yelled a voice. “I love you! You're a star!”
Almost nobody.
Limpy saw where the voice was coming from. A familiar figure was in the crowd, jumping up between human feet, waving at Charm.
A dust mite.
“Oh, no,” muttered Charm. “It's Myron.”
“Thank you,” said Goliath, blushing and waving back to Myron. “You're too kind.”
Once they were on the plane to Australia, and safely strapped under three empty seats next to the rolled-up plastic things, and the plane had taken off, Limpy was finally able to relax.
And get depressed.
During the past few days he'd been so busy worrying