image [https://i.ibb.co/FJm8hpW/EP-C06.jpg]

The treasury was pretty dark, although the turquoise moonlight came in through some of the windows providing illumination. The treasury was heaped and crowded with all the riches the president had accumulated during his reign of two or three hundred years. Piles of accordions and meat grinders were on all sides and rare tchotchkes, bric-a-brac, geegaws and the like were strewn about the room in astonishing profusion. There were garbage bags full of used tissues, boxes of old trusses, and a collection of soiled sheets, blankets, and pillows. There were several buckets of iguana testicles and boxes and boxes of hamster bones. A stuffed humpty hump head hung on the wall.

But Soda hadn’t had a chance to take in any of this. She was staring across the room, where out of a pile of ouija board hovered a monstrous animal of most fearful aspect. She knew at a glance it was a terrible rabid shark and the sight of the beast sent a shiver through her. The turquoise shark's wide jaws were armed with rows of long, pointed teeth, foamy foam spilling over their infected gums. Its beady turquoise eyes flashed wickedly at the intruder.

The rabid shark sprang upon her with its enormous jaws stretched wide open. Soda dodged and dived towards a pile of soiled pillows. The shark came at her again and without thinking she picked up a plump, soggy pillow and jammed it into the brute's mouth. The terrible teeth came together and buried themselves in the drenched pillow, and then the fish found he could not pull them out again- because his mouth was stuffed full. He dropped to the floor, rolling around while trying in vain to release himself from the conquering soiled pillow.

Soda began a frantic search for the toilet plunger. Of course she could not find it, as it was not there. She came across a small book, bound in light turquoise leather, which lay upon an exquisitely carved center-table. It was named, in dark turquoise letters stamped on the leather, "The Record Book," and remembering that Zika Zoster longed to possess this book Soda decided to take it with her and shoved it into one of her pockets. Then she renewed her search for the toilet plunger, but it was quite in vain. She hunted in every crack and corner, tumbling the treasures here and there in the quest, but at last she became positive that the thaumaturgic toilet plunger had been removed from the room.

The girl was bitterly disappointed and did not know what to do next. But she noticed that the rabid shark had finally seized an edge of the sofa-pillow in its fins and was struggling to pull the thing out of his mouth; so, there being no object in his remaining longer in the room, where she might have to fight the shark again, Soda went out and locked the door behind her.

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While she stood in the corridor wondering what to do next a sudden shouting reached her ears. It was the voice of the president, crying: "My key- my key! Who has stolen my treasury key?" And then there followed shouts of bodyguards and servants and the rapid pattering of feet was heard throughout the ranch house. Soon Splurgeslap Splungesplat was found outside the president’s daughter’s rooms and related how Soda had taken his place as the guard of the treasury.

Soda ran along the passages until she came to her room, where Chunks and Pucas were anxiously awaiting her.

"Quick!" cried the girl; "we must escape from here at once or I will be caught and spliced. "

"Where's the toilet plunger?" asked Pucas.

"I don't know. I couldn’t find it. But all the house is aroused and the president is furious. It won’t take him long to figure out that his record book is missing and I’m the one who stole it. Come, let's get away at once!"

"Where'll we go?" inquired Pucas.

"We could make for the open country and hide in the flatulence mist bank,” suggested Chunks. “We’d smell like farts but it beats being spliced.”

As quietly as possible they snuck through the mansion up to the gate, where they easily snuck past the sleeping iguanaboy and then ran as swiftly as they could down the muddy street, which was deserted at this hour by the citizens.

They met no one on the streets and continued their flight until at last they came to the tall outer wall, which had a turquoise-iron gate in it. Here was another iguanaboy guard, who had been peacefully slumbering when aroused by the footsteps of the fugitives.

"Halt!" cried the guard, fiercely.

Chunks halted long enough to grab the man around his long neck and twist it into a knot. The man fell to the ground, gasping for air. A moment later they had unfastened the gate and fled into the open country.

The guard had managed to untie his neck was now howling and crying for help. In the country were answering shouts. A hue and cry came from every direction, reaching as far as the ranch house. Turquoise lights began to twinkle everywhere in the streets and Viralvania hummed like a hive filled with angry flying scaterpillars.

Meningioma Island was not a very big place, and soon our friends were very close to the flatulence mist bank, which hung like a brownish-gray cloud directly across the center of the island. They knew they were being followed by bands of the Viralvanians, some galloping on iguanaback, for they could hear the shouts of their pursuers and the cracks of their veiny vine whips growing louder and louder every minute, since their long legs covered the ground more quickly than our friends could possibly go. Had the journey been much farther the fugitives would have been overtaken, but when the leaders of the pursuing Viralvanians were only a few yards behind them they reached the edge of the flatulence mist bank and without hesitation plunged into its thick, pungent mist.

image [https://i.ibb.co/ZNvvdNH/EP-C06-209.jpg]