Big Bigger was up to something. He was digging a hole in the veggible patch and singing. The nomes were suspicious of cheerfulness in one so normally morose.
“Wossee up to?”
A whisper ran around the garden, and Chigger crept closer for a look.
“He’s planting a tree.”
“A tree?”
“There?”
Brenda went to look for herself. “That ain’t no tree you higgerant nome. It’s. It’s… summat else.”
Big finished his hole and unwrapped the thing. It was wide and hollow and he firmed it in carefully.
The empty box read. ‘Acme rocket launcher – for fireworks.’
The nomes all flinched….
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