‘GETT THEM!’ commanded Captain Ankles and at this the goblins advanced, eyes wide and claws glinting wickedly.

‘The poor rabbit!’ cried Polly. ‘This isn’t no place for you, little one,’ she said, scooping it up in her arms and carrying it to a safe place underneath a bush. You see, that was just the sort of girl Polly was – she always looked out for people smaller than herself, especially if they were rabbits.

‘Right,’ said Friday. ‘Now leave the rest to me!’ And he reached for his broadsword, the legendary Lord Champion. It was made from the strongest steel known to man and it shone like a Flaming Star of Justice and nothing could defeat it in battle and it was lying on Friday’s sofa in his secret cottage next to an empty yogurt pot.

‘Brummigans!’ cursed Friday. ‘Forgot the broadsword.’