Читать книгу Future Ratboy and the Quest for the Missing Thingy - Jim Smith - Страница 8

Slap bang in the middle of Shnozville Town Square stood what looked like a statue with a ginormous yellow sheet draped over it. Around it was tied a red ribbon.

Next to it hovered a parcel five times the height of a sock tree, wrapped in pink wrapping paper. Around this one was tied a yellow ribbon.

There were five other statues of Mayor Goodhair dotted round the square that I hadn’t noticed before.

‘You weren’t kidding, Jamjar,’ I said. ‘Mayor Goodhair really does like a statue of himself !’

‘NOT!’ squawked Not Bird, but slightly quieter than usual, probably so Bunny wouldn’t hear.

I looked at the giant presents. A massive crowd had gathered round them and hover-cameras zigzagged through the air, filming for Shnozville News.

‘Good mornkeels and welcome to Shnozville News!’ boomed a wrinkly old man on a huge hover-screen floating above my head. ‘I’m Bill Aardvark and this is my co-host, Cecelia Twizzlefrump!’

The camera panned across to a blonde lady with three noses. ‘We’re live at the scene of Mayor Goodhair’s nine hundred and seventy-twelfth birthday party!’ she yakked, and a photo of Mayor Goodhair popped up behind her on the screen.

I Future-Ratboy-zoomed my eyes in on the photo. Dr Smell was right, Mayor Goodhair had the shiniest, bounciest hair I’d ever seen.

‘You’ve got to love him, haven’t you?’ said Splorg, staring up at the screen. ‘I mean, look at his hair. It’s just so . . . GOOD!’

‘Ooh, he’s the greatest mayor Shnozville has ever had!’ cooed Bunny. ‘I remember when he cut the ribbon at the opening of Bunny Deli. His hair couldn’t have looked better!’

Jamjar did her little cough again. ‘Actually that was Norman who cut the ribbon,’ she said all seriously.

‘Who’s Norman?’ I asked, and Not Bird shouted ‘NOT!’ again.

‘Norman is Mayor Goodhair’s pet pair of hover-scissors!’ said Twoface. ‘You really should know this stuff if you want to be a real superhero like me, Future Ratbums!’

Jamjar ignored Twoface and turned to me. ‘It’s a well-known fact that hover-scissors can’t hold themselves back if there’s something that needs snipping!’ she said.

‘Fascinating,’ yawned Twoface, and Not Bird sniggled.

Not that I had time for that to annoy me, because the Shnozville Town Square clock had just struck seven billion.