Читать книгу Barry Loser and the Holiday of Doom - Jim Smith - Страница 9

‘Mornkeels!’ I said, grinning at them. I was so excited to tell them they were coming to Plonkton, I wasn’t even annoyed that they’d walked to school together instead of with me.

‘Hi Barry,’ said Bunky, smiling at Nancy, who was wearing a scratch-and-sniff sticker of a mushroom doing a thumbs up she’d got for being the best at spelling.

I looked at my half-dog, half-bestfriend and wrinkled my forehead. There was something about him that didn’t make sense.

I Future-Ratboy-zoomed my eyes in and tried to work out what it was. His trainers looked normal, all scuffed up and stinking of foot cheese like they always did.

His legs were just his boring old legs, standing there with the rest of him balancing on top of them.

And his nose, ears, eyes and mouth were dotted around on his head in pretty much the right places.

‘What else is there?’ I mumbled, scratching my head with my fingers, which were on the end of my hand, which was on the end of my arm.

And that’s when it hit me.

Bunky was holding a BOOK.