Читать книгу The Clumsies Make A Mess - Sorrel Anderson, Sorrel Anderson - Страница 5
Bumpy Day
ОглавлениеIt was a Tuesday morning and everything was just as it usually was. As usual, Howard Armitage arrived at his office at a quarter to nine. As usual, he bought a cup of coffee and two sausages from the office canteen. Then, as usual, he set off down the long Corridor… to his room.
Suddenly there was a booming voice behind him.
‘ARMITAGE!’ it said.
It was Mr Bullerton, Howard’s boss.
‘Hello, Mr Bullerton,’ said Howard.
‘Hmph,’ said Mr Bullerton, crossly. ‘I’ve just been in your room, and it’s a mess. As usual.’
‘Oh, I—’ began Howard.
‘Why is it?’ said Mr Bullerton.
‘Well, err—’
‘I won’t have it,’ said Mr Bullerton.
‘No, I—’
‘Tidy it!’ said Mr Bullerton.
He gave Howard’s sausage-box a nasty look and his nostrils, which were large, gave a twitch.
‘What’s in the box?’
‘Sausages,’ said Howard.
‘Sausages?’ spluttered Mr Bullerton. ‘I hope you’re not intending to eat sausages in your office.’
‘Err, I—’
‘No eating at desks!’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘It’s unhygienic!’
‘Yes, Mr Bullerton,’ said Howard.
‘And untidy!’
‘Yes, Mr Bullerton,’ said Howard.
‘Desks are for working on, not eating off. Any eating to be done will be done in the canteen and in the canteen only.
said Mr Bullerton. ‘Well, go on then.’
Howard went back to the canteen, waited until Mr Bullerton had gone, and then took his breakfast to his room, just as he always did. He was about to take a large bite of sausage when there was a rustling noise.
‘That’s unusual,’ said Howard, and the noise stopped. Then it started again, loudly.
There was something under the desk, and it was moving…
Howard sprang upwards and backwards and peered underneath. There was a bag, and it was twitching. He prodded it and something small and round SHOT out.
‘Squeeep!’ it said.
‘Tut,’ said Howard. ‘A mouse.’
The mouse hurtled off into the corner and Howard sat back down. He was about to take a large bite of sausage when there was another rustling noise.
‘Now look,’ said Howard. ‘I’ve had just about enough of this.’ He kicked the bag and another mouse popped out, smaller and rounder than the first. It started to trundle away, glancing nervously at Howard over its shoulder.
‘You may well glance at me nervously,’ said Howard, picking up an empty water glass and placing it over the mouse. ‘You’ll stay in there so I can eat my breakfast in peace. I shall deal with you afterwards.’
It was the first mouse, back again.
‘Let him out!’ squealed the mouse, pummelling.
Howard choked on his coffee, and the mouse stopped pummelling.
‘Please, I mean. Please let him out, Howard Armitage,’ said the mouse.
Howard made a gargling noise, and the mouse giggled.
‘Here, you’ve got coffee all down your chin,’ he said, passing Howard a small tissue.
‘So would you, if you’d been sprung at all over the place and pummelled,’ said Howard, mopping.
‘Sorry,’ said the mouse. ‘It was the biscuits.’
‘What was the biscuits?’ said Howard.
‘They were in that bag,’ said the mouse, ‘and we, err, borrowed some, and fell asleep. If I get you some more, will you let my brother go?’
‘I don’t want biscuits’ said Howard. ‘I want sausages.‘
‘I’ll get you some sausages then,’ offered the mouse.
‘I’ve already got sausages,’ said Howard. ‘All I need now is a bit of calm in which to eat them. Is that too much to ask?’
‘Not at all,’ said the mouse.
‘Well, quite,’ said Howard.
Sighing, Howard lifted the water glass and the smaller, rounder mouse scuttled out, looking a bit hot and very relieved.
‘Thank you,’ said the first mouse. ‘We’ll be off then,’ and he started bundling his brother away.
‘One second,’ said Howard. ‘How do you know my name’s Howard Armitage?’
‘There’s a sign on your door that says:
“Howard Armitage”, said the mouse, ‘so I assumed.’
‘Did you now?’ said Howard, narrowing his eyes.
‘Isn’t it then?’ asked the mouse, sounding confused.
‘As a matter of fact it is,’ said Howard. ‘I think you’d better tell me who you are.’
‘He’s Mickey Thompson,’ said the mouse, poking his, brother’s tummy.
‘I can tell him,’ said Mickey Thompson, wriggling, and poking his brother back.
‘I’m Mickey Thompson,’ announced Mickey Thompson, to Howard.
‘Pleased to meet you, Mickey Thompson,’ said Howard.
‘And I’m Purvis,’ said the first mouse, thumping himself on the chest.
‘Purvis what?’ said Howard.
‘Purvis what?’ said Purvis.
‘Or what Purvis?’ said Howard.
‘That Purvis,’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘There’s only one, and he’s him.’ Mickey Thompson prodded Purvis in the ribs, and there was a small scuffle.
Howard’s head was beginning to throb. ‘That’s enough, you two,’ said Howard. ‘When you’re in my office you’ll behave, or I shall put you under that glass again.’
Purvis and Mickey Thompson behaved.
‘That’s better,’ said Howard. He went over to a side table and clattered about, putting the kettle on … and finding two extra mugs.
‘Tea?’
‘Yes please,’ said Purvis.
‘Have you got any juice?’ asked Mickey Thompson.
‘No,’ said Howard. ‘It’s tea or cold coffee.’
‘Tea please,’ said Mickey Thompson, pulling a face. ‘Have you got any more
‘Don’t push your luck,’ said Howard.
While Howard made the tea the mice climbed up on to his desk and had a look around.
‘Absolutely not,’ said Howard. ‘Leave everything exactly as it is.’ There was a loud crash as Mickey Thompson
Howard rushed over.
‘Oops!’ said Mickey Thompson, happily.
‘Sorry!’ said Purvis, hauling him out.
‘Will you be careful,’ said Howard. ‘I’m fond of that plant.’
‘Yes, it’s lovely,’ said Purvis, trying to jam a flower back on its stalk.
‘Could I have a piece of that sausage, do you think?’ asked Mickey Thompson, eyeing it.
‘Oh, go on then,’ sighed Howard. ‘Help yourself.’
So Mickey Thompson tucked into Howard’s breakfast while Purvis swept pieces of plant on to the floor, and Howard fetched the mugs of tea.
‘Right,’ said Howard. ‘You’d better tell me why you’re here.’
‘We live here,’ explained Purvis.
Howard closed his eyes and made a groaning noise.
‘Why are you groaning?’ asked Mickey Thompson, cheerfully.
‘Where’s “here”?’ said Howard.
‘Err, here in this building,’ said Purvis.
‘Where in this building?’ pressed Howard.
‘Under your desk,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Because,’ Purvis continued quickly, ‘we thought it seemed like a very nice place.’ ‘Biscuits!’ said Mickey Thompson, helpfully.
‘And you seem like a very nice man,’ said Purvis, hopefully.
‘H’rumph,’ said Howard Armitage.
‘And there isn’t really anywhere else we can go,’ said Purvis, studying his tea.
Howard sighed. ‘Oh, yes, all right then,’ he said. ‘You can stay.’
Hurray!’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘Can I have some more sausage?’
‘If you must,’ said Howard, getting up. ‘Right. I’ve got to go to a meeting. Don’t touch anything on that desk while I’m away.’
‘How about under it?’ asked Purvis.
‘Fine,’ said Howard.
So Howard went off to his meeting and the two mice started rimmaging underneath the desk.
By the time Howard got back there was a large pile of clutter in the middle of the room. Propped against it was a LONG cardboard tube, which the mice were busy using in a game.
‘Look, Howard!’ called Mickey Thompson, sliding down the tube and landing at Howard’s feet.
‘I can see!’ said Howard.
‘Are there any more cardboard tubes?’ asked Purvis, puffing slightly.
‘I expect so,’ said Howard.
‘Why?’
‘If we could make the course bigger, we could win more points,’ said Purvis.
‘I’ll see what I can find,’ said Howard. ‘How do you win the points, anyway?’
Purvis took a deep breath. ‘You have to go round, over and through; through, round and over; over round and through; over, through and round; round, through and over; through, over and round, in the right order; then you do it all again in a different right order and after that it gets difficult to explain.’
Howard shuddered.
‘Well, we’ve started now,’ said Purvis, ‘so we might as well get to the end!’
‘If you say so,’ said Howard.
He left them to it and went to fetch the cardboard tubes from the storeroom, which was down a corridor, along a corridor, and up a flight of stairs. But when he arrived, the door wouldn’t open.
‘That’s funny,’ muttered Howard, rattling the handle. He put his shoulder against the door and shoved.
It crashed open and Howard tipped in, tripped over, and landed flat on the floor. There was a TOOTING noise.
‘Was that me?’ wondered Howard. The tooting happened again, louder and nearer.
‘That wasn’t me,’ said Howard. He got up, carefully.
‘TRUMPET!!!” went the noise, very loud and extremely near.
Howard jumped and bumped his head. Then something tapped him on the bottom. It was an elephant. ‘Concussion? This. Is it?’ said Howard, staggering. He shut his eyes, counted to five and opened them again, but the elephant was still there. It was a remarkably small one, about the size of a Labrador puppy. It looked eager, and slightly apologetic.
‘Err, hello,’ said Howard. The elephant gazed at him, and said nothing.
‘Hmm,’ said Howard. He scooped up some cardboard tubes and went towards the door.
‘Well, goodbye then.’
‘TOOT! TRUMPET! TOOOT!’ went the elephant, and ran after him.
‘Oh dear,’ sighed Howard. ‘Yes. All right.’
The stairs to the storeroom were narrow and steep.
They stood at the top and looked down. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ said Howard. ‘I’ll go in front and you follow me.’
Howard started down the stairs and the elephant stayed where she was.
‘Come on now,’ said Howard, encouragingly.
The elephant didn’t move.
‘Come along,’ said Howard, coaxingly.
The elephant backed away.
‘Come!’ ordered Howard, exasperatedly. The elephant gave a panicked TRUMPET, did a little run backwards and forwards and launched herself off the top stair on to Howard’s chest.
‘Ooof,’ said Howard, and together they bumped painfully down the stairs, and bumped, even more painfully, on to the floor at the bottom.
When Howard and the elephant got back, Purvis and Mickey Thompson bounced over, squeaking excitedly:
‘It’s an elephant! It’s an elephant!’
‘Less of it,’ said Howard.
‘Why are you all hot in the face, Howard?’ asked Mickey Thompson.
‘Mickey Thompson,’ said Howard, breathing heavily. ‘So far today I’ve bashed my shoulder, hit my head, had my bottom prodded and my stomach squashed. I’ve been bumped downstairs and bumped, hard, on to the floor. There’s a pair of talking mice living under my desk and now there’s an elephant too. That’s why I’m hot in the face. Now, somebody put the kettle on while I think what to do.’
‘She’s only a baby,’ said Purvis.
‘We must look after her.’
‘Very probably,’ said Howard, ‘but I don’t know what she’ll eat.’
‘Buns,’said Mickey Thompson, quickly.
‘No, that’s what you eat,’ said Purvis.
‘Elephants like buns. I read it,’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘In a storybook,’ said Purvis.
Mickey Thompson blew a raspberry at Purvis and there was a small scuffle.
‘Stop,’ said Howard. ‘You’re jangling my bruises.’
‘I think we should look it up,’ said Purvis. So they looked it up.
‘Elephants eat grass, small branches and bark from trees,’ read out Purvis.
‘Yuk!’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘Fabulous’ said Howard.
‘They especially like leaves from the top branches,’ he continued.
‘Take a look around,’ said Howard. ‘How many branches do you see in here, top or otherwise?’
‘Hang on,’ said Purvis. ‘It also says they like fruit, vegetables and seeds.’ The elephant TRUMPETED in agreement.
‘That’s more like it,’ said Howard. ‘I’ll go to the canteen.’
So he went, and came back carrying: