Blast Off!, page 1
To Mrs Wood and the children of Upton St
Leonards C of E Primary School. Keep enjoying
your stories! – T. C.
For Olive x – T. N.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Introduction
Blast Off!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Winner, Winner!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
The Coggles
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
The Story Shop Quiz
About the Author
About the Illustrator
Coming Soon…
Copyright
Welcome to Puddletown High Street!
Looks completely normal, doesn’t it?
Normal bakers selling normal bread. Normal shoe shop selling normal wellies. Normal toyshop selling normal bats and balls.
But nestled between the hairdresser’s and the hardware store (which sells entirely normal brooms) is the most unusual shop:
The Story Shop sells adventures you can BE in. With real characters you’ll actually meet!
Shopkeeper Wilbur and his assistant Fred Ferret have props and plots galore.
So, what are you waiting for? Step inside if you’re BRAVE enough.
But be warned, anything might happen…
“Wilbur!” cried Fred excitedly. “Are you ready to play Guess Who?”
Fred Ferret loved their daily game before opening time.
His fluffy little head disappeared into the props barrel as he flung out the things he didn’t want. A wooden knight’s sword, some floppy elephant ears. Even a squawking cuckoo clock flew past Wilbur’s freshly polished counter.
Wilbur ducked. “My hat,” he yelped. “You nearly knocked the feather clean off!”
“Sorry, Wilbur.” Fred’s head reappeared from the barrel complete with cowboy hat. “Guess who?”
Wilbur looked up from dusting the till. “Um, Cowboy Jim from the burpy donkey story?”
“Burpy?” giggled Fred. “No, here’s another clue!”
He peered around their cosy shop with its neat round window and worn wooden floor. Rails of costumes lined the walls alongside shelves crammed with jars of letters. Tucked between the jars were dozens of blank books waiting to be filled with stories.
Behind the counter stood a set of drawers full of story settings and characters. A Jungle drawer teemed with creepy crawlies, while the Ocean one brimmed with bright fish and the Space drawer fizzed with aliens and black holes.
To the side of the counter sat a chest of smaller props. Fred opened the lid and pulled out a bright red bandana. He tied it around his neck, grabbed a clinking money bag, then unhooked a hobby horse from a tall wooden stand.
“Oh, I know!” called Wilbur. “Wild Will Ferret, the meanest outlaw in town?”
“You got it!” laughed Fred, tossing him the money bag. “Well done!”
Fred trotted after Wilbur as he opened the shop door and set the chalkboard outside on the sunny pavement.
“Ahhh,” Wilbur smiled. “The perfect day for an adventure!”
“Sure is,” replied Fred. “And we’re ready and waiting.”
Back inside, costumes tidied away and props back in the barrel, they’d just started oiling Sir Squeakalot the knight when ting! ting! went the brass bell above the door.
“First customer!” cheered Fred. “But who will it be? A grouchy granny? A bonkers bear? A crusty old—” He stopped as a small mouse marched through the door. “Oh.”
“Oh?” scowled the mouse. “Oh! Really? Is OH all you can say?”
“I’m s-so sorry,” began Fred. “I—”
“Typical!” Mouse tutted. “Disappointed I’m not a bear. Well, let me tell you, I’m as brave as one. And don’t get me started on skilled. Why, I can balance a chair … on my chin … while tightrope walking … across a swamp! AND fit seventy-three marshmallows in my cheeks all at once.”
Fred and Wilbur exchanged glances. What a boasty little fellow!
“So, sir, what can we do for you?” asked Wilbur.
“Isn’t that obvious?” replied the mouse. “I want an adventure. A story adventure. Isn’t that what your shop sells?”
Suddenly two drawers behind the counter wriggled open. Any mention of a new story and the characters inside were all ears!
Mouse’s eyes widened as an octopus’s tentacle flopped out of one and a snake slithered out of the other. Fred dashed to pop them away.
“Keen beans, Olivia and Stanley!” grinned Wilbur. “Though not right for your story, Mouse.” Wilbur prided himself on finding the right story for every customer.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Making a quick list, Wilbur wandered around the shop gathering bits Mouse could ‘try for size’…
“Perhaps a brush with a brontosaurus?” pondered Wilbur.
“Or a thrilling whodunnit?”
“Or a fairy tale!”
“No, no!” Mouse dumped the curls at once. “I want something awesome– amazing – incredible. Something out of this world.”
“Out of this world…” Wilbur twiddled his moustache. “Of course!”
He grabbed two shiny silver costumes off a rail, handed one to Fred and swept Mouse into the changing room. When he came back out…
“I’m a Space Mouse!” he cried.
“And I’m a Space Ferret,” Fred exclaimed, popping up from behind the counter.
Mouse glowered. “Wait – you’re coming? I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Fred always goes with the customer,” said Wilbur. “On every adventure…”
No sooner had he said the word ‘adventure’ than a blank book on the shelf gave a little jiggle as if itching to get the story started.
“Right then!” Wilbur whisked the feather from his hat and waved it over a patch of bare floorboards. They parted with a swish! and up rose a large cooking pot full to the brim with a shimmering inky-blue liquid. Hooked over the rim was a big silver spoon.
“This is the Story Pot,” Wilbur told Mouse as Fred fished out an alien from the Space drawer. He was small and green and clutching a jar filled with a gooey yellow liquid. He dived into the pot with a snorty little giggle.
Next they added the jiggling book and a sprinkle of letters from a jar.
“Letters?” shrugged Mouse.
“All stories need words…” said Fred.
Wilbur spooned in an assortment of story props – twinkling stars, dice, screwdrivers and lots of stinky cheese. Then he handed Fred three objects to put in his backpack.
“Emergency items,” Fred told Mouse. “To get us out of tricky situations.”
“Biscuits?” Mouse frowned. “A toy shield? Party poppers! No lasers? No moon buggies? No—”
“Just stir it,” Wilbur said with a wink. “And remember, Mouse, your story is what you make it.”
“Yeah, yeah!” As Mouse started to stir, Wilbur passed Fred a small toy rocket, which he slipped into his pocket.
“All set then!” Fred cried, holding the spoon too, and…
an inky jet of bubbles flew from the pot. They splashed off shelves, ricocheted off costumes and plipped and plopped off props.
Then suddenly…
the bubbles vanished.
And Mouse and Fred were gone.
“What on EARTH…?” cried Mouse.
“Not Earth,” grinned Fred. “Stars and craters! Look – we’re on the Moon.”
“Of course, I knew that,” muttered Mouse, “as I’m BRILLIANT at spotting things.”
“Like those houses?” Fred pointed.
“Eh?” Mouse looked. They were yellow and wedge-shaped, with holes.
“Poo! They don’t half pong,” said Fred.
“I like it,” replied Mouse, his nose twitching. “And if I’m not mistaken…” He marched towards one.
“Don’t touch anything!” Fred warned. “Not until we’ve sussed the place out.”
“My adventure, my rules – Wilbur said so!” called Mouse.
He stopped at a house, sniffed again, then took a big bite out of a windowsill.
“Mmmm, cheese,” said Mouse, licking his whiskers. “Just as I suspected as I’m BRILLIANT at—”
An alarm shrieked out and a gooey yellow liquid exploded from a nearby crater. Fred dived for cover behind a neat cheese hedge but Mouse was too slow.
“Slime,” he tutted, shaking off the splatters as he ducked down beside Fred. “Honestly! What NINNIES would booby-trap their houses?”
“Shh…” Fred nudged him.
“Don’t nudge me, this is my—”
“Shh – look!”
A swarm of small, green one-eyed aliens were racing from their houses towards them. They looked like peas, and each had one eye on a stalk, like a periscope. Fred saw the giggly alien who had dived into the Story Pot, except he wasn’t smiling now. He was glowering and muttering crossly, “Nibble-nibble!”
“What’s the matter?” huffed Mouse as the aliens circled them. “I only had a teeny nibble!”
Suddenly a WHOOSHING sound above made them all look up. A bubble-shaped pod was flying in through the darkness, a whirring propeller at its base. Through its gleaming domed window Fred and Mouse saw a much BIGGER alien…
He had a triangular-shaped body covered in mouldy blue patc
Fred also counted two pairs of arms. One pair were small and inside the pod. The other pair dangled outside and were super long – with pincers.
At once, the little aliens all bowed their one eye and bobbed wobbly curtsies. “This must be their leader,” said Fred.
“I knew that!” muttered Mouse.
As the pod came in to land, two skinny legs with chicken feet zooped out of its base. The moment they touched the ground, the leader marched straight over to Mouse.
“How DARE you eat our houses – again!” he roared in a weird tinny voice.
“Well – how DARE you ROAR at ME!” roared Mouse. “That’s rude!”
The little aliens gasped at Mouse’s cheek. Their leader looked fit to
Fred quickly stepped in front of Mouse. “Pleased to meet you, Mr … um … Alien,” he said. “I’m Fred, and you are?”
“Gordon!” snapped the leader. “Gordon Zola.”
“I knew it!” cried Mouse. “Like Gorgonzola – that stinky cheese!”
The leader glowered at Mouse. “Last time you ate a whole front door, and now you return to eat a windowsill! We thought you’d LEARNED YOUR LESSON – but clearly your punishment wasn’t hard enough. You—”
“Hang on,” chipped in Fred. “He’s been here before?”
“Affirmative!” Gordon Zola nodded. “The Big Cheese invaded us last month.”
He eyed Mouse closely. “Or is it HE? For this one’s ears look somewhat smaller…?”
“How DARE you!” cried Mouse. “My ears are enormous and I’m totally the Big Cheese, thank you!”
Fred pulled him aside. “Why did you say that? You’ll get us into big troub—“
“Stop spoiling my story,” hissed Mouse. “I choose what happens and this Big Cheese guy sounds AWESOME.”
Mouse turned back to Gordon Zola.
“Right! I AM the Big Cheese. So, what are you going to do about it?”
“One more nibble and you will be ERASED,” cried the leader. And from one of his pincers zooped a pencil with a rubber on.
“Erased? O-outrageous!” spluttered Mouse. “You can’t rub me out of my OWN story!”
“We’ll see about that,” Gordon Zola replied. “But first it’s time to teach you another lesson.”
He clicked his pincers and suddenly –
“Oi!”
Mouse had been scooped up by his tail, and several aliens were carting him off.
“Put me down!” he yelled.
Fred hurried after Mouse, trying to calm him down. But Mouse was having none of it.
“I demand,” Mouse roared, helplessly batting the air, “to know where you’re taking me. You … NINNIES!”
After an uncomfortable ride, Mouse was plonked down in Gordon Zola’s enormous garden.
Everything was made of cheese.
Cheese flowers, cheese trees, a cheese telescope … there were even cheese statues.
“All of Gordon Zola!” gasped Fred.
“You’ll remember – Big Cheese,” Gordon said to Mouse, “that your punishment last time (as you insisted you were STRONG) was to lift my statues into position.”
“Sure,” lied Mouse. “And carrying them was EASY too!”
Fred rolled his eyes.
“In that case,” snapped Gordon, jabbing his pencil at Mouse, “today you’ll prove your strength even more.”
“Bring it on!” cried Mouse, flexing his tiny muscles. “The Big Cheese can do ANYTHING.”
“Stop boasting or you’ll be erased,” whispered Fred.
“As if!” Mouse puffed out his chest.
“Just do as he says, while I look for an escape,” said Fred as the aliens scrabbled for the best spots to watch the action!
“Right,” said the leader, pointing all four arms to a big pile of cheese boulders. “Make me a Moon House out of those. Somewhere I can sit and watch the stars.”
Mouse rolled up his sleeves. “Easy-peasy!” Except the boulders were heavier than he thought.
Much heavier!
As Mouse huffed and puffed, Fred took a sneaky peek through Gordon’s telescope, searching for a way out. But he couldn’t spy any black holes or shooting stars…
“Done!” yelled Mouse finally, his cheeks bright pink and his ears dangling down to his space boots.
Gordon inspected his new Moon House, boulder by boulder.
“Hmmm, I suppose it will do.”
“Only DO?” shrieked Mouse. “What’s WRONG with it? Too low? Oh, sorry I didn’t stick it up a tree!”
“H-he didn’t mean it!” spluttered Fred, but…
“Good idea!” Gordon nodded. “And while you’re at it, why not put my throne in it too?”
Mouse glared at Gordon.
“No fuss,” mouthed Fred.
“Grrr!” rumbled Mouse. “FINE!”
Mouse muttered and moaned and grunted and groaned as, boulder by boulder, he carted the Moon House up a ladder intoa tree!
While he did that, Fred ‘took a stroll’ but he was really checking the garden for escape holes.
“Done!” yelled Mouse again, dumping in the throne and stomping down the ladder to Gordon.
“So what NEXT?” shrieked Mouse. “Eh? Come on! Why not fire me up there – from a cannon?”
Fred froze. How was this not making a fuss…?
“H-he didn’t mean—” Fred called over. But out squeaked a cannon – and…
Mouse flew across the lawn and landed in a heap in front of Gordon Zola.
As the little aliens clapped, Fred crossed the lawn to help, when – “Whoa!” – he almost fell down a crater.
It was small and buried deep beneath a patch of whiffy ferns. But jump down there and they could tunnel away!
Fred raced over to tell Mouse. But Mouse was too busy fuming!
“You … ALIENS,” he thundered, getting to his feet and straightening his helmet.
“Never satisfied. I bet you’ll want a present next?”
“Affirmative!” nodded Gordon.
“I— What?” Mouse stopped. “You want … a p-present?” Mouse looked at Fred, whose eyes grew wide.
“Oh, Mouse,” whispered Fred. “What have you done now? We don’t have a present!”
But suddenly he remembered the biscuits in his backpack.
He whipped them out and turned to Gordon with a bow.
“Your present, oh, great leader!” Fred twinkled. “A wondrous Earth delicacy! And especially yummy … with cheese.”
Gordon smiled. Fred smiled. Mouse, though, did not.
“But those biscuits are plain ones,” Mouse tutted. “How boring! Now, I could make them into a MAGNIFICENT cheesecake if you’ve got some spare cream cheese?”
Fred gaped. If Mouse had only stopped boasting, they could have made their escape.
“Do it!” commanded Gordon. “But it had better BE magnificent, or else…” He waved the pencil under Mouse’s nose.
“It’s bye-bye forever – Big Cheese!”
Mouse and Fred were shown to a shiny kitchen inside a gigantic crater.
It had a gleaming domed roof, a larder (full of cheese) and a big, snazzy lime-green cooker.
Aliens from everywhere were on their way to watch. Not only had the Big Cheese been punished (again), but he’d promised them a magnificent cheesecake. They were even going to film it for the intergalactic cooking show Moon Munches.
While Mouse checked out the larder, Fred searched for another escape route, peering under cupboards and poking behind the cooker.
At first, he found nothing. But as he was checking beside the sink, he happened upon a rubbish chute in the shape of a biggish black hole.
“Bingo!” beamed Fred. This was it! Their way out.
“Psst – Mouse!” he called over. But it was too late. With a sudden…
