Agatha Parrot and the Mushroom Boy (9 page)

BOOK: Agatha Parrot and the Mushroom Boy
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‘Come back here you two!'
screamed James. He tried to run after them.
Ping tinkle dinkle!
went all the lids.

‘Oh no!' whimpered Ellie clutching my arm. ‘It's a giant mushroom that chases people! I've NEVER been so scared in my WHOLE LIFE!'

But James had forgotten about the sheet round his legs. Hop hop . . .
plop!
James fell over and landed face-first in the flower bed.

By this time the other boys had shot off round the corner but we could still hear them laughing. Meanwhile James was struggling so hard to get up he didn't realise he'd got a flower stuck to his ear.
FLASH
went the camera. ‘Sorry,' said the big gnome and all the little girls giggled. ‘I couldn't resist it, but at least I got your face that time.'

Even Ellie started to giggle. She went to help him up and said:
‘Thank you James. I'll never be scared of mushrooms again.'

‘Get off me,' sulked James crossly.

‘Be nice,' I said to him. ‘And then maybe Ellie can arrange for you to help cut the cake up.'

James suddenly looked hopeful. ‘Oh yes! Can I?'

Ellie looked at me as if James had gone potty, so I explained. ‘He loves cutting cakes. It really makes his day, especially if you let him do
it in private.'

So Ellie and the giant mushroom went inside on a cake-cutting mission, Flozzy and the little people danced around the big jolly gnome and Tilly turned me into an elephant. What a lovely happy ending to the story, don't you think?

Only it isn't the end yet.

Who's Laughing Now?

L
ater on that night, the front door banged open and James stomped in. I was sitting on the sofa and he just threw his sheet and cushion over me. Oooh temper temper!

‘Not going to football, James?' asked Dad who was in the armchair watching telly again.

‘NO.'

By now I'd got the sheet off and held it up. It was covered in coloured patches of sauce and icing. It looked rather groovy actually.

‘What's all that mess?' asked Dad.

‘Your cake,' sulked James.

‘Oh!' said Dad. ‘How was it?'

‘Perfect!' said James giving me a
really filthy look. ‘Absolutely nothing wrong with it at all.'

‘Don't sound so surprised,' said Dad. ‘I told you it was one of the all-time greats. Now let's get that sheet into the washing machine.'

The telly clicked off, but there was no one near it. James was astonished until he saw that Dad was holding the TV remote. ‘Where did that come from?' he gasped.

‘It was in the kitchen all the
time,' said Dad. ‘It had fallen inside the oven glove hanging on the back of the door.'

Dad took the sheet through and James stared after him looking confused. His little baked-bean brain was trying to work out how he'd managed to throw the remote round to the other side of the door and into an oven glove that he was sure hadn't even been there before. Ooooh . . . so how DID it get there I wonder? Ha ha! But I had to be careful not to give myself away.

‘At least it's turned up,' I said
sounding all cool and casual.

‘Why did you tell me it was in the cake?' hissed James.

‘Me? I never did,' I said. ‘It must have all been in your imagination.'

(Go on, you can turn back and check if you like. I never said anything about it going in the cake until James started it! Ha ha loser.)

‘I hate little sisters!' he scowled, and went stomping upstairs to get away from everybody and everything.

It had all been very satisfactory, and what's more, guess what was just about to start on the telly?
Sing, Wiggle and Shine: The Backstage Special
. I got myself nicely laid out on the sofa just as the music was starting. Ahhhh . . . it was well-deserved perfect luxury.

But that's when Tilly came in. She could have sat on the armchair, but she didn't. Instead she pulled my legs off the sofa, and then climbed
up and sat herself down right close up next to me.

‘This is a bit boring,' said Tilly.

‘Then go away,' I told her. ‘I'm watching it.'

‘I want to watch
Ballet Bears
,' said Tilly.

‘No way little girl. I was here first.'

Tilly sat there very quietly for a minute. It was spooky. Tilly never sat that quietly. It was putting me
right off. ‘Tilly, can't you just go away?' I said.

‘But I want to watch
Ballet Bears
.'

‘Well you can't.'

‘Oh yes I can.' Tilly sounded very sure of herself.

I didn't like the sound of this, especially when she went on to say my name really slowly like this: ‘Ag-gath-aaar? You know when James was prodding the cake and the telly channel changed?'

No, I didn't like the sound of this one bit.

‘Does James know that you were hiding the remote up your sleeve and pushing the buttons? I know, I saw you. You wouldn't like me to tell him, would you?'

Tilly lay back on the sofa and brought her legs up so she could push me off, but she didn't have to. I know when I'm beaten. All I could do was get up and hand over the remote.
Ballet Bears
came on, and Tilly rolled over to make herself comfortable.

Just for once I found myself
agreeing with James. Gosh I
hate
little sisters too.

The Ending

T
hat's the end of the story, and ever since then James has been really nice and we've all lived happily ever after in our little house at number 5 Odd Street . . .

. . . and
that's
a big fat lie
ha ha!
But you guessed that
didn't you? So give yourself a round of applause clap clap clap
WAHOO
for YOU.

Of course James is still as horrible as ever, but I'll tell you something secretly true about big brothers. If we didn't have any big brothers in the world, it wouldn't be so much fun. For instance, there was one time when James was getting emails from our cousin Bella who we never see, and she ended up thinking he was
in big deep LOVE with her! (Gosh how could that have happened eh? OK I admit it was sort of my fault, I had this idea that went just a little bit slightly wrong . . .
oooops ha ha!
)

Sadly the old bloke that's typing all this out for me says we've nearly run out of pages, so we'll have to leave that story for another book. Instead I'll fill up the last bit of space with a cake recipe which might come
in handy for you if your school is having a fete. Hope you like it and
WELL DONE
for reading all of this book because it's got 12,731 words! (The old bloke just counted them on his computer).

And remember, if you
HAVE
got a big brother, don't be too mean to him. He can't help being a) big and b) a brother. What's he supposed to do about it? Turn into a pet rabbit or a giant pizza or something?
Ha ha
that'd be so wicked!

Good Byeeeeeeee!

How to Make a Cake

by Agatha Jane Parrot . . .

This is how to make a sponge cake. (Other cakes are a bit harder and fruit cakes take ages so it's better to buy one in a shop.)

What you need:

• A cupful of soft butter or margarine (or maybe a bit less)

• A cupful of caster sugar. This is like normal sugar but more powdery.

• A cupful of self-raising flour (or maybe a bit more)

• 3 eggs

• Loads of jam and cream and stuff

What you have to do:

1.   Get an old person to turn on the oven so it warms up. Tell them that it needs to be set to 4°C or gas mark 180. Or maybe it's the other way round.

2.   Mix up the butter and the caster sugar in a big bowl. You need to squidge it round and round with a spoon so it all turns into a big mushy lump.

3.   Break the eggs into a different bowl. Pick all the bits of shell out then whizz them round with a fork until all the yellow and white is mixed up. Don't lick the fork because that's gross.

4.   Pour the eggs in with the sugar and butter mush and stir it up so it's slimy and mushy.

5.   Sprinkle flour on the top and keep squidging it round all the time until all the flour is mixed in.

6.   Put the stuff in a cake tin for cooking but BEFORE YOU DO, you have to rub round the inside of the tin with a bit of butter or it will all stick and burn on the insides.

7.   Get your helpful old person to put the tin of mix in the oven. That way if anybody gets a burn on their finger it's them and not you.

8.   Go and watch telly for 20 minutes while the old person moans about how messy the kitchen is.

9.   Return to find the kitchen is miraculously clean. Ask old person to get cake out of the oven.

10. Go and watch more telly until the cake cools down.

11. Cover cake with cream and jam and stuff while the old person moans about how they only just cleaned the kitchen and now it's even worse than before. And there's your cake.
Ta-dah!

Serves 6 people. (That's if you cut it into 6 bits. If you cut it into 8 bits then it serves 8 people. And if Martha gets to it first then it only serves 1 person.)

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