Future Ratboy and the Attack of the Killer Robot Grannies

First published in Great Britain 2015 by Jelly Pie an imprint of Egmont UK Ltd The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text and illustration copyright © Jim Smith 2015 The moral rights of the author-illustrator have been asserted.

ISBN 978 1 7803 1430 3

www.futureratboy.com www.jellypiecentral.co.uk www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

Printed and bound in Great Britain by the CPI Group

56628/1

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Hello, my name is Colin Lamppost and this is the story of how I got zapped millions of years into the future and turned into a superhero rat.

5

It all started one Saturday night when I was at home in Shnozville, sitting on the sofa with my cuddly toy bird, Bird.

My mum and dad and little sister were on the sofa too, and we were all waiting for . . .

to start on our really old TV.

6

said my mum, and my dad scrabbled his hand down the side of the sofa, looking for the remote control. He pulled it out and pointed it at the TV.

7

‘Stupid twiddler!’ he grumbled, banging it against his knee, and the volume zoomed up to a hundred.

cried my mum, and my dad got up and plodded over to the telly. ‘Blooming telly!’ he growled.

8

Suddenly there was a tap on the window. A raindrop had hit the glass and was zigzagging down it like a tear.

‘Aw, don’t cry, little window!’ said my sister, who’s one of those sisters who feels sorry for things like windows.

9

‘Hmmm, looks like we’ve got a problem, Bird,’ I said to Bird, even though he was just a cuddly toy bird who didn’t understand anything. ‘Mr Window’s sad, and if we don’t cheer him up, my sister’s gonna be going on about it all the way through ATTACK OF THE KILLER ROBOT GRANNIES!’

Bird’s shiny plastic eyes stared at the bowl of popcorn on the table. But only because that was the way he was facing.

10

I grabbed a tissue, leapt off the sofa and forward-rolled across the living room towards the glass.

‘Colin Lamppost to the rescue!’ I boomed in my best superhero voice, and I handed the tissue to the window. But because the window didn’t have hands, it couldn’t take it. ‘Argh, foiled again!’ I said, crumpling the tissue up in my hand.

11

Another raindrop tapped against the glass, then about seventeen more. ‘Hmmm . . . must be that storm the weatherman was talking about,’ I said to Bird.

‘Brilliant thinking, Colin!’ I squawked, doing Bird’s voice for him. ‘Thanks, Bird!’ I smiled, and I forward-rolled back to the sofa and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

12

‘WAAAAAHHH!’ screamed my sister, and I threw my popcorn in the air, which is something I’ve always wanted to do.

‘Nobody panic!’ said my dad, or at least I think it was him, because all I could see was pitch black. The TV had turned off, as well as all the lights in the living room, and everyone else’s in the whole street too. ‘The lightning must have blown the electrics!’ said my dad, and just as he said it, all the lights came back on.

13

‘Phew, that was close!’ I said to Bird. ‘Thought we might miss ATTACK OF THE KILLER ROBOT GRANNIES for a second there!’ I grinned, looking at the TV, which was still black.

‘RIGHT, THAT’S IT!’ boomed my dad, pulling the plug out and lifting the TV off its stand.

cried my mum.

14

‘I’VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF THIS PIECE OF JUNK!’

he shouted, marching into the hallway and out of the front door, towards our wheelie bin.

15

‘NOOO!’ I cried, running out of the living room and diving into the cupboard under the stairs. I grabbed my anorak and put it on, pulling up the hood.

Hanging on a hook was an old scratched-up scuba-diving mask. I’d need that too, what with all the rain outside. ‘Operation Save The TV!’ I shouted, heading for the front door with Bird tucked underneath my arm.

16

‘COLIN SWEETIE, COME BACK HERE!’ shouted my mum, as I stretched the scuba mask over my head and zoomed out of the front door, past my dad who was coming back in, minus the TV.

‘I’VE GOT TO SAVE THE TELLY!’ I shouted. ‘OTHERWISE I’LL NEVER SEE ATTACK OF THE KILLER ROBOT GRANNIES!’

17

A bolt of lightning hit the little apple tree in our front garden and a branch exploded, spraying tiny little bits of bark through the air.

‘WAAAAAHHH! BE CAREFUL, MY DARLING!’ screamed my mum, as I lifted the lid of our green plastic wheelie bin and dived into it, which is another thing I’ve always wanted to do.

18

‘Phew, that was close!’ I whispered, giving Bird a stroke and patting the TV. My eyes were getting used to the pitch blackness, and I noticed I was sitting on a half-filled-up bin bag, which was actually quite comfy.

‘Squeak!’ squeaked something, and seeing as it couldn’t have been Bird, because he was just a cuddly toy bird that couldn’t speak, I looked around the bin for something else that might have made the noise. AND THAT WAS WHEN I SPOTTED THE RAT.

‘RAAAAAT!’ I screamed. Not that anyone could hear me, what with the lightning bolt hitting the bin.

19

I woke up and didn’t know where I was. Then I remembered I was in a bin.

I lifted the lid and jumped out. It was morning and the little apple tree in my front garden was now a gigantic, ancient one. ‘Coooool!’ I said, and I looked up at my house, which was two times taller and more metal-looking than I remembered. ‘Also coooool!’ I smiled. I like saying ‘cool’, in case you haven’t noticed.

20

‘Mu-um! I’m ho-ome!’ I shouted, knocking on the front door.

The door whooshed open like one of the ones at my local supermarket, andan old lady with a shiny metal headand red traffic-light eyes peereddown at me. ‘HELLO DEAR,’she bleeped,in a roboticvoice.

21

‘Hmmm . . . you’re not my mum,’ I said, scratching my chin and lookingher up and down. She had skinnymetal legs, just like a robot would,except at the end of them wereclippy-cloppy brown shoes. Dentedinto her metal skirt in scary-lookingcapitals was the name ‘MAVIS 3000’.

bleeped MAVIS 3000, her mouth notmoving.

‘So where are my mum and dad and little sister?’ I said, peering past herinto the hallway. Usually our hallwayis filled up with trainers and coats andtennis balls and things like that. Nowit was just an empty metal tube withflashing buttons on the walls.

22

MAVIS 3000 opened a little door onher square, metal belly and stuck herclaw-hand in, pulling out a mug. ‘NICECUP OF TEA?’ she bleeped, pouring asip’s worth into her non-closingmouth. ‘MMM,’ she pinged, likemy mum’s microwave,and a cloud of teasteam hissed outof her nostrilsand into myface.

23

‘DIVE FOR COVER!’ I shouted in mysuperhero voice, not diving for coverat all. My scuba mask had misted upfrom all the tea steam, and I backedaway down the path, bumping intothe green plastic wheelie bin I’d justjumped out of.

Bird fluttered out of the bin. ‘WAAAHHH!’he screeched, peering up at MAVIS3000, and he flew through the airtowards me and tucked himselfunder my arm.

24

I glanced down at Bird, forgettingabout the crazy robot granny for amillisecond, and wiped the tea steamoff my scuba mask.

‘Something weird’s going on here,’ Imumbled, poking Bird’s fat furry belly,and he squawked. ‘Bird doesn’t rufflehis fur . . . or fly through the air . . .or squawk when you poke his belly!’

I peered into Bird’s shiny plastic eyes,and they blinked. ’YOU’RE NOT BIRD!’ Ishouted.

screeched Bird, copying what I’d justsaid, and I was just about to pinchmyself to see if I was dreaming, whenI heard MAVIS 3000 clip-clopping downthe path towards me.

25

‘FANCY A BISCUIT?’ she bleeped,towering above us like a lamppost,which is my second name in case youforgot. A chocolate digestive whirredout of a slot in her belly and shepincered it with her claw and slid itinto her mouth. ‘YUMMY,’ she bleeped,and a crunching sound blurted out ofthe little speaker on her chest.

You know when you chomp on achocolate digestive and the crumbsstart flying out of your mouth? That’swhat was happening now. Except thatthe crumbs flying out of MAVIS 3000’smouth were zooming towards myface like billions of tiny bullets.

26

‘ARRGGHH!’ screamed a flower stickingout of the front lawn, as a crumbshot through one of its petals. Whichwas weird, because I’d never heard aflower scream before.

‘OOF!’ groaned a snail, its shell explodingfrom a biscuity bullet.

27

‘Operation Don’t Get Hit By A ChocolateDigestive Crumb!’ I cried, diving into thewheelie bin with Not Bird. My housewas on a hilly road, and I’d alwayswondered what it’d be like to rolldown it - NOW WAS MY CHANCE!

‘Let’s get the uncoolness out of here!’I screamed, as the bin began to moveand we zoomed downthe slope towardsShnozville High Street.

28

The bin crashed to a stop and I crawled out. We’d bumped into a pair of legs with yellow trainers on the end of them. The trainers hovered a centimetre off the pavement, which was lucky, because underneath them was a worm going for his morning stroll.

29

‘Hey, your bin just crashed into my legs!’ shouted the owner of the legs, who was an angry-looking lady with a see-through TV screen floating in front of her face. She wasn’t actually even looking at me, she was more staring at her screen.

30

‘Good morning! It’s Sunkeels thetwo-hundred-and-seventeenth ofPlurgtember, Eight Million and Twelve,and this is today’s news . . .’ saidthe man on the screen.

‘Sunkeels?’ I said, looking aroundat Shnozville High Street.

31

The buildings were about a hundredand seventeen times taller and shinierthan I remembered, and the carsfloated more than usual. ‘What’s aSunkeels?’ I said. ‘And what was allthat about it being Eight Millionand Twelve?’

The lady looked down at me, hereyes turning from angry to scared.

32

‘RAAAT!’ she screamed, which wasweird seeing as I was Colin Lamppost,not a rat, and she zoomed off in herhover-trainers.

Not Bird floated out of the bin andlanded on the pavement. ‘Not Bird,there seems to be a problem,’ I saidin my superhero voice. ‘I think wemight’ve been zapped into the future!’I cried, pointing around at how shinyand futuristic Shnozville High Streethad become.

33

‘NOT!’ chirped Not Bird, pecking at adried-up blob of pink bubblegum, andthe blob twitched, slithering off tofind a quieter bit of pavement.

‘You see!’ I said, pointing at the blob.‘You’d never get a bit of bubblegumdoing something like that in the olddays!’

34

Not Bird looked up at me and tiltedhis eyebrows into their scaredpositions.

I said.

Then I realised he was looking atwhatever was behind me.

35

‘HELLO DEAR,’ bleeped a familiar robottyvoice, and I turned round to seeMAVIS 3000 standing there withanother robot granny.

She was fatter than MAVIS 3000 andhad neon-red lipstick zigzagged roundher mouth. Dented into her metal skirtin scary-looking capitals was the name‘DOREEN XL97-220’.

36

Both the robot grannies were carrying handbags and pulling old granny shopping trollies, except unlike normal old granny shopping trollies, these ones floated - probably because we were in the future.

‘EEK!’ squeaked Not Bird’s bubblegumblob, trying to slither off a tiny bitfaster, and MAVIS 3000 stomped herfoot down on the pavement, spiking

it to death with her clippy-cloppy

heel. She held her shoe up to

DOREEN XL97-220’s mouth and

waggled her metal eyebrows.

‘OOH. TA VERY MUCH, MAVIS,’

bleeped DOREEN XL97-220,pincering the blob off MAVIS3000’s heel with her jaggedymetal teeth andstarting to chew.

‘Operation Back Away Quietly,’ Iwhispered to Not Bird, dragging thewheelie bin in front of us like a smellyplastic shield, and the bin scraped alongthe pavement, not being quiet at all.

MAVIS 3000 nodded at me with hersquare head, and her red traffic-lighteyes flashed. ‘THIS IS THE ONE I TOLDYOU ABOUT, DOREEN,’ she bleeped,and DOREEN XL97-220 did acomputery-sounding tut.

40

‘OOH, YOU’RE RIGHT, MAVIS. HE IS A BIT RATTY, ISN’T HE?’ she bleeped, and I wondered if they maybe weren’t talking about me at all, seeing as I wasn’t ratty in the slightest, I was Colin Lamppost-y.

I twizzled my head around, looking for that rat that’d been in the bin with me and Not Bird the night before. ‘Operation I Reckon It Must Be That Rat They’re Talking About, Not Me . . .’ I said.

41

That was how big my gasp was

when I saw my reflection.

‘RAT!’ I shouted, pointing at myself. I pushed my scuba mask on to my forehead and stared at my new reflection.

My nose had whiskers on it and a black blob at the end like a shiny full stop. A pair of aerials poked out of my head, and a plug sat at the end of a cord that was sticking out of my bum. A bin bag hung flappily down my back like a cape, and on my belly fizzled a TV screen.

42

No wonder that angry-looking woman had screamed when she saw me! Not only had the bolt of lightning zapped me and Not Bird into the future, it’d fused me together with the rat - and my rubbish old TV too!

43

‘WHAT DO YOU RECKON, DOREEN?’ bleeped MAVIS 3000. ‘NICE SLICE OF RATBOY ON TOAST FOR BREAKFAST?’ she said, her shiny metal teeth glinting in the Sunkeels morning sun.

‘OOH, I COULD JUST MURDER ONE!’ nodded DOREEN XL97-220, pressing a button on the side of her head.

44

The bubblegum blob she’d been chewing on started to balloon out of her mouth, blowing up to the size of a baby elephant. She crunched her lips shut and the balloon floated into the air, bouncing on the pavement towards my shiny full-stop nose.

‘I am NOT a ratboy, my name is Colin Lamppost!’ I shouted, as the balloon tried to swallow me whole.

45

‘RATBOY! RATBOY! RATBOY!’ squawked Not Bird, and I tucked him under my arm, twizzled round and forward- rolled into the bin, which immediately started to roll away, thank coolness.

46

‘Operation Don’t Get Swallowed Whole By A Bubblegum Balloon!’ I cried, zooming down the High Street inside my wheelie bin. I leaned left and we skidded down an alleyway, crashing into a wall.

47

The bubblegum balloon floated past the end of the alleyway, followed by MAVIS 3000 and DOREEN XL97-220, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘It’s just like ATTACK OF THE KILLER ROBOT GRANNIES!’ I said,crawling out of the wheelie bin and giving Not Bird athumbs up.

48

‘NOT!’ squawked Not Bird, giving me a thumbs down with the thumb bit of his wing.

I looked up and peered ata man with thirteen eyes.

49

‘No need to be scared, little ratboy!’ smiled the man with thirteen eyes. Not that he was a man exactly, he was more of a man-sized fly.

His arms and legs had hairy spikes sticking out all over them, and on his back, neatly folded up like a see-through tablecloth, hung a giant pair of wings. Next to him was a woman-sized fly and two kid-sized ones.

50

51

‘My name isn’t Ratboy, it’s Colin Lamppost!’ I said, and the man-sized fly chuckled.

‘Very nice to meet you, Colin! My name is Dindle Frogshnoff, and I think I might be able to help you,’ he buzzed, shooting his hairy hand out to shake.

So I shook it.

Even though it was pretty scary looking.

But not as scary looking

as a robot granny claw.

52

‘. . . and that’s how I ended up standing here talking to you!’ I said three hours later, once I’d told the Frogshnoff family my whole story.

‘Fascinating,’ yawned Dindle. ‘Now, as I said three hours ago, I think I might be able to help you - I was an orphan once too, you see . . .’ he buzzed, and my plug-tail twitched.

53

‘Hang on a millisecond, I’m not an orphan!’ I said, smoothing my nose-whiskers down with my tongue. ‘We’re just stuck here for a bit until we work out how to get home, isn’t that right, Not Bird?’

‘NOT!’ screeched Not Bird.

Mrs Frogshnoff patted me on my aerials and grabbed Not Bird, giving him a little cuddle. ‘NOT!’ he screeched again, wriggling out of the cuddle and lowering himself down on my head like a wig.

54

‘I understand, Colin,’ buzzed Dindle. ‘But until you DO get home, you’ll need a place to rest your head,’ he smiled, looking at Not Bird, who’d dozed off and was snoring NOTs.

He pointed up the street to a tall brown building with a shop at the bottom of it called ‘Bunny Deli’. On its roof sat a gigantic plastic cheeseburger and chips. Next to them stood an enormous blue cup with a stripy red-and-white straw sticking out of it.

55

The cheeseburger looked like it’d been designed on a computer. Its bun was all jaggedy like the pixels on a screen, and the chips were zigzaggedy instead of straight like I was used to.

My TV belly rumbled, and I patted it, realising I hadn’t had anything to eat in millions of years.

‘Lets go see if there’s any room at my old orphanage!’ grinned Dindle, flapping his wings and buzzing off towards the giant cheeseburger.

I shouted, running after him.

56

57

I followed the Frogshnoff family up the street, wheeling my bin behind me. ‘Don’t worry Not Bird, I’ll find a way to get us home!’ I said to Not Bird, who’d woken up from his nap and was fluttering next to me.

‘NOT!’ he squawked, dodging a lamppost, which is my second name, in case you’d forgotten.

58

‘Dindle!’ smiled a fat lady standing outside the tall brown building. She was quite a bit older than my mum, and had ten arms. Her hair looked like it was made out of an enormous smelly green mop, and her nose was all pointy like a beak.

Apart from that, she seemed quite nice.

59

‘Bunny!’ buzzed Dindle, and I guessed her name must be Bunny.

‘Ooh, it’s good to see you, Dindle!’ grinned Bunny, hugging Dindle with her ten arms, and his thirteen eyes bulged out of their hairy sockets.

‘And who do we have here?’ she said, peering down at me.

60

Dindle explained how I’d been zapped into the future and turned into a half rat, half boy, half TV.

‘My name’s Colin Lamppost,’ I said. ‘And this is my sidekick, Not Bird.’

‘RATBOY! RATBOY!’ squawked Not Bird, pointing his beak at me, and I nudged him away while staring through the window of Bunny Deli. Inside were three weird-looking kids, sitting at a table, chatting and laughing.

61

One of them was a boy with two faces. He was wearing a shiny red suit with two little wings sticking out of the hood. Covering the top half of his two faces were two masks, one for each set of eyes.

Next to him sat an alien with a big bald blue head. His eyeballs were black, and he had pointy, dinosaurish teeth.

62

The third kid was a girl with round glasses and five arms - two on each side and one in the middle. She was wearing one of those long white coats scientists wear, except with five arm-sleeves instead of the usual two.

63

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