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The Clumsies Make a Mess of the School
Sorrel Anderson
Shortlisted for the Roald Dahl Funny prize 2010, The Clumsies are back in their fifth and most hilarious book yet! Full of surreal invention and sparkling wit, this latest installment will have everyone checking under their desks for talking mice…More sparklingly funny adventures about the much-loved talking mice that live under Howard's desk, eat his biscuits, try and help him out, but only ever end up making a mess. With loveable characters, fabulously funny plots and dynamic design The Clumsies are destined to be classics of the future
Dedication (#u72269b11-bef7-50ea-85bf-b9e97eb23d05)
For Pip, and Harry
also make a mess in:
The Clumsies Make a Mess
The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Seaside
The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Big Show
The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Zoo
Cover (#u1cca1320-2a56-5519-bf73-18338edd92ef)
Title Page (#u8348ce02-2a85-5e20-abfb-618a6a41114e)
Dedication
St. Apricot’s (#litres_trial_promo)
Glue, and the wall of lunch (#litres_trial_promo)
Grand Sports Day Part 1 (#litres_trial_promo)
Grand Sports Day Part 2 (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright
About the Publisher
was a Tuesday morning and the Clumsies were hiding under the desk while Mr Bullerton - Howard’s boss - was looming over it, shouting at Howard.
‘I wonder what Howard’s done now?’ whispered Purvis, to Mickey Thompson.
‘I don’t know,’ whispered Mickey Thompson, back, ‘but whatever it is I wish they’d hurry up. I want my breakfast.’
agreed
Ortrud,
loudly
‘Shhh,’ whispered Purvis. ‘Listen: he’s saying something about a…’
‘School?’ said Howard.
confirmed Mr Bullerton.
‘But I don’t want to go to
,’ said Howard. ‘I’ve already done all that; I’m an adult now.’
Mr Bullerton
.
‘You will go to that
up the road,’ he said, gesturing, ‘and you’ll give them a message from me.’
‘You don’t mean St Apricot’s?’ asked Howard.
‘I do mean St Apricot’s,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘They’re having a
this afternoon, so I’ve decided to attend as Guest of Honour. The people there will notice me and be impressed. That’s the first part of the message.’
‘But…’ began Howard.
‘And you may tell them,’ continued Mr Bullerton, puffing out his chest, ‘that even though I am a busy and important person with a busy and important schedule, I shall kindly make time to give them a speech and hand out the prizes. My name will be famous! That’s the second part of the message.’
‘But have they invited you?’ asked Howard. ‘Surely you’d need to be invited?’
‘Nonsense,’ said Mr Bullerton. ‘They’re lucky to have me, and you can tell them that too, as part three.’
‘I see,’ said Howard.
‘And then,’ continued Mr Bullerton, again, ‘you must put in place the appropriate arrangements.’
‘How do you mean?’ said Howard.
Mr Bullerton tutted. ‘The usual things for a Guest of Honour, of course,’ he said. ‘Plinths, cordials, etc.’
‘Eh?’ said Howard.
‘I SAID PLINTHS,
CORDIALS, ETC,’
shouted Mr Bullerton. ‘Make sure they’re ready. Go on, then; off you go.’
‘Can’t it wait a little while?’ asked Howard. ‘Only there are one or two things I need to…’
shouted Mr Bullerton, and Howard leapt up and dived under the desk.
‘Howard!’
the mice.
roared Mr Bullerton.
‘Help,’ gulped Howard.
‘Of course,’ said the mice. ‘We’ll come with you.’
‘No you won’t,’ said Howard. ‘Not this time.’
‘WHAT?’ shouted Mr Bullerton. ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING UNDER THERE?’
‘I’m err... err…’
‘Finding your bag,’ whispered Purvis, handing Howard an
bag, and climbing into it. Mickey Thompson and Ortrud climbed in too.
‘I SAID NO,’ shouted Howard.
‘DON’T YOU “NO” ME!’ shouted Mr Bullerton. ‘COME OUT AT ONCE!’
Howard sighed, defeatedly, grasped the bag
, and stood up.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said, sidling towards the door. ‘I was just finding my bag.’
Mr Bullerton stared at it.
‘It’s
,’ he said.
‘Is it?’ said Howard, sidling faster. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’
‘What’s in it?’ said Mr Bullerton.
‘Err, nothing,’ said Howard, whisking out of the room and racing down the corridor towards the lift.
‘WHAT?’ shouted Mr Bullerton. ‘WAIT! I DON’T WANT YOU MUCKING
ANYTHING UP THIS TIME, HOWARD ARMITAGE!’
‘No, bye,’ waved Howard, as the lift arrived with a ‘PING!’ and he hurried inside.
‘DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?’ yelled Mr Bullerton, as the doors clunked shut.‘Where to?’ said the lift.
‘Come along, come along,’ said Howard, jabbing the buttons.
‘Ask nicely, now,’ giggled the lift, not budging. ‘Say the magic word.’
‘Delighted to oblige,’ said the lift, setting off.
‘At last,’ muttered Howard.
‘He’s agitated,’ observed the lift, as they trundled down. ‘What’s afoot?’
‘We’re taking a complicated message to
the up the road,’ said Purvis.
‘They’re having a
‘Ooh!’ said the lift. ‘I’ve heard about those: there’ll be people running and leaping about and all sorts. Some of them get into sacks and bounce around.’
There was another scrabbling noise from inside the bag and Mickey Thompson peeped out, looking surprised.
‘It’s true!’ said the lift, warming to its theme. ‘There’s even a race where one person gets tied onto another person and they charge
more like. It wouldn’t be my cup of tea but they enjoy it.’
‘Mr Bullerton’s decided to be the Guest of Honour,’ said Purvis.
‘Has he, now?’ said the lift. ‘Got him in that great
bag, have you?’
‘No,’ said Purvis. ‘He’s following on later once we’ve put in place the appropriate arrangements.’
‘At last,’ said Howard, hurrying out. ‘It gives me the
when you talk to that thing. Lifts aren’t supposed to talk.’
‘Neither are mice,’ pointed out Mickey Thompson,
, ‘but that doesn’t stop you talking to us.’
‘That’s different,’ said Howard.
‘Why?’ said Mickey Thompson.
‘It just is,’ said Howard.
‘But…’ began Mickey Thompson.
‘There isn’t time to discuss it now,’ said Howard, quickly. ‘We need to get going.’
