The Day That Aliens (Nearly) Ate Our Brains
Page 5
Nothing. He couldn’t see anyone.
Then he felt a tickle on his leg.
“Are you kidding me?” Freddy yelled out.
“ARE YOU ACTUALLY KIDDING ME?!”
Everyone slowly opened their eyes. There, in front of them, were Alan and Brian, the two faces that had brought terror to planet Earth. It was them all right, except there was something different about them. They were only two inches tall. The aliens from outer space were no bigger than an egg. Their spaceship, which had been hidden in the smoke, was no bigger than a shoe box.
“HAND OVER YOUR BRAINS,”
Alan demanded again. The laser gun wasn’t a laser gun at all. It was a tiny megaphone.
No one said a word. They just stared at the tiny invaders and the giant shadows they’d cast.
“WHY ARE YOU NOT OBEYING ME WITH MY ORDERS? WHY ARE YOU NOT SCAREDY DOGS? HAND OVER YOUR BRAINS!”
“Or what?!” Freddy laughed. “Are you going to kick me in the shin? Oh no, wait, you’d have to get a ladder for that!”
“ERR, ALAN, LORD OF ALL SPACEMEN, KING OF THE CASTLE, THE BIG CHEESE OF THE GALAXY … I SUGGEST WE MAKE A HASTY RETREAT. THESE HUMANS SEEM TO BE BIGGER THAN WE WERE EXPECTING.”
“NONSENSE, LOOK AT THEM, THEY ARE TERRIFIED, SEE HOW THEIR STUPID HUMAN MOUTHS WAGGLE IN FEAR!”
Alan yelled at Brian.
“THAT’S CALLED LAUGHING, SIRE.”
Everyone was beginning to giggle with relief and the absurdity that tiny two-inch aliens had just tried to take over the world.
“Where are all your many armies?” Freddy asked, peering down at the tiny spacemen.
“THE REST OF THE INVADERS WILL BE HERE IN A MO. THERE WAS TOO MANY OF THE INVADERS TO FIT IN THE ONE SPACESHIP, SO WE DID BROUGHT THE SPARE ONE.”
“Wait, your entire planet can fit into two flying saucers!” Freddy asked. “How many of you are there?”
“WELL, LET ME DOING MATHEMATICS RIGHT NOW,”
Alan said, counting his green fingers.
“THERE’S ME, BRIAN, OBVIOUSLY, THEN THERE’S DAVE, JULIAN AND TRISHA.”
“FIVE! There’s five of you?! How many planets have you invaded?”
“THIS IS OUR FIRST TIME,”
Alan said, looking at his feet.
“I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD IDEA,”
Brian muttered.
“DON’T GIVE ME THAT LOOK, BRIAN, IT’S NOT MY FAULT, THEY LOOKED SMALLER ON TV. ANYWAY, THINKING ABOUT IT, I’M NOT THAT HUNGRY, I MIGHT GO HOME, JUST REMEMBERED I GOT SOME CRUMPETS IN THE FREEZER, FROM WHEN I DID A BIG SHOP THE OTHER WEEK, I GO HOME NOW, TATTY BYE-BYE.”
“Oh, you don’t get away that easy! LET’S BLOW THEM TO KINGDOM COME!” Vladimir yelled, about to rip his shirt off, before remembering his vow to be a nice boy. “Maybe not.”
“Can’t we keep them, Uncle? They’re so cute!” Sal cried.
“No!” Sergeant West replied. “Remember who begged for a rabbit and who was left to clear up its poo and clean out its cage? Your parents won’t do that again. No aliens for you young man.”
“What should we do?” President Jones wondered. “They need to be taught a lesson.”
“I know!” said Freddy. “Leave us alone. If you ever come near us, we’ll send our most fearsome warrior to your planet instead!”
“Who’s that?” Alan asked, looking scared.
Freddy put his fingers in his mouth and let out a huge whistle.
“Alan, meet Hilda!” he yelled, and with that Hilda grabbed her lollipop and ran towards Alan and Brian.
“QUICK, START UP THE ENGINES AND SET THE SAT-NAV TO HOME, BRIAN!”
Alan shouted, running back into the tiny spaceship that was parked on the road.
“THE SAT-NAV’S NOT WORKING, SIR. REMEMBER, WE ACCIDENTALLY CRASHED INTO THAT SATELLITE,”
Brian reminded Alan.
“SHHHH, THEY THOUGHT WE SHOT IT DOWN. WHY DO YOU ALWAYS EMBARRASS ME?!”
Alan screamed after Brian as they both ran back to the spaceship. There was a quick burst of engine noise, before the spaceship reversed and zipped away into the night sky, honking its horn as it went.
“Well, what a funny day,” Freddy said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Do you know what we should do to celebrate?” President Jones said.
“What?” Sal and Freddy asked at the same time.
“Watch Wrestlegeddon Smack Down!” she grinned. “I have access to any TV station in the world; one of the perks of the job – that and the helicopter that is.”
“BOOOOOOM!”
the President of Russia yelled, ripping off his shirt in excitement. “Now you’re talking!”
“Excellent,” Freddy’s mum said. “Shall I pop the kettle on?”
High above the drama, in Freddy’s room, in a dark corner where no one was looking, a tiny voice piped up from within the fish bowl.
“Well, you don’t see that every day do you? I fancy a banana.”
Perkins tutted to himself, before swimming off.
1. Start with the body.
2. Add two arms and gloves on each hand.
3. Then add two legs, two teeny tiny shoes and the detail for Alan’s stylish space outfit.
4. Draw Alan’s bushy eyebrows and his chin.
5. Add three eyes, a mouth and two ears.
6. Then the nose. Et voilà!
Greeting and salutations to your face from my face. I am very pleasurably proud to do the meeting of you.
Translation: Hello.
I am very much looking forward to arriving at your silly spinny blue planet to do the invading and exterminating of your silly human bodies.
Translation: Hello, I’m going to kill you.
I am in the need to be dunked in water and do the relaxing on a bed made of rubber and air, tell me now where this place is or I’ll blow your face off.
Translation: Where’s the swimming pool?
I am very much moving uncontrollably to the hot sound.
Translation: I enjoy the work of Lionel Richie.
The meteorites and gases of this stinking solar system make hard the conquering of your silly-stupid rock. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
Translation: Terrible weather we’re having.
A map.
Lunch (I recommend the delicious rice pudding food or maybe some human brains).
A flask of milky tea.
Something to do to pass the time – like a game of glhjdgdtsuvfjfnfbfkffbfjkdskdjjbkjndkjbfkjkbsudjhvdjhjhvjdvhasj6666ndbdhgd, or as you humans call it ‘Twister’.
Spare pants.
The ability to tear through space and time as we know it, so you can travel at the speed of light.
Change for parking.
You will need:
• 150g white chocolate
• 100g crisped rice cereal
• Green food colouring
• Mini marshmallows or glacé cherries
Directions
1. Break up the chocolate into a heat-proof bowl*. Put the bowl over a simmering pan of water and stir the chocolate until melted.
2. Very carefully, take the bowl off the heat and allow to cool. Add one drop of green food colouring to the chocolate and stir.
3. Pour the crisped rice into a larger bowl and add the melted chocolate. Mix until the chocolate has covered the rice.
4. When the mixture has cooled slightly, use a table spoon or an ice cream scoop to scoop up some of the mix. Spoon each portion onto a tray lined with baking paper.
5. Use your fingers to mould the puddings into brain-like shapes and decorate with mini marshmallows and/or glacé cherries.
6. Put the tray in the fridge to allow the puddings to set.
7. Proudly give a brain pudding to an unsuspecting relative, or smash to bits and eat yourself!
* Always ask an adult to supervise when using a hob.
My name’s Tom, I’m the fella who wrote and illustrated the book (illustrated is just a posh way of saying I drew the pictures). I’m here to tell
you a little bit about myself. I used to be a cartoonist for a newspaper, it was my job to draw cartoons of prime ministers and Presidents. After that I started writing and illustrating my own books. I like football, fizzy sour sweets, laughing lots, sausages, staring out of the window and writing books. I have a silly children, three wives and a lovely dog … no hang on, I mean I have a silly dog, three children and a lovely wife.
Find out more at www.tommclaughlin.co.uk
www.walker.co.uk
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.
First published in Great Britain 2018 by Walker Books Ltd 87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ
Text and illustrations © 2018 Tom McLaughlin
Cover design © 2018 Walker Books Ltd
The right of Tom McLaughlin to be identified as author/illustrator of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data: a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-1-4063-7882-5 (ePub)
www.walker.co.uk
recipe is for informational and/or entertainment purposes only; please check ingredients carefully if you have any allergies and, if in doubt, consult a health professional.