by Andy Stanton
Wearily the others followed the lad over to the windmill. They watched unenthusiastically as he started up the machinery. No one really felt like breakfast but presently an early morning breeze caught the windmill’s sails. And soon enough, a fresh loaf of bread appeared on the conveyor belt, the first loaf of bread the windmill had made since Nicholas de Twinklecakes’ time. Only it wasn’t a loaf of bread at all, it was a different kind of baked good altogether. In fact –
‘It’s a gingerbread man,’ gasped Old Granny.
‘With electric muscles!’ cried Polly.
‘Could it be –’ wondered Mrs Lovely.
‘Woof?’ said Jake.
‘THE TRUTH IS A LEMON MERINGUE!’ shouted Friday. ‘It’s Captain Excellent!’
‘Otherwise known as Alan Taylor!’ laughed Polly in delight. ‘He’s been baked again! Alan Taylor! Alan Taylor, you’re back at Number 1 on the Not Bein’ Dead Charts an’ that’s a official Polly fact! Spirit of the Rainbow, how did you knows?’
But the Spirit of the Rainbow had gone and where he had stood there were only a couple of fruit chews glistening sweetly among the dewdrops.
‘Never mind him now!’ laughed Alan Taylor, jumping up to kiss Polly on the nose. ‘It IS me! What an adventure, Polly! What strange things I saw while I was dead! They only added to my knowledge of the natural world, and perhaps one day I will teach you all about them.’
And who knows? Perhaps one day he will. But until then, there will be plenty more tales to tell about Polly and her friends. You see, stories are like rivers – they keep on flowing and they sometimes have fish in them. And just as sure as the river flows, there will always be another adventure rolling around the bend. For as Old Granny said that fine summer’s morn, as everyone sat laughing in the sunshine,
The past has a way of repeating itself.
The past has a way of repeating itself.
The past has a way of repeating itself.
But the future? Well, now, that’s another story.
THE END
THE BALLAD OF BARRY FUNGUS
Words and music: Friday O’Leary
Barry was a fine young man
When he went off to war
With a hi-ho-diddle and a hi-ho-dee!
And a rifle sitting on his knee
And a flask filled with his grandma’s tea
Crazy Barry Fungus
He shot one hundred soldiers down
His very first day at war
With a hi-ho-diddle and a hi-ho-dee!
Bang-bang! He shot ’em, one two three!
‘The soldier’s life is the life for me!’
Said Crazy Barry Fungus
The general took him to one side
And punched him in the neck
With a hi-ho-diddle and a hi-ho-dee!
The general said, ‘What’s wrong with thee?
You’re meant to shoot the enemy!
You stupid dangerous weirdo.’
They sent him home that very day
In absolute disgrace
With a hi-ho-diddle and a hi-ho-dee!
Ignored by friends and family
They were too ashamed to want to see
Crazy Barry Fungus
He went to live by the railway tracks
In a gilded silver cage
With a hi-ho-diddle and a hi-ho-dee!
‘A man I don’t deserve to be,
I’ll be a chaffinch, tweety-twee!’
Chirped Crazy Barry Fungus
And ever since that day, my friends
A chaffinch he has been
With a hi-ho-diddle and a hi-ho-dee!
He flaps in his cage and begs for seed
He’d like to leave but he’s lost the key
Crazy Barry Fungus
So if you chance to see him
Upon a rainy night
With a high-ho-diddle and a hi-ho-dee!
Please be kind, give gen’rously
For one day you might be like he –
Living in a birdcage
(Four hour long harmonica solo)
FIN
About the author
Andy Stanton lives in North London. He studied English at Oxford but they kicked him out. He has been a film script reader, a cartoonist, an NHS lackey and lots of other things. He has many interests, but best of all he likes cartoons, books and music (even jazz). One day he’d like to live in New York or Berlin or one of those places because he’s got fantasies of bohemia. His favourite expression is ‘Don’t look at me like that, fish!’ and his favourite word is ‘whippersnapper’. This is his fourth book.
About the illustrator
David Tazzyman lives in South London with his girlfriend, Melanie, and their son, Stanley. He grew up in Leicester, studied illustration at Manchester Metropolitan University and then travelled around Asia for three years before moving to London in 1997. He likes football, cricket, biscuits, music and drawing. He still dislikes celery.
Oh, my word, they’re good.
Not just good but REALLY good.
Not just REALLY good but REALLY,
REALLY – look, just read them, all right?
Shabba me whiskers! This is barking bonkers . . .
You’re A Bad Man, Mr Gum! won the Red House Children’s Book Award AND the Blue Peter Book Award for The Most Fun Story With Pictures. AND was shortlisted for the Sheffield Children’s Book Award AND the Leicester Children’s Book Award AND the Branford Boase Book Award. AND Mr Gum and the Biscuit Billionaire was shortlisted for the Guardian Children’s Book Prize.
PRAISE FOR MR GUM:
‘Funny? You bet . . . Worryingly splendid.’ Philip Ardagh, Guardian
‘We laughed so much it hurt.’ Sophie, aged 9
‘This is a riot, it is hilarious, it is brilliant . . . best book I’ve read in a long time, no matter what age it is for . . . Stanton’s the Guv’nor The Boss.’ Danny Baker, BBC London Radio
‘An irresistible, laughter-inducing romp.’ Sunday Times
‘A wickedly entertaining story.’ Bookseller
‘Funniest book I have ever and will ever read . . . When I read this to my mum she burst out laughing and nearly wet herself it is so funny.’ Bryony, aged 8
‘Weird, wacky and one-in-a-million.’ First News
‘When Mr Gum steps on an old slice of pizza . . . riding it like a cheese and tomato surfboard, my friend Ethan burst out laughing, and wanted me to read it to him again and again.’ Theo, aged 7
‘Bizarre imagery, bonkers jokes and a knack for eccentric characterisation make this a totally original read and Stanton a talent to watch.’ Daily Mail
‘This book is mad, the characters are mad and everything that happens is mad.’ Matthew Sharrington, 11, Sunday Express
‘Zings with originality, wit and ridiculousness.’ Scotland on Sunday
‘Cranks up children’s storytelling conventions to hilarious extremes.’ Jewish Chronicle
‘Designed to tickle young funny bones.’ Glasgow Herald