Ratburger

by David Walliams

  Beside the cages was a tank of cockroaches, with a sticker that simply read ‘Ketchup’.

  I’m so glad I never ate one of Burt’s burgers, thought Zoe. Even so, she still felt really sick.

  In the middle of the warehouse was a dirty old stepladder that led up to a massive machine. This must be his pulverisation machine! thought Zoe. It was old and rusty, and looked like it had been made out of bits from cars that had fallen apart, pieces of old freezers and microwave ovens. The whole thing was held together with sticky tape.

  As Zoe watched from underneath the van, Burt approached the machine.

  The main part of the contraption was a massive metal funnel, with a long conveyor belt leading from underneath it. A huge wooden rolling pin hovered over the belt. Next, metal arms that could have been parts of old food mixers stood ready at the side. On the end of the arms were round metal tubes that looked like sawn-down sections of old piping, or perhaps even parts of a lorry exhaust pipe.

  If the noise of the squeaking rats was deafening, it was nothing compared to the sound of the machine.

  As soon as Burt walked over and pulled the lever on the side to turn it on (which was actually an arm from a shop window dummy), the metal grinding noise easily drowned out the squeaks. The whole machine rattled as if it was about to fall to pieces.

  Zoe spied on Burt as he trundled over to a cage of rats. Bending down, he picked it up – there must have been a hundred rats inside, could Armitage be one of them? – and plodded over to the stepladder, moving gingerly because of the weight. Slowly but surely he climbed up the ladder, one step at a time. At the top he paused for a moment, wobbled slightly and then smiled a sickening smile. Zoe wanted to call out to stop him, but didn’t dare reveal herself.

  Then Burt lifted the cage above his head and tipped the rats into the machine!

  They tumbled through the air to their certain death. One little rat, not much bigger than Armitage, clung on to the cage for dear life. With a sickening laugh the evil man prised its little claws off the metal, and it plunged down and down into the machine. There was then a hideous crunching sound. He really did pulverise them! Out of the bottom of the machine poured some minced meat. The meat was then flattened by a huge wooden roller, before the arms plunged down repeatedly on to the conveyor belt and chopped the meat into patties. The patties then trundled along the belt before falling into a filthy cardboard box.

  Now Zoe really did want to vomit.

  Burt’s terrible secret was out.

  Can you guess what Burt’s secret was, reader? I should hope so: there is quite a big clue in the title of this book.

  Yes. He was turning rats into burgers!

  Maybe, reader, you have even eaten one yourself without even knowing…

  “Nooooooooooooooo!” screamed Zoe. The little girl couldn’t help it, but disastrously she had given herself away…

  a ha ha!” said Burt, not laughing.

  He paced towards Zoe, his nose twitching in her direction. Now Zoe was afraid that, like the rats, she too was in mortal danger.

  “Come out, little girl!” shouted the man. “I could smell you in the van. I have an extremely strong sense of smell. For rats, but also for children!”

  Zoe rolled out from under the van and ran to the door of the warehouse, which she could see even from here was shut and locked. Burt must have closed it after driving in. The cruel man walked slowly behind her. That Burt didn’t bother to run made him all the more terrifying – he knew she was trapped.

  Zoe looked over at the cages of rats. There must be thousands of the poor creatures stacked up in there. How on earth would she find little Armitage among them? She would just have to set them all free. However, right now the prodigious rat killer was striding towards her, his nose twitching more and more feverishly with every step.

  Not taking her eyes off him, Zoe felt her way along the wall to the huge sliding door, and started fumbling with the padlock, desperate to escape.

  “Get away from me!” she shouted, her fingers fumbling ever more frantically to open the door.

  “Or what?” wheezed Burt, edging closer and closer. He was so close now she could smell him.

  “Or I will tell everyone about what you are doing here. Turning rats into burgers!”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Yes, you will,” said Burt.

  “No, I won’t!”

  “Ha!” said Burt. “Got you! I knew you were trouble that day in your flat. That’s why I let you climb into the back of my van and come into my secret lair.”

  “You knew I was there all along?”

  “Oh yes, I could smell you! And now I am going to turn you into a burger. That’s what evil children get for sticking their little noses in other people’s business.”

  “Noooooo!” Zoe screamed, still desperately trying to open the old rusty padlock. The key was still in it, but it was so stiff that, try and try as she might, it just wouldn’t turn.

  “Ha ha,” Burt wheezed. “My very first childburger!!!”

  He reached out to grab her – she dodged out of the way but his big hairy hand grasped a clump of her frizzy ginger hair. Zoe flailed her arms around, trying to get the rat catcher to release his grip. Now his other hand had slammed down on to her shoulder, and was holding it tight.

  Zoe slapped him hard across the face, and his dark glasses flew into the air and on to the ground.

  “NO!” shouted Burt.

  Zoe looked up at his eyes, but they weren’t there.

  Where his eyes should be, Burt had only two empty, blacker-than-black sockets in his face.

  “AAAAAAAA RRRRGGGGHH!” screamed Zoe in terror. “You have no eyes?!”

  “Yes, child, I am completely blind.”

  “But… you don’t have a dog or a white stick or anything.”

  “Don’t need them,” said Burt proudly. “I’ve this.” He tapped his nose. “This is why I am the greatest rat catcher in the world, even of all time.”

  Zoe stopped struggling for a moment. She was frozen in terror. “What? Why?”

  “Because I have no eyes, my dear, I have developed an acute sense of smell. I can smell a rat from miles away. Especially a cute little baby one like yours.”

  “But… but… but… you drive a van!” spluttered Zoe. “You can’t drive if you are blind!”

  Burt smiled, showing off his filthy false teeth. “It is perfectly easy to drive with no eyes. I just follow my nose.”

  “You’ll kill someone!”

  “In the whole twenty-five years since I have been driving, I have only run over fifty-nine people.”

  “Fifty-nine?!”

  “I know, it’s nothing. Some I had to reverse over to finish them off, of course.”

  “Murderer!”

  “Yes, but if you don’t declare them, the insurance company lets you keep your no-claims bonus.”

  Zoe stared into the deep dark pools in his face. “What on earth happened to your eyes?” She knew that some people were born blind, of course, but Burt actually had no eyes at all.

  “Many years ago, I used to work in an animal laboratory,” began Burt.

  “A what?” interrupted Zoe.

  “Doing experiments on animals and that for medical research. But I used to stay late and do my own little experiments!”

  “Like what?” asked Zoe, feeling sure the answer would be something grisly.

  “Pulling wings off daddy-longlegs, stapling cats’ tails to the floor, hanging bunny rabbits on a clothes line by their ears, just a bit of fun.”

  “Fun?”

  “Yes, fun.”

  “You are sick.”

  “I know,” replied Burt proudly.

  “But that still doesn’t explain why you have no eyes.”

  “Be patient, child. One night I stayed very late at the laboratory; it was my birthday and as a special treat I had pl
anned to dunk a rat in a bath of acid.”

  “No!”

  “But before I could dip the little thing in the liquid, the vile creature bit my hand. Hard. The same hand I was using to hold the dish of acid. The bite made me flick up my hand in pain and the acid flew up into my eyes, burning them out of their sockets.”

  Zoe was speechless at the horror of it all.

  “Ever since then,” continued Burt, “I have pulverised every rat I could get my hands on. And now I will have to do the same to you, since you have stuck your nose into my business, like a little rat yourself.”

  Zoe thought for a moment. “Well,” she said defiantly, “it seems to me like you got your just desserts.”

  “No, no, no, my dear,” said Burt. “On the contrary. I am going to get my dessert just now. When I eat you!”

  ith one hand still on the padlock, Zoe finally managed to turn the key. She yanked her head over her shoulder and, taking her cue from the rat in the laboratory, she sank her teeth into Burt’s arm as hard as she could.

  “OOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!!!” shouted the malevolent man, and in a reflex reaction his huge hand jumped off her tiny shoulder, yanking out a large clump of her ginger hair. Zoe flung the huge metal door of the warehouse open and ran out into the industrial estate.

  The place was deserted, with sickly streetlights illuminating a wide street of empty, cracked concrete. Weeds grew out of the cracks.

  Not sure of where to go, Zoe just ran. Ran and ran and ran. She was running so fast she thought she would trip over her own legs. All she thought about was putting as much distance between her and Burt as she could. The warehouse was so huge though, that she was still not outside of it yet.

  Without daring to look back she could hear the van’s engine starting up, and Burt grinding it into gear. Now Zoe was being pursued by a blind man driving a van. Finally she turned around and saw the van completely miss the open door, and crash out of the wall of the warehouse…

  CCCCCCCCCCC CCCCCCCCCCCC CCCRRRRRR RRAAAAAASSSSS SSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! The impact didn’t stop it. Instead the van sped faster and faster towards her.

  Squinting, Zoe could just see the dark holes where Burt’s eyes had once been behind the windscreen. Just below them his nose was twitching feverishly, his smell radar clearly tuned to its ‘SMALL GINGER GIRL’ setting.

  The van was heading straight for her and travelling faster and faster by the second. Zoe had to do something or she would be roadkill.

  And fast.

  She darted to the left, and the van lurched to the left too. She rushed to the right, and the van careered to the right. Behind the steering wheel, Burt’s evil grin widened. He was speeding closer and closer to making his first Small-ginger-girl-burger.

  Soon, the van lurched into a high gear and started gaining on Zoe, who was running as fast as her little legs would carry her. Ahead, she spotted some bins, with a pile of long forgotten rubbish bags piled up beside them. Her mind was racing faster than her legs, and she came up with a plan…

  Zoe jumped over to the bins, and picked up a particularly heavy sack. As the van hurtled towards her, she threw the bag at the bonnet of the van. As it struck, she let out a blood-curdling scream, as if she had been run over.

  “AAAAARRR GGGGHHHH!!!!!!”

  Burt then slammed the van into reverse, no doubt thinking he would run her over one more time to make sure she was dead.

  As the engine screamed, so did Zoe. The van reversed over the sack.

  Then Burt leaped out of his van, and his nose twitched as he tried to locate what he believed was the small girl’s body. Meanwhile, the small girl in question tiptoed off and crawled under a wire fence into a wasteland, and kept running and didn’t turn back.

  After her body could run no more, Zoe jogged, and after it could jog no more, she walked. As she walked she thought long and hard about what she should do next. Zoe had witnessed a blind man who drove a van making burgers out of rats. Who would believe her? Who would help her? She needed someone to help her. There was no way she could take on Burt on her own.

  A teacher? No. After all, she was suspended from school and forbidden to return. The headmaster would expel her on the spot if she returned.

  Raj? No. He was terrified of rats. He ran down the street in panic when he saw a baby one. There was no way she could get him to step one foot inside the warehouse, with thousands of rats inside.

  The police? No. They would never believe Zoe’s incredible story. She would be just another girl from the rough estate, suspended from school, and now lying to get herself out of trouble. Since Zoe was so young, the police would march her straight home to her wicked stepmother.

  There was just one person who could help her right now.

  Dad.

  It was a long time since he had been a proper father to her, since he had come home and given her extraordinary ice creams to taste, or played with her in the park. But Sheila was wrong, Dad did love her, he always did. He just became so sad he couldn’t show it any more.

  Zoe knew where to find him.

  The pub.

  There was a massive problem. It is against the law for children to go into pubs.

  oe’s dad went to the same boozer every day, a flat-roofed pub on the edge of the estate, with the cross of St George hanging above the door and a ferocious-looking Rottweiler tied up outside. It was not a place for little girls. Indeed, the law said that only those over sixteen were allowed inside.

  Zoe was twelve. Even worse, she was small for her age, and looked younger.

  ‘The Executioner & Axe’ was the name of the pub, and it was even less welcoming than it sounded.

  Carefully stepping round the Rottweiler outside, Zoe peered in through the cracked window of the pub. She saw a man who looked like her dad sitting alone, slumped over a table, a half-full pint glass in his hand. He must have simply fallen asleep in the pub. She banged on the cracked window, but he didn’t budge. Zoe knocked harder this time, but Dad did not rise from his slumber.

  Now, Zoe had no choice but to break the law and go in. She took a deep breath, and stood up on her tiptoes to make herself a bit taller, though there was zero chance anyone would think she was old enough to be in there.

  As the door swung open, several fat bald blokes wearing England football shirts looked round, and then down to Zoe’s height. The pub was barely a place for women, let alone girls.

  “Get out of ’ere!” shouted the ruddy-faced landlord. He also had a bald head, framed by some wisps of hair at the side and a ponytail. There was a tattoo on his head that said WEST HAM. Actually it didn’t – it said MAH TSEW. He had obviously done it himself in front of a mirror because it was all backwards.

  “No,” said Zoe. “I need to get my dad.”

  “I don’t care,” barked the landlord. “Out! Out of my pub!”

  “If you chuck me out I will report you to the police for allowing underage drinkers in here!”

  “What the blazes do you mean? Who?”

  Zoe took a sip of an old toothless man’s pint from a nearby table. “Me!” she said triumphantly, before the disgusting taste of the alcohol permeated her tongue and she felt suddenly more than a little sick.

  The ruddy-faced man with the ponytail was evidently quite befuddled by this logic, and fell silent for a moment. Zoe approached her dad’s table.

  “DAD!” she shouted. “DAD!!!”

  “What? What’s going on?” he said, waking up with a start.

  Zoe smiled at him.

  “Zoe? What on earth are you doing here? Don’t tell me your mum sent you?”

  “She’s not my mum and no she didn’t.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “I need your help.”

  “With what?”

  Zoe took a deep breath. “There is a man in a warehouse on the edge of town who, if we don’t stop him right now, is about to turn my pet rat into a burger.”

  Dad looked entirely unconvinced, and pulled a face suggesting his daughter
had gone more than a little loopy. “Pet rat? Burgers? Zoe, please.” Dad rolled his eyes. “You’re pulling my leg!”

  Zoe looked her father in the eye. “Have I ever lied to you, Dad?” she said.

  “Well, I, er…”

  “This is important, Dad. Think. Have I ever lied to you?”

  Dad thought for a moment. “Well, you did say I would find another job…”

  “You will, Dad, trust me. You just have to never give up.”

  “I have given up,” said Dad sadly.

  Zoe looked at her father, so beaten by life. “You don’t have to. Do you think I should just give up on my dream of having my own performing animal show?”

  Dad frowned. “No, of course not.”

  “Well, let’s make a deal that neither of us will forget our dreams then,” said Zoe. Dad nodded uncertainly. Then she pressed the advantage. “And that’s exactly why I need my rat back. I’ve been training him – he can do so many tricks already. He’s going to be amazing.”

  “But… a warehouse? Burgers? It all sounds a bit far-fetched.”

  Zoe stared deep into her father’s large sad eyes. “I am not lying to you, Dad. I promise.”

  “Well, no, but—” he spluttered.

  “There are no buts, Dad. I need your help. Now. This man threatened to turn me into a burger.”

  A look of horror crossed her father’s face. “What? You?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not just the rats?”

  “No.”

  “My little girl? Into a burger?”

  Zoe nodded, slowly.

  Dad rose from his chair. “The evil man. I’ll make him pay for that. Now… let me just have just one more pint and then we’ll go.”

  “No, Dad, you need to come now.”

  Just then Dad’s phone rang. The caller’s name flashed up on the screen. It read ‘Dragon’.