Future Ratboy and the Invasion of the Nom Noms

by Jim Smith

  First published in Great Britain 2016

  by Jelly Pie an imprint of Egmont UK Ltd

  The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

  Text and illustration copyright © Jim Smith 2016

  The moral rights of the author-illustrator have been asserted.

  First e-book edition 2016

  ISBN 978 1 4052 6915 5

  eISBN 978 1 7803 1435 8

  www.futureratboy.com

  www.egmont.co.uk

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

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Copyright

  Title Page

  CHEESE-BLEURGHER MEAL DEAL

  WHAT WAS WRITTEN ON THE FLOATY NOTE:

  INSECTY RECTANGLE

  FULL-STOP NOSE BLOB

  CUP NOSE

  WHAT I WAS GASPING ABOUT

  WHO IS MR X?

  THREE-HEADED DOG

  TINDERBOX ALLEY

  INSIDE THE SHOP

  HARRY NO-HANDS

  NINE HUNDRED BILLION POUNDS

  TRIPPING OVER HOVER-POOS

  GIANT ALIEN RAINDROP

  ROBOT WAITER

  WHEELIE THE WAITER

  RUN FOR IT

  NOT BIRD’S LUNCH

  THE OLD PLAYGROUND

  THE WISE OLD VENDING MACHINE

  ANCIENT GIANT WORM TUNNELS

  SOMETHING X BURGERY GOING ON

  GIANT WORM

  INSIDE THE GIANT WORM

  MANHOLE COVER

  JAMJAR WORKS IT OUT

  JAMJAR EXPLAINS WHAT SHE’S WORKED OUT

  OPERATION SHNOXVILLE

  SEE-THROUGH WHEELIE

  IT’S NOT THE STONK

  NOT THAT EITHER

  OK, THIS REALLY IS IT

  ORDERING HEDGEHOG COLA

  MR X ARRIVES

  THE NOM NOM QUEEN

  NO MORE NOM NOMS

  COME BACK WHEELIE!

  BACK IN BUNNY DELI

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PRAISE FOR MY OTHER BOOKS

  Back series promotional page

  Probably the best thing about getting zapped millions of years into the future and turned into a superhero rat is that I don’t have to go to school any more. (Kids don’t go to school in the future.)

  ‘What’ve you got planned for today, kiddywinkles?’ said Bunny one mornkeels, peering out the window at Shnozville High Street.

  I was sitting in Bunny Deli with my best friends Twoface, Jamjar and Splorg. Oh yeah, and my sidekick Not Bird too.

  ‘Oh not much, probably just gonna hang around here eating cheesebleurghers,’ said Splorg.

  A cheesebleurgher is a cheeseburger that goes ‘BLEURGH!’ when you bite into it, by the way.

  ‘Good idea, Splorgy Baby!’ said Twoface, his two faces grinning. ‘Four Cheesebleurgher Meal Deals for me and my pals please, Malcolm!’ he shouted.

  ‘Coming right up!’ said Malcolm, the official Bunny Deli Smellnu, and four Cheesebleurgher Meal Deals fizzled to life in front of our eyes.

  A Smellnu is a floating menu, invented by Jamjar. It lets you smell the things that’re on it, in case you didn’t know.

  Oh yeah, and a Cheesebleurgher Meal Deal is a cheesebleurgher, a packet of zigzaggedy-shaped chips and a cup of whatever drink you were thinking of at the exact billisecond the meal fizzled to life.

  Jamjar sniffed her drink.

  ‘YUCK, Hedgehog Cola! Why do I ALWAYS think of Hedgehog Cola?’ she said, throwing her cup towards Dennis, the official Bunny Deli bin.

  ‘Ooh, I’ll have that!’ said Bunny, shooting one of her ten arms out and catching the Hedgehog Cola before it landed in Dennis.

  ‘Couldn’t do me a favour could you, gang?’ she said, sipping on the drink, and we all nodded but didn’t say anything, because our mouths were full of cheesebleurghers.

  ‘Here’s a list with a few bits I need from the shops,’ she smiled, and a glowing yellow square with scribbly writing on it floated up from the counter and hovered next to her face.

  ‘Ah, glad to see you’re using my latest invention, Bunny!’ smiled Jamjar. ‘The Floaty Note 6000!’

  ‘Ooh, it’s ever so useful!’ said Bunny, patting Jamjar on the head.

  The shopping list wafted over to Twoface’s two faces, and he squinted his four eyes, trying to read what was on it.

  ‘What kind of boring old shopping list is that?’ said Twoface.

  Bunny held all her fingers up and gave them a waggle. ‘You’d be surprised how quickly that stuff runs out when you’ve got ten hands, Twoface!’ she chuckled.

  She took another sip of Hedgehog Cola and peered back out the window at Shnozville High Street. ‘Where IS everyone? It’s been quiet in here all morning.’

  A car floated past while a dog did a hover-poo on the pavement. ‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ she said. ‘Nobody seems to want a Cheesebleurgher Meal Deal today . . .’

  ‘Apart from us, Bunny!’ I said to make her feel better. I took a sip on my avocado and felt-tip pen flavour soda, and the two little television aerials that’ve been sticking out of my head ever since I got zapped into the future did a wiggle.

  The little black-and-white TV on my stomach started to fuzz and crackle, and Splorg peered at the screen.

  ‘YOINKS! What’s that weird-looking flying thing on your telly belly, Ratboy?’ said Splorg, and I looked down at my stomach.

  A hairy pointy-toothed insecty rectangle about half the size of Not Bird was flying straight towards the screen, as if it was about to burst out of my belly.

  ‘Looks like something’s up!’ said Bunny, and I nodded, doing my superhero face, because whenever something flashes up on my telly belly, it means there’s trouble.

  All of a sudden, a bitey-looking insecty rectangle exackeely the same size as the one on my telly belly flew straight through the door of Bunny Deli.

  ‘Hairy flying thing!’ blurted Splorg, who’s scared of hairy flying things. ‘Argh! Keep it away from me!’ He jumped out of his chair and ran into the little bathroom at the back of Bunny Deli. ‘Has it gone yet?’ he whimpered from behind the door.

  The insect, which was pink and had a long curly nose, buzzed towards Jamjar’s nostrils and opened its mouth. ‘NOM NOM!’ it growled.

  ‘Arrrgh! Shoo, you annoying little beast!’ said Jamjar, waggling her five arms in the air. ‘Stop trying to bite my nose!’ She picked up a zigzaggedy chip and waved it like a sword.

  The chip bonked the insect on the head and it twirled round, darting in the direction of Not Bird’s beak.

  ‘NOT!’ growled Not Bird, doing his scariest face, and the insect changed its mind, did a loop the loop and headed for the ratty full-stop blob on the end of MY nose.

  ‘Waaah, not my full-stop nose-blob!’ I cried, half trying to make everyone laugh, half a tiny bit scared the insect was about to bite it off.

  The insect landed on the blob and opened its mouth, the way something does when it’s about to bite someone’s nose off.

  I shouted in my superhero voice, flicking the insect,
and it flew through the air and landed splat in the middle of Twoface’s four eyes.

  The insect shook its head and blinked, looking like it was working out which one of Twoface’s two noses to bite first. ‘NOM NOM!’ it cackled, scuttling down towards the nostrils of the left one.

  ‘Get off me you stupid little hairy pink rectangle!’ growled Twoface, trying to sound like he wasn’t scared.

  ‘Ooh, what a lot of fuss and bother!’ chuckled Bunny, walking back over to our table, still holding the cup of Hedgehog Cola.

  The insect paused, its jaws wide open. Its eyes swivelled round to look at Bunny, and its long curly nose did a sniff. ‘NOM NOM?’ it squeaked, leaping off Twoface’s left nose and flying out of Bunny Deli.

  Twoface patted his hood-wings down and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘See – nothing to worry about!’ he said.

  ‘H-how did you do that, Bunny?’ said Splorg, poking his gigantic bald blue head round the bathroom door.

  ‘Maybe he didn’t like my perfume!’ chuckled Bunny. ‘Now, about that shopping list,’ she said, and she nodded at the Floaty Note 6000.

  ‘What in the name of unkeelness are you doing with your cup, Splorg?’ said Twoface, slurping on his drink.

  It was ten minutes later and we were walking down Shnozville High Street, following the Floaty Note 6000 to get Bunny’s bits.

  That’s one of the keel things about Floaty Note 6000s. They’re not just floating shopping lists – they know the way to the shops, and loads of other things too.

  ‘I’m protecting my hooter from that horrible little insect!’ said Splorg, who’d slotted his empty cup over the end of his nose. ‘Mmm, carpet flavour lemonade – smells even better than it tastes!’

  Twoface thought for a second, then pulled a plastic ray-gun-shaped water pistol out of his pocket. ‘Hey, I’ve just had the keelest idea!’ he said.

  He emptied the rest of his drink into a little hole in the top of the ray gun and slotted his empty cup on to the end of one of his noses.

  He looked over at my cup and grinned. ‘Don’t mind if I borrow this do you, Ratboy?’ he said, snatching my avocado and felt-tip pen flavour soda and pouring the last gulp’s worth down a passing drain (drains move around in the future, in case you didn’t know).

  ‘Hey, I was enjoying that!’ I said, kicking Twoface up the bum as he slotted the cup over the end of his other nose.

  Jamjar pushed her big round glasses up her nose and rolled her eyes at us all.

  ‘Ooh look, it’s Dr Smell!’ she said, waving down the street at Dr Smell, who was sweeping the bit of pavement in front of his perfume shop.

  Dr Smell’s perfume shop is where Bunny buys her favourite perfume, ‘Stonk’.

  ‘Hello Dr Smell!’ said Jamjar, and Dr Smell waggled his arms around, swatting the end of his nose.

  ‘That’s a weird way to wave,’ said Twoface, squirting his ray gun into his mouth. ‘Mmm, walnut and pavement flavour chocolate milk, my favourite!’ he grinned.

  I Future-Ratboy-zoomed my eyes in on Dr Smell and gasped.

  ‘Dr Smell isn’t waving – he’s trying to swat one of those insecty things away from his nose!’ I said.

  Splorg stared at the insect, which was blue this time and even bitier-looking than the one before. ‘ANOTHER NOM NOM? IT’S AN INVASION!’ he screamed, running off and hiding behind a bollard.

  ‘NOT!’ screeched Not Bird, following him like a Floaty Note 6000, except brown and circle-shaped and more furry.

  Twoface pointed his ray gun in the direction of the insect. ‘Stand back, Dr Smell!’ he shouted. ‘Take THIS, you naughty little NOM NOM!’

  A jet of walnut and pavement flavour chocolate milk squirted past Dr Smell’s ear at the exact same second the Nom Nom sunk its teeth into the tip of his nose.

  screamed Dr Smell.

  ‘NOM NOM!’ growled the Nom Nom, and before you could say a word that takes about three seconds to say, it’d pulled its teeth back out of Dr Smell’s nose and buzzed off.

  ‘Nice shot, Twoface!’ I laughed, as Jamjar ran up to Dr Smell.

  ‘Are you all right, Dr Smell?’ she said, peering at two tiny little bite marks just above his nostrils.

  ‘I-I think so, Jamjar,’ stuttered Dr Smell, dabbing his nose with a hanky. ‘Not very lucky with this thing, am I?’ he said, pointing at his hooter, and I rewound my brain to a few weeks earlier, when his nose had been chopped off and stolen by the evil Mr X.

  Here are some factoids about Mr X:

  1. He is the evilest man in Shnozville.

  2. He stomps around town inside a giant metal scorpion, zapping stuff with its tail.

  3. He zapped the wheelie bin that transported me here from the past, and now it’s disappeared, which means I might never get back home.

  ‘Any luck finding your bin, Future Ratboy?’ asked Dr Smell, stuffing his hanky back into his pocket, and I stared at the bite marks above his nostrils, thinking how they looked a bit like eyebrows. If his nostrils had been eyeholes. And the bite marks had been hairy.

  ‘No, we haven’t been able to find it at all,’ I said sadly, imagining my mum and dad and little sister sitting on the sofa at home, wondering where I was.

  Twoface kicked me up the bum, but in a nice way, and Jamjar pulled a turquoise plastic triangle out of her jacket pocket. She tapped it with one of her loads of fingers.

  ‘I’ve been trying to locate Ratboy’s bin with my Triangulator,’ she said, looking down at the triangle. ‘It seems Mr X’s lasers discombobulated the bin’s internal metrics. I reset the Triangulator’s homing modules, but even that didn’t do the trick!’

  ‘I see . . .’ said Dr Smell, his eyes staring blankly in front of him like he was watching TV, and the Floaty Note 6000 did a little cough to remind us about Bunny’s shopping.

  ‘Anywaaay . . .’ said Twoface, squirting another splurt of walnut and pavement flavour chocolate milk into his mouth. ‘I’d love to stand around here all day talking about bins, but we’ve got hand care products to buy.’

  ‘Of course, don’t let me stop you having your fun!’ said Dr Smell, disappearing into his perfume shop, and we headed off down the street.

  I peered up at the sky, careful not to look at the suns. ‘Still can’t believe there are two suns here in the future!’ I said, and Twoface rolled his eyes because he still can’t believe that I still can’t believe there are two suns.

  Three Nom Noms – one yellow, one orange and one green – whizzed past on the other side of the street, stopping to bite a three-headed dog on its noses.

  ‘They’re everywhere!’ whimpered a voice from behind a bollard and I spotted Splorg’s cup-covered nose, sticking out like a sore thumb. Actukeely, not at all like a sore thumb. More like a nose with a cup stuck over the end of it.

  I ran over to the bollard and jumped on top of it, Future-Ratboy-zooming my eyes around, trying to see where all the Nom Noms were coming from.

  The two suns were shining in my eyes, and all I could see was a sky full of annoying-looking hairy rectangular silhouettes.

  squawked Not Bird, following the Floaty Note 6000, which had floated off down a tiny little side street.

  We followed the Floaty Note 6000 across the road and down the tiny little side street, waggling our hands in the air to protect our noses from all the Nom Noms.

  ‘Tinderbox Alley,’ said Twoface, reading what it said on a dirty old street sign. ‘Never been down here before . . .’

  The side street was about a centimetre narrower than the width of a hover-car, which meant there were no hover-cars going down it – only people. The buildings on either side zigzagged into the sky and each one had a tiny little shop at the bottom of it.

  A man wearing a back-to-front hover-cap, a baggy white F-shirt1 and really, really long shorts2 was walking down the middle of the road with his arms stretched out in front of him like a zombie and his nose twitching in the air.

  ‘Hey, I’ve seen him in Bunny Deli loads of times!’ said Jamjar,
pushing her glasses up her nose for the eight-millionth time that day, and I wondered why she didn’t invent a pair of glasses that didn’t slide down her nose.

  Just then an old lady in a hover-wheelchair vroomed past us, her eyes staring straight ahead.

  ‘Doesn’t she come into Bunny Deli sometimes too?’ said Twoface.

  Not Bird fluttered over to Splorg and landed on his head, which is something Not Bird likes to do.

  ‘WAAAHHH!!!

  NOM NOM!!!’

  screamed Splorg, running round in a circle like his ears were on fire. ‘Let’s get the keelness out of here!’

  ‘Calm down, Splorgy Baby, it’s only Not Bird!’ I chuckled, as the Floaty Note 6000 floated up to a dingy, closed-looking shop.

  ‘Harry’s Handy Hand Shop,’ said Jamjar, reading what it said on the sign above the door.

  ‘Quick, before we all get chomped!’ said Splorg, turning the handle, and the door creaked open.

  The shop was dark and smelt of doormats. Shelves sagged against the walls and I Future-Ratboy-opened my eyes extra wide, trying to see what was on them.