Lenny Lemmon and the Invincible Rat E-Book

Ben Davis

• Herausgeber: Nosy Crow Ltd
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: Lenny Lemmon
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 51

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Hilarious school-based comedy full of chaos, misadventures and mayhem! The perfect starter book for younger Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Tom Gates fans. "A hilarious, highly illustrated romp for readers of 6+" – The Guardian "A laugh-out-loud story of rodent mayhem. This book has it all!" – Lenny Lemmon (aka expert boredom buster) Join Lenny and his best friends Sam and Jess in their hysterical hijinks. Expect animals on the loose, paranormal invasions, shut down schools and lots of laughs! It's Olden Days Day and Lenny is determined his class will win the competition. In fact he is certain of it because he's brought in something special ... a RAT! (They totally had those everywhere in the olden times.) But what he wasn't banking on was it escaping and leaving small, gruelly footprints all over the classroom and A LOT of screaming (because Lenny's rat is ACTUALLY a wild rat found by the back of the chip shop). Can the three kids round up the rat before more damage is done? Or will they end up in the headmaster's office, again. Maybe, but one thing is for certain, they're going to need a bigger net! More from Lenny Lemmon: - Lenny Lemmon and the Alien Invasion - Lenny Lemmon and the Trail of Crumbs - Lenny Lemmon and the Doomed Safari "It is simply unbelievable the trouble this boy is capable of..." – Ms Bottley, 5B's Teacher

Leseprobe

OLDEN DAYS SCHOOL

“I wish you’d tell me what’s in that box,” says my best friend, Sam.

We’re standing in the playground waiting for Ms Bottley to let us in. That’s how we roll now we’re in Year Five. None of that waiting-with-Mum nonsense any more. They drop us off at the gate and that’s that. It’s a great system.

“Not a chance,” I say, gripping it tight. “It’s a surprise.”

Sam stands back a little and fidgets with his fingers. He always does that when he’s nervous. “But I thought I heard something moving in there,” he says.

I tut and shake my head. “You and your

Sam is wearing a blue cloth cap, with a grey waistcoat buttoned all the way up to his neck. He doesn’t always dress like that. The school asked us to come dressed up as kids from history. We’re doing a whole day in

That means old-fashioned lessons, no modern technology and the teachers act like teachers from hundreds of years ago. They reckon it’s a good way to get us to learn about history or something, but that’s not the important bit. You see, this isn’t just

this is

OK, maybe that’s being a bit dramatic. It’s more of a competition. But it is a very important competition. The Head, Mr Greenford, announced that whichever Year Five class does best at Olden Days School will win a PRIZE.

I glance across the playground at class 5A. They’re lined up PERFECTLY, in total silence. Well, they would be. After all, they’re

They always get PERFECT grades, they always show PERFECT behaviour, and at the Christmas assembly they all sing like PERFECT angels. It’s enough to make me want to throw up, to be PERFECTLY honest.

I can tell by the way they look down their noses at us in class 5B that they think they will TROUNCE us in this

competition, just like they TROUNCE us in sports, spelling, singing and everything else in the world. Well, not if I have anything to do with it. You see, I guarantee that no one else has brought in what I have. When Mr Greenford sees it, he will award us FIRST PRIZE straight away. To be honest, I don’t know what the PRIZE is, but the PRIZE isn’t important. The main thing is that we beat 5A for the first time ever.

“You think my uniform is OK?” says Sam, running a hand down his waistcoat. “I’ve gone for authentic Victorian.”

I would give him one of my trademark reassuring shoulder slaps, but I need both hands for the box. “Sam, you look straight out of Mary Poppins.”

Sam gasps and clamps his hands over his chest like he’s been shot. “But Mary Poppins is set in the Edwardian period!”

The classroom door opens and Ms Bottley stands there. She’s wearing a white bonnet and petticoat and her face is DEAD SERIOUS and STRICT, even though she’s not normally like that. This must be what teachers were like in the

“5A CAN LINE UP IN AN ORDERLY FASHION, SO WHY CAN’T YOU? DO IT NOW!” She yells so loud it makes Kieran Roscoe squeak like a startled hamster. “IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER.”

Now, hang on a second. No one seems to know whether she means alphabetical by first name or second name. My name is Lenny Lemmon so I’m in the middle no matter what, but Zoe Andrews is zipping up and down like

“BY YOUR SURNAMES!” Ms Bottley booms.

WOW. Why were teachers so LOUD in the

I stick behind Amelia Kelly and eventually we sort ourselves out. I see Sam near the head of the queue, standing up so straight he looks like he’s swallowed a rake.

Amelia, who is holding a tub of what looks to be sick, turns round and looks at my box. “What’s in there?” she asks, all snooty like normal.

“None of your beeswax,” I say, pulling it closer. “What’s in yours?”

“It’s gruel, like orphans used to eat. I made it myself,” she says, then sticks her tongue out.

“KELLY! FACE THE FRONT!” Ms Bottley yells.

I can’t help but snigger to myself. Amelia never normally gets told off. Maybe the

won’t be so bad after all.

“You may now enter the classroom and stand behind your desks,” says Ms Bottley. “IN SILENCE!”

Inside, everything is different. For one thing, the tables are all gone. I’m usually on Red table, with Sam, Hugo, Parvati and Lydia. Now there are only little desks that seat two, and there are name tags on each one and OH GREAT, I HAVE TO SIT NEXT TO AMELIA.

“Oh no,” she says.

I blow her a silent raspberry. I’m not exactly skipping for joy about it either.

It’s only then I notice a WEIRD thing by Ms Bottley’s desk. It’s a huge black square on a wooden frame. At the top of it, in white writing, it says “FRIDAY”.

“Hey, miss, what’s that?” I ask.

Ms Bottley shouts. “CHILDREN SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD!”

That sounds WEIRD. I’d rather it be the other way round. Like, being invisible but still having a LOUD voice. I’d go up behind my brother while he’s trying to do his stupid skateboard tricks and yell “BRANDON IS A STINKFACE” so loud he falls off.

Everyone is standing behind their chairs rather than just sitting down. Why? Why did

people think up all these WACKY rules? It would have been bad enough living in a time with no Xbox without all this added stress.

“If you must know,” says Ms Bottley, “this is a blackboard.”

Makes sense. It’s a board and it’s black. It looks old too. Hey, if it helps us win the PRIZE, I’m fine with it.

“How can you not know that?” Amelia whispers at me through the side of her mouth. “You’re so stupid.”

Before I can reply, Ms Bottley BARKS at us to sit down. She’s normally really nice, so this is WEIRD.

She picks up a tiny white stick and starts writing on the blackboard with it. It makes a

that makes my teeth itch.

Amelia frowns at my box, which I’ve carefully placed on the table. “That stinks,” she whispers.

“So do you,” I reply.

She kicks me under the table and I cry out.