Alex Sparrow and the Really Big Stink E-Book

Jennifer Killick

• Herausgeber: Firefly Press Ltd
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: Alex Sparrow
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Seitenzahl: 221

Beschreibung

Alex Sparrow is a super-agent in training. He is also a human lie-detector. Working with Jess – who can communicate with animals – they must find out why their friends, and enemies, are all changing into polite and well-behaved pupils. And exactly who is behind it all. ALEX SPARROW is a funny, mid-grade novel full of farts, jokes and superhero references. Oh, and a rather clever goldfish called Bob. In a world where kids' flaws and peculiarities are being erased out of existence, Alex and Jess must rely on what makes them different to save the day.

Leseprobe

Contents

DedicationTitle Page1 The World According To Me2 Stuff Happened That Is Totally W-ear-ed3 What’s That Smell?4 Bossy Girls and Pigeon Poo5 Darth Daver: My Hero6 The Only Way To Be In Style Is To Block Your Ear Stink With A Rubbish Hat7 I Am The King Of Stealth. And Door Safety.8 I (Reluctantly) Become The Apprentice9 Banished10 Introducing Agent Bob11 She Wants To Eat Your Brain12 Hacking the Mainframe13 Into The Lipstick Lion’s Lair14 Jess vs Fortress15 I Become A PAL16 Mufti Mayhem17 We Hit The Bottom18 The Plan19 Jess Kicks Balls, Bob Slaps Face, And I Embarrass My Muma20 The AftermathAlex Sparrow and the Furry FuryAbout the AuthorAcknowledgementsCopyright

For my family: Stanley, Teddy, Mia, Helena, Luis and Dean, with all of my love.

1

The World According To Me

Have you ever wanted to be a secret agent? A bad-A, undercover, villain-busting super spy, like Nick Fury, the top dog at Marvel’s S.H.I.E.L.D. agency? Well, don’t get your hopes up – it takes a special kind of person and years of training to get that job. I’ve been working on it since I was four and up until a couple of months ago being accepted into S.H.I.E.L.D. still seemed a long way off. Sure, you can do a hundred star jumps a day to make you strong, and keep chasing the scabby cat from next door out of your garden to make you quick, but some spy skills are a bit harder to come by. For example, how can you tell if someone is lying? People lie all the time. Especially grown-ups – mums, dads, teachers – all of them. And I’m not just talking about the obvious lies, like pretending the battery is dead when you’re stuck in a boring queue and want to play games on their iPhone, or saying you did really well at sports day when you fell on your face and came last. No, this stuff goeswaydeeper. Grown-ups tell lies that you would never guess about: not in a million years. Maybe you’re thinking, ‘Well neither can you, bigmouth, so shut up and go back to your push-ups’. But I actually can. You want to know how? It’s classified information, Top Secret Agent Business, but if you promise to keep it to yourself, I’ll tell you.

First of all, let me explain how it started. I’m Alex, by the way, Alex Sparrow. I live at home with Mum, Dad, my little sister Lauren and our boring pet goldfish. I’m ten, in Year 6 at Cherry Tree Lane School. I’ve never minded school, and back then, when all this began, I was cruising along nicely. I was pretty much the leader of my group of friends (all boys, no girls, obviously) and we were really popular. Everyone wanted to hang around with us and people looked up to me, you know? Life was awesome, or at least I thought so at the time, until one night, when everything changed…

It was a warm September Friday and Mum and Dad were on one of their Date Nights (it’s an embarrassing, old-married-people thing). They got Donna to come over and babysit Lauren, and I had a nag-free evening to myself. I thought I’d take the opportunity to watch some hardcore PS4 gameplay clips on YouTube – the ones made by American dudes who swear all the time. My mum’s well hysterical about stuff like that and legs it across the room to slam down the lid of the laptop if anyone says anything even slightly bad, like ‘jeez’ or ‘shizzle’.Soannoying. Anyway, I was halfway through a super-intense walkthrough when, randomly, Superman’s theme song started playing and this pop-up appeared, surrounded by shooting stars and about a hundred emojis:

Now, I’m no idiot. I know these things are just cheap plastic rubbish, made in China. A complete rip-off. But for some reason, maybe because I was wired on Coke and Tangfastics, maybe because I’d been listening to too many American swear words, maybe because the Superman tune was making me feel like doing something daring, I had this urge to get it. I swiped Mum and Dad’s emergency credit card from its not-so-secret hiding place (they really need to re-think their kid-proofing techniques), agreed to the terms and conditions and bang. It was done.

What happened next was weirder still. The second I clicked ‘Send’, the home phone began to ring, which pretty much never happens, because who even uses a home phone these days? When I answered it, what sounded like a recorded message clicked on. A woman’s voice said: ‘Thank you for your purchase from The Professor’s Laboratory. Your lie detector will be with you before you know it. Good luck, Alex.’ As the message clicked off, I heard a loud crackle and what felt like a spark of electricity seemed to jump from the phone to my ear. It kind of jolted inside my head, like when you touch a metal door handle in a shop and get an electric shock, but much worse. It really hurt, but just for a second. I shouted some abuse into the phone but there was nobody there, so I hung up, wishing I’d left it for Lauren.

I did think it was all a bit strange, but then I started to get a headache so bad that I actually wanted to go to bed, whichneverhappens. I tucked myself in with some teacakes and a packet of ham, and fell asleep before I even had a chance to hide the wrappers under my pillow. That was the last time I went to sleep feeling like a normo; the final sleep before the start of the Really Big Stink.

2

Stuff Happened That Is Totally W-ear-ed

The next morning I went about my business as usual. Mum and Dad like a lie-in after their Date Nights, and when they finally come down, they’re all kissy, which is disgusting. I made Lauren some Cheerios and did myself some toast so I could be back in my room on the PS4 before they appeared.

Next thing, Mum walked in and said to Lauren, ‘Good morning, poppet, did Alex get you your breakfast?’

Lauren put on her baby face and said, ‘No, Mummy, he only maked his own breakfast.’

This is the weird part. As she told this flipping outrageous lie, something happened. I heard a low, buzzy noise, and the inside of my right ear kind of vibrated. It was like my ear was farting, I swear. Mum didn’t frown and Lauren didn’t do her usual ‘Urgh – disgustering!’ so I came to the conclusion that nobody else had heard it, though I thought I could detect a faint eggy whiff. I was a bit surprised. My ear had never farted before, in fact, my earholes were the only bodily openings which never made a peep. So I did what anyone would do – stuck my finger in and had a root around. Nothing there but wax.

Mum gave me her huffy look and poured Lauren a bowl of cereal. Lauren smirked. No respectable agent would let that sort of behaviour go unpunished, but as Mum was there, I’d need to be extra-sneaky in my quest for revenge.

I walked casually up to the tank where Lauren’s pet goldfish lived. I gently tapped the glass. ‘Don’t you think Miley looks a bit different, Mum? Sort of bigger, and oranger?’ Miley – the original Miley – had died. I knew this because it was sort-of-accidentally my fault: a science experiment gone wrong. Apparently, Red Bull doesn’t give goldfish wings. But nobody knew that I was responsible. I hadn’t seen the point in coming clean, as I’d learnt my lesson, was a better person for it, and nothing was going to change the fact that Miley was belly-up. But the next day, Miley was swimming around in her tank, though she didn’t look quite the same.

Mum shot a look at Lauren who was peering into the tank.

‘Why does Miley look different, Mummy?’

‘I don’t think Miley looks different … she’s just got a bit fat. Fish often get fatter in the winter, because they eat more to keep them warm.’

On hearing this frankly rubbish attempt at a lie, my ear trumped again – louder and with a definite pong. Just like before, nobody seemed to notice, though Mum and Lauren were very distracted by the goldfish catastrophe I was cleverly constructing.

‘Really?’ I asked, with my most innocent face on. ‘Do they change colour in the winter, too?’

‘Yes!’ Mum said, in a squeaky voice. ‘Goldfish are very festive. It’s their version of wearing a Christmas jumper.’

Once again my ear rumbled.

‘It’s only September though, Mum.’ I felt quite sorry for her; Lauren was squinting at Miley and Mum was starting to panic.

‘This may sound crazy,’ I said, ‘but to me it looks like someone replaced Miley with another fish. Is that even possible?’

I looked at Mum. Lauren looked at Mum. Mum looked like she’d wandered into a nest of velociraptors.

‘No. Of course not. No. No. Not at all.’

A big, bubbly fart echoed inside my ear and the smell of poo filled the air. Lauren was looking from Miley Mark 2 to Mum and back again like she really wasn’t buying it. As she started screwing her face up for a full-on screaming fit, I took a brief moment to enjoy the results of my stealth-revenge-attack and then ran up to my room to think. I had a sneaky suspicion that something was up, but I needed expert assistance. I needed Google.

After fifteen minutes of thorough research on the web I had ruled out pretty much every ear-related lurgy I could think of. There was no pain or ‘discharge of mucus’ (yuck) which ruled out the worst ear illnesses. And there was no ear disease on the whole of the world wide web that involved a nasty stink. It was a bit freaky and, I’m not going to lie, I was scared. I even thought about calling an ambulance. Something stopped me.

My ear had farted every time someone told a lie. How was that possible? And was it just for today, or would I be able to keep doing it forever? For an agent-in-training, it was the perfect skill. It wasn’t even a skill. It was almost like a power. A slightly disgusting superpower.

I thought about the origins stories for all my favourite superheroes; many of them were normal guys, living boring lives, until the day a chance meeting or unfortunate accident gave them their powers and changed everything forever.

But I was already Agent Alex Sparrow, an epic bad-A with added swag. If anyone deserved a superpower, it was me. I really had to find out what was going on.

So, that’s how it started. No lie. Since then, a lot has happened. I was an idiot with it at first, swaggering around, thinking I could do anything I wanted. I had to learn the hard way that it isn’t so simple. ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ In my case, with a bit of power comes a lot of stink. And the trickiest thing about it all? Knowing that somebody is lying is not the same as knowing the truth.

3

What’s That Smell?

I went to school on Monday with a mission. I’d had most of the weekend to think about how I could use my power and I came up with loads of good ideas, most of which involved me ending up super-rich or flying a stealth jet to Moscow. Or both – preferably both. But first I was going to test my power on the people I knew. Imagine all the delicious, juicy stuff I could find out about my friends and teachers. I walked to school chuckling and rubbing my hands together, but only in my head because actually doing it would seem mental.

The moment I walked in the gates, I realised it wasn’t going to be that simple. Surrounded by hundreds of noisy, chatting kids, my ear was going off all over the place. Buzz after buzz after buzz. The trouble was, I couldn’t distinguish between conversations, let alone pick out the lies. And the smell, which hadn’t seemed that strong in my house – damn, it was bad. Luckily, in the middle of a crowd, it was easy to avoid being identified as the source.

I found my friends, Jason, Kyle and Ronnie, hanging out at the usual place round the back of the science garden.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ I said, in the manner of a young Tony Stark at an Avengers breakfast meeting. ‘I hope you all ate your Weetabix: something tells me it’s going to be an eventful day.’

‘What are you on about, Sparrow?’ Jason sneered at me.

‘Yeah, why do you always act so strange?’ Ronnie asked.

‘Alex likes to talk as if he’s in a comic. He thinks he’s a superhero.’ Jason again.

They all laughed. They laughed at me a lot, which I thought was a good thing. I’m a funny kind of guy, like Deadpool from X-Men but with less swears and violence. And now I had a power too.

Part of me wanted to tell them about it, but I knew that once I’d put it out there, I wouldn’t be able to take it back. Plus, Ronnie and Kyle had really big mouths and they’d spread it round the school in no time. Maybe I’d tell Jason later when the others weren’t around. He could be my sidekick!

‘I don’t think I’m a superhero,’ I said, which made my ear fart extra fartily, making me wonder if my own lies smelled worse than other people’s.

‘Yeah, whatever.’ Jason made a face. ‘What the hell is that disgusting smell?’

Luckily the bell rang for the start of school, so I didn’t have to try to answer. I didn’t realise it then, but those words were going to become like the soundtrack to my life, which was disappointing because I’d sort of hoped it was going to be ‘Uptown Funk’.

I used the morning PALS session to go over my plan. ‘What the flip is PALS?’ you’re probably thinking, just like we did when they told us we’d be doing it at school. Well, PALS stands for Positive Aspirational Life Skills and basically involves a lot of talk about ‘inner peace’ and ‘wellbeing’. The whole school had to attend a PALS session every morning after registration. They were run by the new teacher, Miss Smilie, and we had to sit in the school hall for ten minutes while they played boring music that nobody has ever heard of, ever, and put these videos up on big screens. The videos were pictures of dolphins and kids playing in the park, with words written over the top. Stuff like, ‘I am a happy, healthy and productive member of the school’ and ‘I radiate peace and positive energy’. They’re called affirmations and we’re supposed to repeat them to ourselves through the day. I know, a right load of rubbish, we all thought so too.

Miss Smilie took it all really seriously and walked up and down the room like a sentinel, trying to make us concentrate. If she caught anyone messing around she’d make them report to the PALS Suite at lunch. We liked to wait until she was looking the other way and say ‘bogeys’ or ‘bum’ as loud as we dared and watch her head whip round, her red smile flickering as she tried to work out who the culprits were. She was fighting a losing battle with this PALS business, if you ask me. There was no way she could make a bunch of kids want to meditate – it was a complete waste of time.

But that Monday I was happy to sit through it because it gave my ear ten minutes to chill out. I hadn’t been prepared for the mass of ear buzzing that being at school had caused: clearly everyone lies pretty much all of the time. If I was going to find out anything interesting I would have to separate people and interrogate them by themselves. It was going to be a long day.

I thought up loads of ways to speak to people one-on-one: going to the bin to throw my pencil sharpenings away whenever anyone else did, borrowing people’s rulers, getting tissues, and going to the toilet, hoping for a chance meeting with someone else trying to escape maths for a few minutes… I found out many interesting things by first break. Like that Mini Minnie in Year 3 really does have a purple belt in karate and that Big Bad Bhavi in Year 5 most definitely loves Taylor Swift.

Walking around school knowing that I knew things that nobody else did made me feel pretty good about myself. I maybe, possibly, kind of started to get a bit cocky.

It was a rainy day, so at breaktime, we had to stay in for wet play. I noticed Carrie-Anne Clarke putting PALS posters up on the noticeboards and I decided she would be my next target. She was one of those especially annoying girls who told the teacher if you were messing around in the lunch line or made a joke that involved wee or poo. She wouldn’t even say ‘wee’ or ‘poo’ because, according to her, it was ‘inappropriate’. She’d won Star of the Week twice already, and we’d only been back at school for three weeks. It would be brilliant if she had some shocking secrets.

‘Hi Carrie-Anne, I see you’re putting up some posters.’ It’s important to act casual when you are approaching a target. If you show any sign that you are about to probe them for information, you will spook them. I leant against the wall with the confidence of a young Thor looking over the puny Frost Giant army he is about to destroy.

‘Oh yes, helping hands make happy hearts.’

‘Then your heart must be super-happy – you’ve put posters pretty much everywhere.’

‘Sharing these wonderful affirmations is a gift I can give to everyone.’

So far, so loserish. Time to find out what she really thought. ‘Do you really love helping, though?’

‘Oh yes, of course.’

Not lying.

‘Even at break when the teachers who should be doing it themselves are probably just eating cake in the staffroom?’

‘Our teachers work hard to guide and nurture us. They deserve a break and our heartfelt thanks. Besides, putting up the posters gives me the perfect opportunity to re-read the affirmations.’

Still not lying.

‘What about these affirmations? “The only way to be in style is to dress your face up with a smile!” Do you agree?’

‘That’s one of my favourites.’ She beamed at me.

Unbelievably: not lying.

‘But what if you’re feeling sad?’

‘Why would I feel sad?’

‘What if someone stole yourFrozenbackpack?’ Girls loveFrozenmore than life.

‘Frozen’s just a silly fairy story. I gave that backpack to the charity shop and got a PALS one instead.’

Actually not lying. I couldn’t understand it.

Jason, Kyle and Ronnie came over and I thought I might as well give up on Carrie-Anne and do something less disappointing, like find out who stole my Pokemon card last term.

‘I’m happy that you’re so interested, Alex. If you like, you can help me with the rest of these posters,’ Carrie-Anne said, loudly enough that everyone heard. ‘As we work we can go through the affirmations and really think about what they mean. But first I’d like to offer you some advice: if you lean, you won’t look keen. You should probably straighten up.’

My mates started sniggering.

‘Hold on a bit, I’m not interested in putting up posters or learning affirmations.’

‘Then why were you asking so many questions?’

‘Yeah, Alex,’ Jason said, ‘why were you asking Carrie-Anne so many questions? You must really like affirmations or maybe you’re in love with Carrie-Anne.’

So embarrassing. Think, Alex. ‘I was asking questions because I’m making a film for my YouTube channel called “Ten Things That Suck”. PALS affirmations are at number eight and annoying girls are number one.’ Yeah, it was a mean thing to say and I felt bad. It was also a lie. My ear farted.

Carrie-Anne looked hurt. ‘Miss Smilie is on lunch duty today. I’m going to report your inappropriate behaviour, Alex Sparrow.’ She walked off.

‘Since when have you had your own YouTube channel?’ Jason was dying to make me look bad in front of everyone.

‘For ages, since that thing all that time ago, that was ages ago. At the time of that thing.’ Oh, poo.

Jason sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. And then Miss Smilie came into the room. Perfect.

Miss Smilie was always smiling, at least her mouth was always smiling, but not her eyes, which were too open and starey, like they were painted on. And her hair always stayed exactly the same, like a Lego person’s hair, even when it was raining, or windy. I reckon there could have been a hurricane and it wouldn’t move. She was like a weird, shiny, plastic person. And not in a good way.

‘Can anybody explain what has been going on here? I’ve been advised that people are disrespecting others and, if you can believe it, making fun of PALS! OMG, I thought, I must get the goss on this.’ She smared at us, which, if you didn’t know, is what happens when someone smiles and glares simultaneously.

‘I’m not sure, exactly, Miss,’ I said, ‘I was just offering to help Carrie-Anne put up posters and she somehow got the impression that I was being rude. I would never be rude about PALS, or Carrie-Anne because they’re both awesome.’ The fartiest fart exploded in my ear and a flipping terrible smell seeped into the classroom.

Miss Smilie sniffed and took a step away from me. ‘I’ll accept that this was a simple misunderstanding between chums. In fact, I’ll go and tell Carrie-Anne you’d like to help her with the posters. She’ll be positively thrilled. And you can all run along outside now. The rain’s stopped and I’m sure we could all do with some fresh air.’

She walked out of the room. Extremely quickly.

Jason was grinning in a way that made me very uncomfortable. ‘I’m Alex Sparrow: I love Carrie-Anne Clarke and I turn into a scared little girl when I see Miss Smilie,’ he said in a pretend girl’s voice.

‘Shut up, Jason.’

‘Serves you right. You’ve been acting weird and annoying all day. Not so smug now you’ve just been shown up by Smilie.’ He looked round at everyone else. I sensed this wasn’t going to end well for me. ‘To be honest, I think you must have pooed yourself, Sparrow, because you STINK!’

And then everyone started laughing – really laughing: jaw-aching, bent-over-holding-their-stomachs laughing.

Most super-agents would stand their ground: face the danger head on. But most super-agents didn’t smell like a mouldy dog poo. So I did the only thing I could do. I ran away to the one place I knew I could be alone.

4

Bossy Girls and Pigeon Poo

Let me just say that I have never, ever sat on the Friendship Bench before. It’s OK for the Reception kids to go there; they’re small and don’t know anything about life yet. But for a Year 6 kid to resort to the bench? It’s like wearing a sign saying: ‘Hey everyone, check me out – I’m a loser!’ But I was desperate and I stank like the boys’ toilets on curry Tuesdays.

I sat down on the cold, cold wood and leant forwards, trying to cover my face with my hands so no one would recognise me. What would Nick Fury do in this situation? If only I had a brilliant disguise – some glasses, a fake nose, maybe a moustache – I could conceal my identity while I found a way to get rid of my stupid ear power. I didn’t know exactly how I’d got it in the first place – possibly I’d breathed in a radioactive fart, or I’d been hit on the head by a meteor – the hows and whys hadn’t seemed that important when I was thinking up ways to use it for my own entertainment and great personal gain. I hadn’t realised it was one of those life-ruining lie-detectors you never hear about.

‘Hey, dude, you do realise you’re sitting on the Friendship Bench. Are you new or something?’ I looked up to find a girl from one of the other Year 6 classes standing over me. I was pretty sure her name was Jeff, but I’d never spoken to her because she was a bit weird. She was short, with messy blonde hair and blue eyes so bright that they looked like the infinity gem from Loki’s staff inAvengers Assemble. She had the standard school uniform on but it seemed kind of different on her, although I couldn’t work out why. Maybe it was because of the way she was standing, hands in pockets, her mouth doing this frowny-pouty thing, looking at me like I was the biggest moron on the planet. Her mistake, but I’d better own up.

‘It’s me, Alex Sparrow from 6C.’

‘So you’re not new?’

‘What do you mean “new”? You must recognise me. I’ve been at this school since nursery. I’m pretty popular.’

‘Maybe. You look kind of familiar.’

‘I was the angry badger in the nocturnal animals assembly.’

‘Don’t remember it.’

‘I won the best dancer award at the disco last year.’

‘Didn’t go.’

‘I hang around with Jason Newbold.’

‘Who?’

‘Jason Newbold. I’ve got a really big group of friends.’

‘Then why are you sitting on the Friendship Bench?’

‘You know, just relaxing, chillaxing…’

‘Well, can you do it somewhere else? I’m on bench duty, so if you sit here, I have to keep talking to you. It’s getting cold, there’s a weird smell and I don’t want to waste my time with someone who doesn’t need my help.’

So I still stink. But, more importantly, this girl has a serious attitude problem. ‘Jeez, maybe you should think about chilling out. I don’t exactly want to be talking to you either.’

‘Then get off the bench.’