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Brainwashed! Page 7


  The other text had just come through a few moments ago, though: “Mission accomplished?”

  Sam turned and took a photo of the frozen Priscilla, who was still being subjected to Jesse’s poetry. He sent it to Emmie and then slid the phone into his pocket.

  “Mission accomplished,” he said to nobody in particular, and with a skip in his step, Sam Saunders headed for home.

  * * *

  Top Five Uses for a Frozen Villain

  • Door stop

  • Garden gnome

  • Scarecrow

  • Climbing frame

  • Sled

  * * *

  CHAPER FOURTEEN

  Moths passed.

  Sorry, months passed. My mistake.

  The Goodes were thrown in jail, which Priscilla was actually quite happy about, because Jesse wasn’t allowed to visit (although he does still send her a new poem every week, bless his heart).

  The transmitter was torn down at great expense to the town, which meant there was no money left over to build a new Town Hall. With Sam’s help, though, Mr. Saunders was able to convince the townsfolk that they themselves could do the building work. After all, if they could build a state-of-the-art broadcasting antenna (although no one could quite remember why they had) then they could build a Town Hall!

  He was half right. The Town Hall was … unconventional, to say the least. No one had really bothered to plan the job out, and everyone had just set about using their own initiative.

  As a result, the Town Hall had one window and nineteen doors. It had three floors, but no stairs or elevator, and someone had nailed the roof on upside down.

  Yet no one seemed to mind, and everyone was bustling with barely contained pride when the ribbon was cut and it was declared open for business.

  But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s skip back to just before the opening ceremony, to when an even more important announcement was being made.

  The deputy mayor of Sitting Duck stepped onto his little wooden box, cleared his throat, and addressed the gathered audience.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the counting has been done and the results are in,” he said. “Sitting Duck has a new mayor—who hopefully won’t be trying to brainwash us anytime soon.”

  Behind the deputy mayor, the four candidates shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

  “In fourth place, with absolutely no votes on account of her not actually being in the election because she’s too young, Phoebe Bowles.”

  “Ha!” shouted Emmie from somewhere in the crowd. Phoebe’s face turned an unpleasant shade of purple and she stormed off in a huff.

  “Like, who cares about your stupid voting thing?” she scoffed, then she burst into tears and had to be led away gently by a nice woman.

  “In third place, with no votes … Tribbler the Dribb—Er, Miss Tribbler!”

  “This is a disgrace!” seethed Miss Tribbler, and half of the audience was immediately soaked to the skin.

  “In second place,” began the DM, then he paused for an agonizingly long time because he’d watched far too many TV talent shows and he was dragging it out as much as possible. “With zero votes, so it wasn’t actually a close run thing at all really, I just said that for dramatic effect.…”

  In the audience, Sam crossed his fingers. Arty and Emmie put their hands on his shoulders and held their breath.

  “Major Muldoon,” announced the DM. The crowd went wild, forcing him to shout to make himself heard over the clapping and cheering. “Meaning our new mayor by a unanimous landslide is Sam Saunders Senior!”

  “Yes!” yelped Sam Jr.

  “He did it!” whooped Emmie.

  “And without a hypno-ray in sight,” Arty cried.

  The DM stepped aside, allowing Mr.—sorry, Mayor Saunders to step up onto the box. The cheering rose in volume, and it took several minutes for it to die down enough for Sam’s dad to be heard.

  “Wow,” he said. “I … I don’t know what to say.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of typed notes. He looked them over, then scrunched them up and tossed them over his shoulder.

  “You see, I had a speech prepared just in case I won, but I seem to remember Mayor Goode being a big fan of speeches, and although I’m not entirely sure why, my instincts tell me I don’t want to be anything like him.”

  Another chorus of cheers went up. The memories of those who had been brainwashed were hazy at best, but they all remembered enough to know they weren’t fans of Dr. Goode, either.

  “I want us to put the past behind us and move forward together,” Mr. Saunders continued. “He wanted to be mayor to make things better for himself. I want to be mayor to make things better for all of us.”

  The DM handed Mr. Saunders a set of comically oversized scissors. Everyone watched in hushed excitement as he approached the ceremonial ribbon that had been strung between the least lopsided of the nineteen door frames.

  “We can accomplish incredible things together,” Mr. Saunders said. “Together we built this place, and together we can build a better Sitting Duck, one that will be disaster-free!”

  More cheering! More shouting! More other enthusiastic noises I can’t think of!

  “And so it gives me great pleasure to declare the new Sitting Duck Town Hall open for business!” Mr. Saunders announced. He smiled at the audience as a sea of cameras flash-flash-flashed. He raised the scissors. He snipped the ribbon.

  And the entire Town Hall folded in on itself like a house of cards.

  “Disaster-free, eh?” whispered Emmie.

  “The calamitous town of Sitting Duck?” Arty laughed.

  Sam grinned. “Yeah,” he replied. “Something tells me he may have spoken too soon on that one…”

  * * *

  Extract from the Sitting Duck Disaster Avoidance Plan

  In order to increase the likelihood of future disasters being averted in the future, it is recommended that in the future we learn from our mistakes and try to avoid the following:

  • Reanimating the dead.

  • Making our whereabouts known to aliens.

  • Accidentally building a massive brainwashing transmitter in the middle of town.

  Likewise, we should—in the future—make every attempt to avoid:

  • Summoning a demon.

  • Building a robot witch.

  • Angering cows.

  • Constructing a load of bombs, then later misplacing them.

  • Opening a doorway through time.

  • Designing a weather machine and programming it to hate us.

  • Losing our car keys.

  * * *

  * * *

  DISASTER DIARIES

  * * *

  ZOMBIES!

  Did you read the one about the zombies yet?

  No? Seriously?

  Well, okay, here’s a little bit of it as a treat … but you really should go read this other book immediately after.

  * * *

  How to Identify a Zombie!

  Think someone you know might secretly be a zombie? Here are some clues to watch out for.

  • Their face is hanging off.

  • They’re trying to eat you.

  • They smell like a granny’s armpit.

  • They walk like someone’s stolen their knees.

  • They moan a lot (and not about the state of your bedroom—that’s probably just your mom).

  • Flies follow them everywhere, and worms have parties in their hair.

  • Their eyes are really creepy (Emmie made me add this one).

  * * *

  * * *

  Hiding Places from Which to Launch a Sneak Attack

  Good:

  • Up a tree

  • Behind a bush

  • Around a corner

  Bad:

  • On top of a distant mountain

  • Beneath a giant illuminated arrow with “LOOK HERE!!” written on it

  • A raised platform su
rrounded by elephants, cheerleaders, and a brass band

  * * *

  * * *

  DISASTER DIARIES

  * * *

  ALIENS!

  Read on for a sneaky look at the disaster-defeating wisdom you don’t want to miss out on in the other book.…

  Sam, Arty, and Emmie have barely gotten over a recent zombie infestation when their sleepy little town finds itself the victim of an alien invasion!

  But the aliens are very small and kind of, well, cute—how dangerous can they be?

  SPOILER ALERT: They’re VERY dangerous. And when they disintegrate the mayor with their ray guns, it’ll be up to Sam, Arty, and Emmie to save the day. Again.

  * * *

  Defend Yourself From an Alien Sneak Attack

  So aliens have invaded your planet? Bummer. Don’t worry, I’ve put together this list of techniques you might want to put into use should one of those pesky invaders try to kill you in unpleasant ways. Be aware that some of these techniques will only be effective against specific alien races. While it is possible, for example, to tickle a member of the Fluffpuffle race into submission, this strategy will be somewhat less effective against the captain of a Venusian Death Fleet.

  • Tie up its tentacles when it isn’t looking.

  • Shoot it with a ray gun (note: requires ray gun).

  • Stuff cotton wool in its gills.

  • Tell it a difficult-to-understand joke.

  • Impale it on a massive spike (note: requires massive spike).

  • Bamboozle it with mirrors.

  • Feed it peanuts and hope it’s allergic.

  • Pretend you can’t see it and hope it goes away.

  * * *

  * * *

  Create a Disaster Survival Kit

  * * *

  What would you put in your own Disaster Survival Kit?

  Maybe, like Arty, a Bristly Brain Basher (aka toilet brush) is all you need to keep enemies at bay?

  Can you invent a more sophisticated form of weaponry using a toilet roll or an empty cookie tin?

  Or do you really just want some sweets and a clean T-shirt?

  Pack your bag for the apocalypse and keep it by the door in case of disaster!

  * * *

  DISASTER DIARIES

  * * *

  Zombies!

  Aliens!

  Brainwashed!

  About the Author and Illustrator

  R. McGeddon is absolutely sure the world is almost certainly going to probably end very soon. A strange, reclusive fellow—so reclusive, in fact, that no one has ever seen him, not even his mom—he plots his stories using letters cut from old newspapers and types them up on an encrypted typewriter. It’s also believed that he goes by other names, including A. Pocalypse and N. Dov Days, but since no one’s ever met him in real life, it’s hard to say for sure. One thing we know is that when an evil scientist takes over, he’ll be ready!. You can sign up for email updates here.

  The suspiciously happy, award-winning illustrator Jamie Littler hails from the mysterious, mystical southern lands of England. It is said that the only form of nourishment he needs is to draw, which he does on a constant basis. This could explain why his hair grows so fast. When he is not drawing, which is a rare thing indeed, he spends his time trying to find the drawing pen he has just lost. He is down to his last one.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Read them all!

  Excerpt from Disaster Diaries: Zombies!

  Excerpt from Disaster Diaries: Aliens!

  Create a Disaster Survival Kit

  Disaster Diaries

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Copyright

  Special thanks to Barry Hutchison

  Text copyright © 2014 by Hothouse Fiction Ltd.

  Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Jamie Littler.

  A part of Macmillan Children’s Publishing Group

  175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

  mackids.com

  All rights reserved.

  Imprint logo designed by Amanda Spielman

  First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016002099

  Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945 ext. 5442 or by e-mail at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First hardcover edition 2016

  eBook edition November 2016

  eISBN 9781250090928

  Take care, reader, of this book.

  Don’t tear or smudge the pages.

  For if you do, a curse will lay

  Upon your head for ages!