Скачать книгу

more and more, and she got more and more and more.

      Myrtle had at least one thing for every letter of the alphabet:

image

      Ant farm. Home to a million and one ants.

      Boomerang that doesn’t come back. Myrtle lost that on her first throw.

image image

      Cowbell, which the girl put round her mother’s neck so she could locate her easily.

image

      Dog-grooming set. Even though she didn’t have a dog.

image

      Elf.

image

      Finger puppets of every king and queen of England from 1066 to the present day.

image

      Gravel collection. It was the biggest in Europe.

image

      Ham slicer. Even though she hated ham.

image

      Ice skates made for an elephant. Four of them.

image

      Jar containing one of scientist Albert Einstein’s burps.*

image

      Knee warmers.

image

      Lucky sausage. Actually it was unlucky.

      Map of Belgium. A country she had no intention of ever visiting as it was, in her words, “too Belgiumy”.

image

      Nelson’s Column made out of sultanas. Life-size.

image image

      Owl fudge. This is fudge made of melted-down owls. It is even more disgusting than it sounds.

image

      Painting of some air. It wasn’t much to look at.

image

      Quicksand. Children who came over for a playdate and ended up displeasing Myrtle met their doom in it.

image

      Remote-controlled hedge (which could reach speeds of up to one mile an hour).

image

      Stuffed flea. It was so small that it was impossible to see.

image

      Turnip shampoo. It made your hair smell “as fresh as a turnip”.

image

      Underpants for worms. Only come in size “small”.

image

      Venom from a poisonous aubergine. Deadly.

image

      Wombat juicer. Perfect for producing a cool, refreshing glass of wombat juice.

image

      Xylophone case. Myrtle didn’t want an actual xylophone, just the case for one.

image

      Yeti. It hasn’t been sighted in the Himalayan mountains for years because Myrtle kept it locked in her cupboard.

image

      zebra dung. It was the only thing she could think of that began with a “z”.

      One thing Myrtle didn’t have any of was books. Despite her parents being librarians, she DETESTED books and thought they were B-O-O-O-R-R-R-I-I-I-N-N-N-G-G-G!*

      The girl had all this stuff, a universe of junk, but still she wanted something more. The funny thing was that she just didn’t know what.

image

      Can you guess what Myrtle demanded for her tenth birthday? In the incredibly unlikely event that you guessed…

      A pair of exploding socks.

      A life-sized blue-whale bath toy. When it went in the bath, all the water spilled out.

image

      A balloon model of the Taj Mahal.

      A pencil un-sharpener.

      And a robot pea.

      …then congratulations. You were correct and win one pound.*

      Mr and Mrs Meek were forced to give their daughter all these things that she had demanded for her birthday. If they hadn’t, Myrtle would have howled the house down.

image

      “Happy birthday, our beautiful angel!” they called out as Myrtle lay in bed, ripping open the presents and throwing the scrunched-up balls of wrapping paper back at them.

      RUSTLE!

      DOINK!

      Moments later, she was demanding something more. What was unusual this time, though, was that the girl had absolutely no idea what that something should be. Myrtle had so many things that she couldn’t think of a single thing in the world she didn’t have.

      “I wanna FING!

image

      she announced over breakfast. The girl was scoffing a ginormous bowl of chocolate ice cream with seventeen chocolate flakes stuck in it, and an ocean of chocolate sauce on top. Yes, Myrtle had chocolate for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. Well, would you say no to her?

      Mr and Mrs Meek, who were dipping their neatly cut soldiers into boiled eggs, shared a worried look. A “FING”?

Скачать книгу