Jim Smith - Future Ratboy and the Attack of the Killer Robot Grannies

‘No need to be scared, little ratboy!’ smiled the man with thirteen eyes. Not that he was a man exactly, he was more of a man-sized fly.

His arms and legs had hairy spikes sticking out all over them, and on his back, neatly folded up like a see-through tablecloth, hung a giant pair of wings. Next to him was a woman-sized fly and two kid-sized ones.

‘My name isn’t Ratboy, it’s Colin Lamppost!’ I said, and the man-sized fly chuckled.

‘Very nice to meet you, Colin! My name is Dindle Frogshnoff, and I think I might be able to help you,’ he buzzed, shooting his hairy hand out to shake.

So I shook it.

Even though it was pretty scary looking.

But not as scary looking as a robot granny claw.

‘. . . and that’s how I ended up standing here talking to you!’ I said three hours later, once I’d told the Frogshnoff family my whole story.

‘Fascinating,’ yawned Dindle. ‘Now, as I said three hours ago, I think I might be able to help you – I was an orphan once too, you see . . .’ he buzzed, and my plug-tail twitched.

‘Hang on a millisecond, I’m not an orphan!’ I said, smoothing my nose-whiskers down with my tongue. ‘We’re just stuck here for a bit until we work out how to get home, isn’t that right, Not Bird?’

‘NOT!’ screeched Not Bird.

Mrs Frogshnoff patted me on my aerials and grabbed Not Bird, giving him a little cuddle. ‘NOT!’ he screeched again, wriggling out of the cuddle and lowering himself down on my head like a wig.

‘I understand, Colin,’ buzzed Dindle. ‘But until you DO get home, you’ll need a place to rest your head,’ he smiled, looking at Not Bird, who’d dozed off and was snoring NOTs.

He pointed up the street to a tall brown building with a shop at the bottom of it called ‘Bunny Deli’. On its roof sat a gigantic plastic cheeseburger and chips. Next to them stood an enormous blue cup with a stripy red-and-white straw sticking out of it.

The cheeseburger looked like it’d been designed on a computer. Its bun was all jaggedy like the pixels on a screen, and the chips were zigzaggedy instead of straight like I was used to.

My TV belly rumbled, and I patted it, realising I hadn’t had anything to eat in millions of years.

‘Lets go see if there’s any room at my old orphanage!’ grinned Dindle, flapping his wings and buzzing off towards the giant cheeseburger.

I shouted, running after him.

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