Jim Smith - A Super Weird! Mystery - Danger at Donut Diner

Violet laughed. ‘Oh per-lease,’ she said. ‘You couldn’t be cool if you were stuck inside a fridge. With sunglasses on. And gel in your hair. Wearing a t-shirt that said I AM COOL on it.’

‘Oh yeah?’ said Melvin. ‘Well I wouldn’t even be able to fit inside a fridge. Unless you took out all the shelves. But even then it’d be a squeeze. So who’s laughing now?’

‘Not me,’ said Violet, yawning as the car trundled off the bridge, past an enormous billboard.

This is what it said:

Violet stared through her rain-splattered window at the billboard. ‘The boringest town in the universe,’ she grumbled.

Of course, she’d never’ve said that if she’d known what was going to happen in the rest of this book.

The Pebble family car drove up to its new house. Not that a car can have a house exactly, but you know what I mean.

Melvin jumped out and stretched his legs. The thunderstorm had finished and he could just about see the moon hanging in the sky, like a gigantic chopped-in-half donut.

‘Feels great to stretch your legs, doesn’t it?’ grinned Norman Pebble, bending over to touch his smelly feet, and his bum peeped out of its trousers.

‘Not really,’ said Melvin, as his mum staggered up to the house carrying a giant cardboard box. Clinking around inside was her collection of empty jam jars.

‘You can never have too many jam jars,’ smiled Deirdre. Not that anyone had mentioned them or anything. She just liked talking about her jam jars.

Norman looked at his wife. ‘You do realise jam jars are supposed to have something inside them, don’t you, Deirdre?’ he said.

‘It’s tragic really,’ said Melvin, watching his mum. He walked round to the boot of the car and heaved out a box himself.

This one had written on the side.

The flaps were half-open and the tops of a million little toy packets fluttered in the breeze.

‘SHHH!’ shushed a noise from behind him and Melvin twizzled round.

In front of him sat a fat little bush. Its leaves were rattling like it was shaking with fear. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Melvin giggled, nervously.

‘What’s wrong, little fella?’ he asked the bush, sort of as a joke. ‘You scared of the storm?’

‘Please be quiet!’ said the bush, and Melvin stumbled backwards.

‘Th-that bush!’ he stuttered. ‘It’s alive!’

All of a sudden a girl’s head poked out, about the same age as Melvin’s.

It’s got a head as well!’ screamed Melvin.

‘SHUSH!’ shushed the girl. ‘Would you keep it down? I’m waiting for my new next-door neighbours to arrive.’

Melvin breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Oh,’ he smiled. ‘I think that might be . . .’

whispered the girl. ‘I’ve been hiding in this bush all blooming weekend and the last thing I need is you lot scaring them away.’

Deirdre plonked her jam jars down by the front door and walked over to the girl. ‘We’re the Pebbles!’ she smiled.

The girl went silent for a millisecond, then clicked her fingers.

‘Hey, you’re my new next-door neighbours!’ she grinned. ‘My name’s Rhubarb Plonsky. Very nice to meet you!’

Deirdre Pebble chuckled at how ridiculous her new next-door neighbour’s name was, even though her own name was Deirdre Pebble.

‘Very nice to meet you too, Rhubarb Plonsky,’ she said, putting her hands on her hips. ‘I’m Deirdre and that’s my husband Norman.’

‘And those two are Violet and Melvin,’ she said, pointing at them. Violet was still slouched in the back of the car. ‘Say hello, kids.’

‘Hello kids,’ said Violet, and Melvin sniggled.

‘Hello, Rhubarb Plonsky,’ he said.

Rhubarb sniffed the air. ‘Is that a Hokum City accent?’ she asked.

Violet raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s a pretty good shnoz you’ve got there,’ she said.

Rhubarb marched straight up to Melvin and did another sniff.

‘Stinks, doesn’t he,’ said Violet.

Rhubarb shook her head. ‘It’s not that,’ she said. ‘It’s something else. Do you like mysteries, Melvin?’

‘Erm, I dunno,’ said Melvin.

‘Hmmm, we’ll see,’ said Rhubarb, pincering one of the little plastic toy packets from Melvin’s cardboard box. ‘What are these things, anyway?’

Melvin pulled the box away and pushed the cardboard flaps shut.

Violet slid out of the car and wandered over. ‘That’s my little brother’s collection of toy bags.’

‘You collect toy bags?’ asked Rhubarb.

Melvin nodded. ‘And the toys inside them,’ he said.

Rhubarb stroked her chin. ‘But none of the bags were open,’ she said.

‘Melvin doesn’t open the bags,’ said Violet. ‘He’s way too cool for that.’

‘I like guessing what’s inside them,’ said Melvin, pulling one out of the box and giving it a fiddle. ‘Anyway, the packets are more interesting than the toys half the time.’

Rhubarb thought for a second. ‘Plus I suppose all the excitement’s gone once you’ve opened it,’ she said.