one’ll want to see this rubbish,” scoffed The Basher. “Not when I show them what I’ve brought.” He tapped his school bag with a gloating grin.
“What
have
you brought then?” asked Max.
“It’s a secret,” Barry said, and, to their horror, jumped on Ben’s skateboard. “See you later!”
He streaked off across the playground, whooping triumphantly and bashing kids over as he went. Suddenly Max saw a tall figure emerging from the school door. Grey hair, beaky nose, face like thunder. He knew what that meant. It was Enemy Agent Mrs Hogsbottom, commonly known as Mrs Hogsbum, codename: Stinky Head Teacher. The Basher zoomed past the door and went smack! straight into her, knocking her right off her feet.
“Outrageous!” shrieked Mrs Hogsbottom, staggering up again and staring at Barry with her laser vision. “School rule number twenty-seven. The head teacher must not be run over without permission. I shall keep this monstrosity until home time.”
“I never thought I’d say this,” gasped Max, “but Mrs Hogsbum’s done us a favour. She’s taken the Speed King off The Basher for us.”
“I’ll go and get it back,” said Ben eagerly. The boys rushed over to the furious head teacher, who was brushing gravel off her bony knees. The Basher stood smirking behind her.
“What do you two want?” she snapped as soon as she saw them.
“The skateboard’s mine, Mrs Hogsbottom,” Ben began to explain. “Could I have it back please?” “Certainly not!” sniffed the head teacher. “If you hadn’t lent it to Barry Price this wouldn’t have happened.”
“I didn’t lend it,” said Ben. “He snatched it.” He put on his wide-eyed, pleading look. It always worked on the dinner ladies, who gave him extra pudding. It never worked on Mrs Hogsbottom.
“No excuses,” she snapped, picking up the Speed King and tucking it firmly under her arm.
“But Ben has to show it to everyone in class later,” pleaded Max. “He brought it in specially for the talk.”
“Ben should have thought of that when he lent it to Barry Price,” said Mrs Hogsbottom crossly. “He can have it back after school.” She turned on her heel and marched towards the door.
The Basher poked his face into Ben’s. “What a shame!” he sniggered.
“Still, never mind. No one would have listened to you whingeing on about skateboarding. My hobby’s much better.”
He strutted off, pushing a couple of small footballers out of the way as he went.
“I don’t reckon he’s got anything better than your Speed King,” said Max when The Basher was out of earshot.
“At least he’s got
something
,” sighed Ben miserably.
“That was really mean,” came a growly purr. Toby was watching The Basher go. “Wish I had my catapult with me. I’d fire some acorns at him.”
“When he comes back I’m going to turn into a tiger,” said Theo. He stretched out a front paw. Three tiny claws appeared. “That’ll give him a scare.”
The bell rang. Mrs Hogsbottom stood by the door, fuming.
“We’d better go in,” sighed Max, “before she explodes.”
“That was the worst morning in the history of worst mornings,” said Ben at lunch time. “We haven’t played a trick on anyone.”
“We’ve been too busy thinking about how to get our own back on The Basher,” Max pointed out.
“And my poor Speed King is being held prisoner,” said Ben. “Mrs Hogsbum is probably feeding it to her crocodiles right now.”
Max’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Don’t despair, Agent Neal,” he said. “We’ll do a great trick and get our own back at the same time.” He leaned forward to whisper in Ben’s ear, “Barry’s got something in his bag that he reckons is really cool, right?”
Ben nodded. “Right, Agent Black.”
“Then our mission is to swap it for something stupid and girly.” Max grinned. “When he gets it out to show everyone he’ll be dead embarrassed.”
“Good plan!” breathed Ben. “And I know