mayor’s trouser pockets and slid himself into it. ‘Hover-scissors get extremely tired after snipping a ribbon,’ explained Jamjar. ‘He’ll need a nice nap now.’
‘O-K . . .’ I said, thinking how ridikeelous the future could be sometimes.
Mayor Goodhair turned to the floating pink parcel. ‘And who bought me this great big one?’ he asked.
‘I thought you said he bought his own pressies?’ I whispered to Bunny.
‘Must be from a secret admirer!’ she giggled.
A humungazoid label was hanging off the pink parcel. ‘Somebody flip that tag round so I can read it, would you?’ smiled Mayor Goodhair.
Not Bird flew up to the label and turned it over with his beak. ‘Happy bday!’ said the mayor, reading out what was written on it. Underneath the writing was a big black ‘X’ for a kiss.
‘Ahh, that’s nice!’ smiled Splorg, as the mayor began to frown.
‘Hmmm, there’s something about that handwriting that rings a bell . . .’ he mumbled, as the ground shook beneath me and the crowd started to scream.
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