Read The Monster Crisp-Guzzler Page 1




  CONTENTS

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One Miss Porter’s Secret

  Chapter Two Miss Porter Changes

  Chapter Three In Trouble

  Chapter Four The Rescue

  About the Author

  Also by Malorie Blackman

  Copyright

  COLOUR FIRST READER books are perfect for beginner readers. All the text inside this Colour First Reader book has been checked and approved by a reading specialist, so it is the ideal size, length and level for children learning to read.

  Series Reading Consultant: Prue Goodwin Reading and Language Information Centre, University of Reading

  About the Book

  On her first day at school, Mira discovers that her teacher has a secret. A BIG secret. Miss Porter is a MONSTER CRISP-GUZZLER. And when she gets her mitts on these savoury snacks, something super-strange happpens . . .

  An action-packed adventure from the award-winning Malorie Blackman.

  For Neil and Lizzy, with love.

  Chapter One

  Miss Porter’s Secret

  Hi, everyone! This is me, Mira Harris. And this is Miss Porter, my teacher. Miss Porter has long black hair which she wears in a French plait down her back, and dark brown eyes which sparkle and fizz when she looks at you. She looks quite ordinary, doesn’t she? BUT SHE’S NOT! Not a bit of it. She has a secret – and I know what it is. And if you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll tell you too. D’you promise? OK then. This is how I found out Miss Porter’s secret.

  On my very first day at my new school, I sat next to Hannah who was very friendly. Hannah showed me around the classroom and told me where everything was.

  “What’s Miss Porter like?” I whispered.

  Hannah looked around. Miss Porter was at the other side of the classroom, helping one of the boys with his spelling.

  “She’s great!” Hannah replied. “But watch out! Sometimes she can be a bit of a dragon!”

  And for some reason Hannah and Josie and Nicole and all the others around me burst out laughing.

  “Er, what’s so funny?” Miss Porter called across the classroom.

  “Nothing.” The laughter stopped at once.

  “Back to your tables then,” said Miss Porter. “It’s nearly break time.”

  Hannah, Josie, Nicole and I sat at our table just as the mid-morning buzzer sounded.

  Yippee! It was time to get out our break-boxes – and I was starving! I took out my Betsy Bear break-box, eager to see what Mum had packed for me.

  There was a honey sandwich (my favourite sandwich), a blackcurrant drink (my favourite drink!), a few grapes (my favourite fruit) and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps – my favourite food in the whole, wide world. I opened up the crisp packet first.

  “Oh no!” Hannah exclaimed. “You’ve got crisps!”

  “Hide them! Hide them!” Josie urged. Nicole just stared at me like I was crazy.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  But I didn’t get any further. Something strange was happening at the other side of the classroom. Miss Porter had been putting some books back on the bottom shelf of the bookcase when she suddenly sprang to her feet, her eyes wide and staring.

  “Who’s got crisps?” she demanded. “Who’s got crisps?”

  And then her tongue came out to lick her lips. Only it wasn’t a normal tongue. It was forked, split in the middle like a snake’s tongue and it was at least as long as my whole arm!

  Chapter Two

  Miss Porter Changes

  I blinked. Then blinked again, sure my eyes were playing tricks on me. Miss Porter started sniffing and moving slowly round the classroom. Josie tried to snatch my crisps out of my hand, but I snatched them back.

  “Excuse me!” I said. “If you want a crisp, ask first!”

  “I don’t want your crisps, but the monster crisp-guzzler does,” Josie told me.

  “The who?”

  “Me!” Miss Porter appeared from nowhere to squat down beside my chair. “It’s just a little nickname my class has for me. They call me the monster crisp-guzzler because I love crisps so much.”

  Miss Porter gave me a great, big beaming smile. And her tongue was back to normal. I shook my head. Had I been imagining things?

  “As I don’t eat meat, they have to be vegetarian crisps of course,” Miss Porter continued. “What flavour are yours? Salt and vinegar?”

  I nodded. “Mum always puts a packet of crisps in my break-box because she knows how much I love them.”

  “So do I! I love them! I adore them! I want to marry them!” Miss Porter grinned.

  “Miss Porter, please don’t,” Nicole pleaded. “You know what happens every time you eat crisps.”

  “Nonsense,” Miss Porter told her. “One itsy-bitsy-teeny-tiny little crisp isn’t going to hurt.”

  “But that’s the trouble,” Hannah argued. “You never have just one itsy-bitsy-teeny-tiny little crisp.”

  “Nonsense,” Miss Porter said again.

  “You all worry too much.”

  I still didn’t have a clue what was going on.

  “Would you like a crisp, Miss Porter?” I asked doubtfully, holding the bag up for her.

  The whole class gasped in horror. It went very quiet as our teacher sniffed at my bag of crisps. She closed her eyes like just the smell alone was enough to take her to Heaven!

  I looked around the classroom. Everyone was holding their breath as they watched Miss Porter and me.

  “Miss Porter, don’t do it . . .” Ellie called from the next table.

  “Just one . . . just one . . .” Miss Porter was practically drooling over my crisp packet now.

  And all at once I got a very strange, hiccupy feeling in my tummy. I didn’t think it was a very good idea to give Miss Porter any of my crisps, but how could I take them back without seeming rude?

  “You don’t mind if I have one crisp, do you, Mira?” asked Miss Porter.

  I shook my head slowly. “No, Miss Porter.”

  My teacher dipped her hand into my crisp packet and took out four or five crisps together.

  “Is that OK?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “I really am a monster crisp-guzzler, I’m afraid!” laughed Miss Porter and she popped the crisps into her mouth.

  And then it happened. Not just her face but her whole body began to change. She grew crinkly and wrinkly and started sprouting scales all over her arms and her legs and her face. Her ears grew up and her nose grew out and her teeth grew down and enormous wings appeared from nowhere, sprouting out of my teacher’s back. And she had the longest tail I’d ever seen on any creature. It curled right round the classroom and moved gently up and down like a huge, long finger waving. “Delicious!” She licked her lips. The enormous, forked tongue was back. “Can I have a couple more?”

  “I knew it! I just knew it!” said Josie.

  I didn’t even notice that my packet of crisps had fallen from my hand. I was staring so hard, my eyes were beginning to hurt. Miss Porter wasn’t a woman any more. My teacher had turned into . . . a dragon!

  Chapter Three

  In Trouble

  “Mira, we warned you not to give her any crisps,” Nicole snapped. “This is what happens every time Miss Porter eats them.”

  I didn’t know whether to scream or burst out laughing. I couldn’t have been more shocked if I’d been thrown into a swimming pool full of ice-cubes.

  “I . . . I haven’t changed, have I, class?” asked Miss Porter.

  “YES!” everyone shouted back.

  “Oh dear! Oh dear!” Miss Porter said, her huge wings flutterin
g behind her. “I only had a few.”

  Barry, one of the boys at the front of the class, ran to the door. He opened it slightly and peered out.

  “It’s OK. The corridor is empty – so far,” he said with relief.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I gasped, still staring at Miss Porter. “Someone should’ve warned me.”

  “We tried,” Nicole said, shaking her head.

  I pulled my chair away from Miss Porter, the dragon. I hardly dared to breathe. She said she was a vegetarian but suppose that was only when she was a teacher? Suppose when she was a dragon she turned into a . . . girl-eater?

  “It’s OK, Mira. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” Miss Porter told me. “I can’t help being a dragon!”

  “You wouldn’t be one if you could stop eating crisps,” Hannah pointed out.

  “H-h-how long are you going to stay a dragon, Miss Porter?” I asked.

  Miss Porter shrugged her dragon shoulders. “No idea. It might just be five minutes. It might be five hours. I have no way of knowing.”

  “Quick, Miss Porter! Hide! The headmistress is coming!” yelped Barry from the door.

  I picked up my crisps and shoved the packet back into my break-box. They’d done enough damage for one day.

  “Oh dear! If Mrs Sprat catches me like this, she’ll sack me, for sure.” Miss Porter wrung her scaly paws in alarm and looked around desperately for somewhere to hide.

  Barry hurried back to his desk, only just in time. The door was flung open. And there stood Mrs Sprat. She looked around, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  “Where’s Miss Porter?” she asked no one in particular.

  “Er . . . she just stepped out for a moment,” Hannah replied.

  “Stepped out where?” asked the headmistress.

  “She didn’t say,” Hannah rushed on. “Sorry.”

  I had to fight to look at Mrs Sprat and not at what was going on above her. Miss Porter was floating right above her head, her long tail wrapped around her body in coils.

  She placed one finger over her scaly lips as she signalled to us not to give the game away.

  “Well, she shouldn’t leave you alone. I’ll go and find her immediately. If she comes back, could one of you tell her I’d like to have a word with her,” said Mrs Sprat.

  We all nodded our heads vigorously. Mrs Sprat left the classroom.

  Miss Porter floated down from above the door, her tail uncurling. I wiped the perspiration off my forehead in relief. And I wasn’t the only one. That’d been too close! I’d thought Miss Porter was in trouble for sure.

  “Thanks for not giving the game away, class,” Miss Porter began. “I really thought that . . .”

  “Oh, class, could you tell . . .” Mrs Sprat entered the room and stared at Miss Porter the dragon.

  I held my breath. What was going to happen now? I expected Mrs Sprat to run screaming from the class. But she stood there, looking more and more cross.

  “Miss Porter, I warned you what would happen if you turned into a dragon in my school again,” said Mrs Sprat, her eyes shooting sparks. “You will work till the end of this week until I can find someone to replace you. After that you will no longer be welcome at my school. You’re dismissed!”

  Mrs Sprat slammed out of the classroom. We all stared in horror. Just like that, Miss Porter had lost her job. And I felt worse than anyone, because it was all my fault.

  Chapter Four

  The Rescue

  The rest of the week flew by and we didn’t want it to. Even the prospect of a school trip to Ramsden Bay by the seaside on Friday couldn’t cheer us up.

  Everyone was very aware that Friday was going to be our last day with Miss Porter.

  We got a surprise when we all climbed into the coach on Friday morning. Mrs Sprat, the headmistress, was our driver. “I’ve decided to come with you to make sure that none of you,” she turned to glare at Miss Porter as she said it, “none of you gets up to any mischief!” And with that we set off.

  When we got to Ramsden Bay, the beach was warm and sandy and the sea was a deep bluey-green and the weather was lovely. We were the only ones for kilometres, it couldn’t have been more perfect.

  But I wasn’t the only one moping around.

  “Cheer up, class.” Miss Porter tried her best to make us smile. She pulled silly faces and tried to juggle with some shells and seaweed. We did laugh, especially when a long, smelly piece of seaweed fell on Miss Porter’s head – but it didn’t last long. This was our very last day with our teacher. I’d only been at the school for a week but I already knew that Miss Porter was something special. She was patient and kind and a really good teacher. I was going to miss her.

  “If only there was something we could do to change Mrs Sprat’s mind,” I said to my new friends.

  They all just sighed and nodded their heads. We walked along the beach looking into rock pools and watching the crabs and starfish. We ate our lunch and made sand castles and bought gifts in the gift shop, until all too soon it was time to go home. Back in the coach, I looked around for my lunch-box.

  “Oh no!” I exclaimed. “Miss Porter, I’ve left my Betsy Bear lunch-box over by the last rock pool we were studying.”

  “Really, Mira! Why on earth did you put it down?” asked Miss Porter.

  “I wanted to hold a starfish and I was afraid it might fall out of my hands if I was holding onto my box as well,” I explained. “I can see the rock pool from here. Can I go and get it please?”

  “Hurry up, then,” said Miss Porter. “Go straight there and come straight back.”

  As I got out of the coach, I could see the white, foamy crest of the sea breaking on the beach. I ran all the way to the rock pool where I’d left my box. But it wasn’t there. In the distance, I could see a big seagull, dragging it along the beach.

  “That’s mine,” I cried out, and started running after it.

  The seagull took off with a “Crawww! Crawww!”, leaving my box behind. When at last I reached it, I picked it up and dusted off the sand. I turned around – and screamed.

  The tide, which had seemed so gentle and far away before, was now racing up the beach like a galloping horse. And it was only a few metres away.

  I turned and ran, jumping up onto first one rock, then the next one higher up, then the next. The tide crashed around the group of rocks I was standing on and carried on heading up the beach. I screamed again. All around me the water was getting higher and higher.

  In the distance I could see some of my classmates pointing at me from the coach. Miss Porter jumped out of the coach and came racing towards me. Mrs Sprat and all the others poured out of the coach and sprinted behind her.

  “Help! Someone, help!” I yelled.

  Miss Porter looked around, frantically searching for someone or something to help us. But apart from our school party we were alone. And the tide had come in so quickly, Miss Porter and I were too far apart for her to grab me.

  “I’ll get her!” Mrs Sprat pulled off her jacket and kicked off her shoes.

  Miss Porter pulled her back. “The tide is too fast and the current is too strong. You’d be swept away before you ever reached her.”

  “Do something! Help!” I screamed. The water was lashing higher up the rocks.

  “Does anyone have any crisps?” Miss Porter called out suddenly.

  “No.” Everyone shook their heads. “I’ll get you some,” Mrs Sprat said, determination on her face.

  She lifted up her long, flowery skirt and sprinted down the beach towards the gift shop. And all the time the sea water around me was rising and rising. Only a couple more centimetres and then it would reach me . . .

  Mrs Sprat came racing back towards us, her arms full of crisp packets.

  When the headmistress reached her, Miss Porter grabbed the nearest packet and tore it open. Tilting her head back, she put the packet of crisps to her lips and let the crisps fall into her mouth.

  “Hurry!” I shouted.


  The sea charged against the rocks I was standing on, spraying up onto my socks and skirt. One more centimetre and it would reach the soles of my sandals. But as I watched, Miss Porter’s shoulders began to heave up and down. She rubbed her growing nose. Wings sprouted out of her back. The longest tail of any animal anywhere began to whip up and down behind her.

  “Quick!” I yelled.

  Wasting no more time, Miss Porter flew over to me and lowered her tail.

  “Mira, grab hold. Quick!” she said.

  She didn’t need to tell me twice. I jumped up and grabbed hold of her tail. And only just in time too. The tide crashed over the rocks where I’d been standing only a second before. I held on tight as we flew over the sea.

  Miss Porter’s tail was very warm but scaly and rough – which was just as well because if it’d been smooth, I would’ve slid right off it into the sea below. We were flying so fast, the wind whipped over my face and through my hair.

  I could see for kilometres as Miss Porter flew further up the beach to where it was safe. She made sure my feet were on the ground before she landed herself.

  “Hooray for Miss Porter!” the class cheered.

  “Oh, it was nothing really.” Miss Porter the dragon looked happy and embarrassed at the same time.