The February Competition is still going and the prize is a paperback copy of:
Anyone can enter by posting a name for a really mean school teacher in the comment box. The name picked will be used in the second book in the Rascals series.
Good luck éveryone. Oh, and kids, don't suggest your own teachers.
Here is an excerpt from the book:
With an evil smile, Auntie curled a finger. “Come with me, Polly.”
I shivered. I didn’t want to go with her. She was not a nice woman.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and leading me upstairs to the bathroom. “I have a job for you.”
“What sort of job?” I asked. I didn’t want to do chores.
Auntie gave me a bucket of soapy water and passed me a toilet brush.
Frowning, I looked up. “What’s that for?”
She folded her arms and grinned. “You’re going to clean the toilet.”
I stared at that bristly white brush. “I don’t know how to clean a toilet,” I said. “I’m just a little kid.”
“Well,” she said, “You’re never too young to learn.”
Poo! That toilet stunk. I squinted at her and said, “I don’t want to clean a yucky toilet bowl. Mum never makes me.”
“Really?” she said. “But you didn’t mind eating other people’s filthy chewing gum and mouldy dog poo. Did you?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I didn’t eat them,” I said. “I just tasted them a bit.”
“Well, from now on,” she said. “You can clean the loo every time you’re naughty. Now get on with it. And wipe the floor while you’re at it.” She passed me the mop on her way out. But as soon as she closed the door, I shook it at her. Then I leaned it against the wall.
My friends didn’t have to clean toilets. Pinching my nose, I peered into the bog hole. Gross! I didn’t want loo slime on my fingers. But that toilet brush was way too short. I grabbed the mop instead. I dunked it in the bucket and shoved it down the poo hole. After jiggling it about, I pressed it down real hard. Auntie wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t clean it good.
Oops. It jammed in the bend. I pulled and pulled, but it wouldn’t come out. Yipes! Now what would I do?
I climbed onto the toilet seat and pulled even harder, but that stupid mop was stuck. I gulped. Then I heaved and heaved. My face got real hot and my tummy made a loud rumbling noise. Darn it! Now I needed to use the loo.
That mop was a pest. I pressed the flush button, but it jammed even more. Yucky water poured out of the toilet bowl and covered my shoes. Shoot! Now I was gonna poop my pants. As I held my belly, Auntie’s big thumping feet came thundering up the stairs.
My legs trembled.
The door swung open and Auntie barged in.
“Oh, my goodness,” she cried, pulling at her hair. “Now, what’ve you done?”
I froze with my mouth open.
Here's a few of my own illustrations from the book: