‘This is no time for questions,’ scolded Zeke as he picked Eppie up by the scruff of the neck and threw her into a huge football sock that was on his way home from a game, and then threw himself in straight after.
‘Sssssshh,’ said Queen Eppie to the football sock. ‘Don’t tell a sole we’re in here.’ (“Sole”, get it?)
‘Of course, Your Majesty. You smell like fish, I assume you’re escaping from Prince Nipper? Leave it up to me.’
And they were all perfectly quiet as the football sock walked to the airport with his precious cargo, and no one would ever have known what he was hiding inside if it weren’t for one very simple thing—Zeke’s yoyo was still attached to Eppie’s head and poking out the top.
‘There they are!’ yelled King Neptune. And so the football sock ran as fast as he could while his passengers cried, ‘Help us!’
But no one paid any attention because they couldn’t quite understand what Zeke and Eppie had said.
‘Melt us? What does that mean?’ said the sock crowd that had gathered.
‘No,’ yelled Queen Eppie. ‘Help us.’
‘Oh, eat puss!’ said the crowd. ‘Well that really is disgusting.’
‘No, you ninnies!’ roared Queen Eppie. ‘For heaven’s sake, catch those suckers behind us.’
And the sock people replied, ‘Oh, okay.’ But the socks had absolutely no luck at all. They tried lying on the road and tripping the baddies. They even tried jumping from the trees and strangling the Neptunes. But absolutely nothing seemed to work and the Neptunes were only a few horse lengths away as Zeke and Eppie and the football sock entered Planet Sock Airport.
‘When is the next flight to Earth?’ said the football sock to the frilly sock airport receptionist.
‘Oh we haven’t any direct flights to Earth,’ she said. ‘We only have a falling star that is going to Mercury, and a comet that is going to Jupiter.’
‘Have you nothing at all that is going to Earth?’ begged Queen Eppie from inside the footy sock.
‘Is that you, Queen Eppie?’ said the receptionist. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
The Neptunes were stopped for a moment by a pair of socks who tried to wrap round their eyes like blindfolds, but soon their war cries could be heard again charging even closer.
The receptionist rang her very hot boyfriend to see what he could do. ‘He’s a meteor,’ explained the frilly sock. ‘And although he is supposed to go to the sun to refuel, he said he’ll drop you off at Earth on the way.’
‘Yeh,’ yahooed Zeke and Eppie as a blinding flash and a ball of light landed on the tarmac ready to take them home.
They ran as fast as fast across the tarmac with the Neptunes in frightening pursuit. Closer and closer, they could smell their fishy breath!
‘Oh no, this is the end!’ cried Zeke and Eppie as King Neptune lowered his enormous fork and prepared to scoop the children up like two peas on a plate.
‘Ouch,’ said Zeke.
‘Ouch,’ said Eppie when the prongs of the fork poked and prodded them as King Neptune tried to take perfect aim.
‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh,’ they both squeaked as they were scooped up at last by the horrible Neptunes who were laughing with glee until … suddenly a huge sock-trap dropped from high above the tarmac and captured the Neptunes like fish in a net, leaving only the fork poking outside and its passengers, Zeke and Eppie.
‘Phew,’ said Zeke and Eppie as they climbed on board the meteor just in time, and waved thank you to the clever socks. Then they swooped and glided through the night.
It was very relaxing and the children were feeling good until they noticed, after a while, that the morning sun was teasing on the horizon and it was about to rise and wake the world.
‘Mum will be getting up pretty soon,’ whispered Eppie. ‘I hope we’re back in time!’
‘I know,’ said Zeke, ‘I’m worried too. It feels like we’re going far too
s l o w l y wa
AA
AAA
AAH.’
Suddenly faster and faster they went, faster and faster and faster as they entered Earth’s atmosphere!
The pressure of the speed stretched and pulled them: their faces, their arms, their legs, their bodies, their ears, their noses, their fingers and toes. Stretch, stretch, pull, pull—on it went all the way back to Earth. Until Zeke and Eppie were finally dropped off at their front door, both as thin as a piece of skinny spaghetti and as tall as a telegraph pole.
‘Oh look at you,’ Eppie laughed, as the light of the sun began to shine and they could finally see each other clearly.
‘Well look at you,’ said Zeke poking his long tongue out. ‘And anyway, at least my yoyo’s still safe on your head and that’s really all that matters.’
‘Is not all that matters.’
‘Is so.’
‘Is not.’
‘Is so.’
‘Is not.’
And then they paused because they were both out of breath. And when they stopped fighting they could hear … nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Complete and utter silence.
(shhhhh)
‘Oh no!’ Zeke and Eppie gasped together. ‘Mum’s stopped snoring. She must be waking up.’ Aaaaaaaaagh panic panic panic panic.
‘All we have to do,’ said Zeke at last, when he’d finally calmed himself down, ‘is get back to normal size and then Mum will never know the difference. So, first things first, let’s go into our house.’
Which they did, by the easiest, quietest way they could, which was sliding underneath the front door.
But when Zeke and Eppie stood up they didn’t fit under the ceiling, so they crouched as low as possible, bending over backwards, rolled into balls, and full of fear they tip-toed up the stairs. And they saw their mum was still sort of asleep, only just starting to stir and mumbling and rumbling something about starting a music group with her friends and calling it the Spice Mums.
‘Quick, into the bathroom!’ said Eppie to Zeke. ‘And we’ll work out what to do.’
‘Well I’ve already got a plan, you stupid bossy boots,’ said Zeke as they closed the bathroom door. ‘I think if we run on the spot till we get really hot, we’ll go like warm soft plasticine and we can mould ourselves back into shape.’
‘Good idea, for once,’ said Eppie. ‘So come on, let’s get started.’
‘No, first’, said Zeke. ‘Just to make sure this trouble never happens again, I think we should remove the yoyo from your hair. So let’s put shampoo all over your head, to make the hair slippery so the yoyo will slide off … absolutely easy peezy.’
‘Good idea number two,’ said Eppie throwing her arms into the air with excitement and knocking Mum’s perfumes off the cabinet so the bottles went smashing to the ground.
Snort, came the noise from Mum’s bedroom. Oh no, she was waking up!
‘Quick put the plug in the bath and stick your hair exactly under the tap,’ said Zeke as he poured shampoo all over Eppie’s head.
They could hear Mum’s doorway opening wide and any minute they’d hear her footsteps coming down the hall.
‘Rub your hair Eppie, to make it all slippery.’
But still the yoyo wouldn’t come out. So desperately, Zeke added more shampoo and more and more and more, and before you know it the bath started to fill, and then began to overflow.
‘I’ve got it!’ said Zeke as the room filled with bubbles. ‘I’ve removed the yoyo from your hair. So turn the tap off and let the plug out immediately.’
But Eppie couldn’t see where the plug was because of all the bubbles and the bathroom started to fill with water and enormous fabulous froth.
‘What on earth is that coming under the bathroom door?’ said Mum as she came stumbling down the hallway.
‘Mum’s coming!’ yelled Zeke.
‘Mum’s coming!’ yelled Eppie.
And they splashed around among the bubbles, grabbing at this and that and finally Eppie found the p
lug, pulled at it hard and the water went racing with enormous force, tumbling thankfully down the drain. But unfortunately so did long, skinny Eppie.
‘Who’s in there?’ said Mum as she knocked on the bathroom door. ‘Whoever you are, you’re in the most humungous trouble and I’m coming in to get you.’
And, with that, spaghetti Zeke dived down the plughole after Eppie. And Mum, who still hadn’t found her glasses, walked straight into the laundry cupboard and got really angry with a broom.
My Sister’s a Yoyo
When Eppie falls into a pot hole and gets squashed to the size of a strawberry, her brother Zeke decides to have some fun with his yoyo.
What follows is a hilarious high tale of escape, theft, bullies, brats, dobbers, goody-goodies, garbage trucks, magic lamps, scabs, snot, bribery, bravery, a blind mum, a fat nurse, a skinny teacher and a boy on a bicycle covered in vomit — and that’s only the beginning!
My Life is a Toilet
This is the tale of 15-year-old Fleur Trotter. It starts with a bad haircut and the sort of unattractive boy who makes mould look exciting and ends with the usual love, death, flood, fire, fortune telling and bust development.
‘Without doubt the most honest and hilarious account of adolescent agony since The Bible’
— Fleur Trotter
‘Lies’
— Fleur’s mother
‘If Fleur gets this published she’ll be up for adoption’
— Fleur’s father
‘Fleur sucks. Who cares what she does!’
Miss Priss and Bum Face (Fleur’s sisters)
Cherry Pie
Picture Book
This is the story of two girls. They look just like each other and even have the same name.
But they cannot talk and play together until, with the help of one small puppy and a bit of magic dust, they become the best of friends.
* * *
Gretel Killeen is the author many successful books for children, including the Fleur Trotter series, which kicked off with My Life is a Toilet, the My Sister’s series and the Very Naughty Mother series. Having started her career as a stand-up comic, Gretel hit the heights of recognisability while hosting the enormously popular ‘Big Brother’ shows. Gretel currently writes a weekly column for the Sun Herald and is also working on adult and young adult novels.
* * *
* * *
Leigh Hobbs once worked at Luna Park and helped restore an antique merry-go-round. His cartoons have appeared in magazines and news papers such as The Age, and his books include Caro’s Croc Café, Mr Knuckles, the bestselling Old Tom series, Belly Busters and My Sister’s a Yoyo.
Leigh lives, teaches and draws in Melbourne.
* * *
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
My Sister’s an Alien
Published by Random House Australia 2012
Text copyright © Gretel Killeen 1998
Illustrations copyright © Leigh Hobbs 1998
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A Random House Australia book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney NSW 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au
Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at
www.randomhouse.com.au/offices
First published in 1998
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Killeen, Gretel.
My sister’s an alien [electronic resource]/ Killeen, Gretel.
ISBN 9781742747767 (Ebook)
1. Australian wit and humour. I. Killeen, Gretel. II. Hobbs, Leigh.
Cover, title and half title pages designed by Andrew Hoyne Design.
Author photograph (inside front cover) by Reece Scannell.
Illustrator photograph (inside back cover) by Francis Reiss.
There’s so much more at randomhouse.com.au
My Sister's an Alien Page 4
