The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Zoo

The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Zoo
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The fourth sidesplitting book about the clumsy talking mice you love to… well, love.Everyone’s favourite biscuit-munching, tea-drinking, talking mice are back and this time they are making a mess of the zoo.Quality writing and side-splitting humour combine in these brilliant stories that will be loved by children and adults alike.

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Dedication

For Carol, Freda and Jane

also make a mess in:

The Clumsies Make a Mess

The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Seaside

The Clumsies Make a Mess of the Big Show

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Nervous Exhaustion

Welcome to the Zoo

Raspberry Recovery Part 1

Raspberry Recovery Part 2

Copyright

About the Publisher

Nervous Exhaustion


It was a Tuesday morning and everyone in the office was feeling cheerful. Howard was humming a tune and reading a magazine. Purvis and Mickey Thompson were playing a game and eating crisps. And Ortrud the very small elephant was frolicking, knocking things over.

‘LOOK OUT,

HOWARD,’ shouted Purvis, as Ortrud crashed into the coat-stand.


‘Oof,’ said Howard, as the coat-stand narrowly missed him.

‘That was close,’ said Mickey Thompson.

‘It’s ever so nice when Mr Bullerton’s away, isn’t it, Howard?’

‘Yes,’ said Howard. ‘Ever so.’

‘How long do you think he’ll be gone?’ asked Purvis.

‘Who can tell?’ said Howard. ‘I heard he’s been told by his doctor to have a long rest. He’s suffering from Nervous Exhaustion.’

Purvis gasped and Mickey Thompson dropped his bag of crisps. ‘Quite,’ said Howard.


‘Are you sure?’ asked Purvis.

‘I have it on good authority,’ said Howard.

‘Gosh,’ said Mickey Thompson. ‘Nervous Exhaustion, eh?’

‘Bit of a shock, isn’t it?’ said Howard, flicking through his magazine.

‘Yes,’ chorused the mice.

‘I wouldn’t have thought it, would you?’ said Howard.

‘No,’ chorused the mice.

Howard resumed his humming and the mice exchanged glances. Mickey Thompson r>aised an eyebrow at Purvis, and Purvis shrugged. Mickey Thompson prodded Purvis, and Purvis coughed.

‘Er, Howard?’ said Purvis.

‘Mmm?’ said Howard.

‘What’s Nervous Exhaustion

‘Hazard a wild guess,’ said Howard.

‘Feeling nervous?’ hazarded Purvis.

‘And?’ said Howard.

‘Exhausted,’ said Purvis.

‘Exactly,’ said Howard.

Mickey Thompson selected a crisp and ate it, worriedly.

‘So what you’re saying,’ he said, ‘is he’s spooked and pooped.’

‘If you must,’ said Howard.

‘Poop

poopedy pooped,’

said Mickey Thompson, loudly, and Ortrud started trumpeting.

‘Enough,’ said Howard.

‘But it isn’t like him,’ said Purvis. ‘Mr Bullerton’s normally so… so…’

‘Bossy,’ said Mickey Thompson.

‘Yes,’ said Howard, ‘and…’

‘Shouty,’ said Purvis.

‘Yes,’ said Howard, ‘and…’

‘S t o m p y,’said Mickey Thompson.

‘Yes,’ said Howard, ‘and…’

‘Angry,’ said Purvis.

Howard thumped the magazine down on the desk.

‘And,’ he said.


‘And what, Howard?’ asked Purvis.

‘And now I can’t remember what I wanted to say,’ said Howard.

‘He’s getting forgetful,’ muttered Mickey Thompson, to Purvis.


‘What?’ said Howard.

‘It’s a symptom,’ said Mickey Thompson.

‘What is?’ said Howard.

‘Forgetfulness,’ said Mickey Thompson, cheerfully. ‘You’re growing elderly.’

‘WHAT!’ shouted Howard.

‘We were discussing Mr Bullerton,’ explained Purvis.

‘I know we were,’ said Howard. ‘I am well aware of that, thank you very much, and I am NOT forgetful.’

‘Of course not, Howard,’ said Purvis.

‘I’m a young man in the prime of life,’ said Howard.

‘Yes, Howard,’ said Purvis, rummaging for tea bags. ‘But what do you think caused it? The Nervous Exhaustion, I mean.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Howard, ‘but I expect I shall get the blame, as usual.’

‘Maybe we should make him a get well card,’ suggested Mickey Thompson.

‘Maybe we shouldn’t,’ said Howard. ‘I’ve been given strict instructions to leave him alone, in peace and quiet.’

Purvis handed Howard a cup of tea, and Howard brightened.


‘And I’ll tell you what,’ he continued. ‘While Mr Bullerton’s away, I intend to enjoy some peace and quiet of my own.’

‘TRUMPET!’

trumpeted Ortrud, crashing into a rubber plant.


‘Tut,’ said Howard, as the rubber plant narrowly missed him. ‘What’s wrong with Ortrud? Why’s she hurtling?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Purvis.

‘Why are you hurtling, Ortrud?’

Ortrud tooted , and hurtled faster.

‘LOOK OUT, HOW– Whoops, too late,’ said Mickey Thompson, as Ortrud smashed into a cupboard, and the cupboard landed on Howard.

‘Harrumph,’ said Howard, extricating himself. ‘What this elephant needs is fresh air and exercise.’

‘Shall I open the window?’ offered Purvis.

‘That won’t be nearly airy enough for this situation,’ said Howard, taking a gulp of tea. ‘I think we’d better take the day off and go out somewhere.’

‘HURRAY!’ cheered Mickey Thompson, bouncing.


‘Where shall we go?’ said Purvis, hopping. ‘Where? Where?’

‘Where do you fancy?’ said Howard.


‘Seaside?’ suggested Purvis.

‘Too salty,’ said Howard.

‘Countryside?’ suggested Purvis.

‘Too muddy,’ said Howard.

‘A woodland walk?’ suggested Purvis.

‘Too woody,’ said Howard.

‘Ooh. Ooh,’ said Mickey Thompson, waving his hand in the air.


‘Yes, Mickey Thompson?’ said Howard.



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