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The Spacebook S.K.R.E.A.M Team - Chapter 7

“That’s Frankie Lime,” Ali said.


Jazingalip shoved the chairs out of the way and pressed his three eyeballs against Frankie’s face. “So this is Frankie Lime eh?” One eyeball swung round and stared back at the others. “But what’s he got to do with you lot turning up in normal clothes?”


One girl cleared her throat and fairy-stepped forward. “He told us to.”


Jazingalip rocketed towards the ceiling and turned Fanta orange, “WHAT DID YOU SAY?!!”


The girl kangarooed backwards. She dived into the clustered classmates and poked her head up. “He told us to?”


The bobbing bunch of aliens gasped. Jazingalip turned paprika. “If he told you to bungee jump using your granny’s knickers, would you?” The children shook their heads and snivelled.
















All jelly-legged, the same girl pushed her way out of the group and walked towards Ali. “We should have believed you. Sorry Ali. Can I get you a cake?” The other children copied and formed a queue. They offered to fetch Ali cakes, sweets and mugs of chocolate. They told Ali how cool his alien costume was and how they wanted to be his best friend. Except for Frankie Lime. He rocked and scowled in the corner.


“That’s more like it!” Jazingalip said, as children scurried backwards and forwards bringing Ali anything he wanted. “I bet the rest of you wouldn’t mind a taste of my yumptious chocy drink eh?” The aliens sniggered.


The children stopped. Their tongues hung out like dehydrated desert-dogs. “Yes please,” they said.


“No problemo!” said Jazingalip. “But I warn you – it’s irresistible.”  He ordered a table to be set up in the middle of the hall. “Take a seat my little Earthlings."


Jazingalip wrapped a tentacle around Ali, lifted him towards the ceiling and sat him on top of his middle head. He then pursed his purple lips and nodded. Two of the fattest aliens lifted the bath-sized container into the air. They flew over the table and hovered. The slobbering kids tilted their heads back, hypnotised by the bubbling chocolate above them.














Jazingalip made a kissy-suck sound that rocked the room. The aliens turned the gigantic tub onto its side. A waterfall of chocolate splattered down onto the children. They shrieked as the muddy goo splashed onto their faces; howled as it soaked their clothes; and whimpered as it filled their shoes.


The aliens hollered. Laughter rumbled in Ali's tummy, spewed up his windpipe and erupted from his nostrils. The splodge-kids licked themselves like crazed cats. But some places they couldn’t reach. So they began slurping each other – ears, armpits and belly buttons. Frankie Lime even scurried under the table and stuck his tongue between his classmates' toes. They didn’t stop until they’d devoured every irresistible drop. Ali’s tummy was hurting.


When the final splat was slurped, the children themselves began to snigger. Sniggers turned to giggles and giggles to guffaws.


“Right, let’s get this party started,” Jazingalip said. The music shook the children’s bones and fat beats pulsed into their bodies. The aliens boogie-bounced around them.


High above, Jazingalip rotated his antennae until all three pointed at Ali. “What’s going on?” A surge of golden sparks shot from each aerial and buzzed into his body. Ali leapt from Jazingalip’s head and somersaulted to the floor. A spiral of stars trailed from his heels. He popped and locked, swayed and swung, moonwalked and mash-potatoed. The children chanted his name. It was out of this world.


As the song faded, Ali opened his eyes. His classmates were still bopping to the beat. He twisted his head to scan the hall. “You lot! Stop!” The children shook their heads. “They’ve gone.”


The hall was as empty. No lights, no food, no cube and no aliens.













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