Ratburger. David Walliams

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      For Frankie, the boy with the beautiful smile.

      Contents

       Title Page

      Dedication

1 - Prawn-Cocktail-Crisp Breath

2 - A Very Special Little Girl

3 - Nuffink

4 - Dirty Business

5 - Droppings

6 - Rat-a-tat-tat

7 - Animal Smuggling

       8 - Bread Sandwich

       9 - One Shoe

       10 - The Midget

       11 - The Black Death

       12 - Instant Suspension

       13 - Burt’s Burgers

       14 - A Bogie on the Ceiling

       15 - Ten-Tonne Truck

       16 - The Blackberry Bush

       17 - “I Smell a Rat!”

       18 - “Pulverisation”

       19 - The Great Escape

       20 - Tug of War

       21 - Sizzling Bottom

       22 - Free Spit

       23 - The Pulverisation Machine!

       24 - Childburger

       25 - Roadkill

       26 - The Executioner & Axe

       27 - A Hole in the Fence

       28 - Rat Poison

       29 - Pink Furry Slippers

       30 - Room-mates

       31 - Rich and Famous Rat

       32 - Actually Too Much Fudge

       Epilogue

       Previously by David Walliams:

       Copyright

      About the Publisher

      Thank yous:

      I would like to thank the following people, in order of importance:

      Ann-Janine Murtagh, my boss at HarperCollins. I love you, I adore you. Thank you so much for believing in me, but most of all, thank you for being you.

      Nick Lake, my editor. You know I think you are the absolute best in the business, but also thank you so much for helping me NOT ONLY grow as a writer, but also as a man.

      Paul Stevens, my literary agent. I wouldn’t pay you 10% plus VAT for making a few phone calls if I didn’t feel completely blessed to be represented by you.

      Tony Ross. You are the most talented illustrator in the price range we had available. Thank you.

      James Stevens and Elorine Grant, the designers. Thanks.

      Lily Morgan, the copy editor. Cheers.

      Sam White, the publicity manager. Geraldine Stroud, the publicity director. Ta.

      Meet the characters in this story:

      he hamster was dead.

      On his back.

      Legs in the air.

      Dead.

      With tears running down her cheeks, Zoe opened the cage. Her hands were shaking and her heart was breaking. As she laid Gingernut’s little furry body down on the worn carpet, she thought she would never smile again.

      “Sheila!” called Zoe, as loudly as she could. Despite her father’s repeated pleas, Zoe refused to call her stepmother ‘Mum’. She never had, and she vowed to herself that she never would. No one could replace Zoe’s mum – not that her stepmother ever even tried.

      “Shut ya face. I’m watchin’ TV and stuffin’ meself!” came the woman’s gruff voice from the lounge.

      “It’s Gingernut!” called Zoe. “He’s not well!”

      This was an understatement.

      Zoe had once seen a hospital drama on the telly where a nurse tried to revive a dying old man, so she desperately attempted to give her hamster mouth-to-mouth resuscitation by blowing very gently into his open mouth. That didn’t work. Neither did connecting the rodent’s little heart to an AA battery with a paper clip. It was just too late.

      The hamster was cold to the touch, and he was stiff.

      “Sheila! Please help…!” shouted the little girl.

      At first Zoe’s tears came silently,