(Josie Sayz: This is the tenth story, from my ‘AMSND’ series that I wrote when I was 15 years old. This story follows in the series of the ‘AMSND’ stories, which inspired me to create the Arcturus High series. This story was actually inspired by the murder mystery episode of ‘Saved By The Bell’. The is also a dream story added in here, which my brother wrote, when he was 10 or 11 years old, which I have kept in for funsies.
Although each story is a stand alone piece, you can find the rest of the AMSND
series here:
1) A Magic School’s New Dream: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/01/ansnd-1-magic-schools-new-dream.html
2) The War of Crooked Burrow School: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/01/amsnd-2-war-of-crooked-burrow-school.html
3) Six Se’enarians Go To Sea: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/01/amsnd-3-six-senerians-go-to-sea.html
4) The Arrival of a New Headmistress: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/01/amsnd-4-arrival-of-new-headmistress.html
5) The Day Before the Last (Day of Term):
https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/01/amsnd-5-day-before-last-day-of-term.html
6) The Story of Crooked Burrow School: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/02/amsnd-6-story-of-crooked-burrow-school.html
7) The End of the Octopus: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/09/amsnd-7-end-of-octopus.html
8) The King of Magic: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/09/amsnd-8-king-of-magic.html
9) The Return of Dr Straizer, Featuring Agent 009: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2025/10/amsnd-9-return-of-dr-straizer-featuring.html.)
Fifteen-Eighty (Josie) Se’enarian Rivalry (my brother)
As the clock struck seven in the morning, a tall man dressed in a black suit and white shirt went to the front of the house in order to collect the newspaper for the day. He picked it up, folded it and placed it under his left arm, then made his way into the dining room. As he entered a familiar voice to him spoke out. “Crosby, would you be so kind as to fetch me today’s newspaper please?” she asked politely.
“Yes, me lady,” replied the man. “I have already done so.” He took the newspaper out from under his arm and handed it over to her.
“By the look from the main story, me lady, the press do not think that you reach out to children as much as they would have wished for you to,” Mr. Crosby informed her.
“Why, I am nearly eighty, what do they expect? As the Queen I surely cannot be expected to do everything,” she explained. She slowly lifted her cup of white coffee up from the saucer and raised it up to her mouth to take a sip. Before sipping her coffee, she placed the cup back down again. “Crosby, how about I offer sixteen invitations to my birthday party for sixteen children? What would the press make of that?”
“Well, me lady… any sixteen children?” Mr. Crosby frowned with serious concern.
“Oh, gosh no. Just sixteen children from the most outstanding school, and then they will be on their best behaviour no matter what happens and I can go back to being perfect in every way,” the Queen smiled to herself, and then, using her right hand she brushed her hair back behind her right ear.
“There is a slight problem, me lady… for it to be a fully safe event an adult must be with the children at all times,” he added, not wanting the Queen to get into trouble for a health and safety rule.
“Fine, we will allow a teacher travel with them. Well… what are you waiting for?” the Queen asked. Mr. Crosby hurried backwards out of the dining room, but almost immediately returned.
“Me lady… where exactly do I find sixteen kids and a teacher from?” Mr. Crosby asked.
“On the Internet of course! Look up ‘OFSTED reports’. Now hurry up, I don’t have all day. By the way, we are looking for sixteen children and not baby goats!” the Queen informed him.
“Yes me lady.” Mr. Crosby said as he hurried off to The Study.
“Goodness, must I do everything around here?” she sighed under her breath.
Monday morning arrived and all of the children in Crooked Burrow School were waiting outside their form room for tutorial. Lara, Lola, Toby and Drake were let into their form room by their form tutor, who waited for silence. She had an announcement to make. “Now class, you all know that the Queen’s eightieth birthday is coming up. So she has let sixteen children from this school and one teacher have an invitation to her party. A year group was drawn from a hat at random, and you, Year Nine, were chosen. Then from random the band was selected and blue band was chosen, again you,” she began, but he was interrupted by a huge class discussion. “WAIT! Five… four… three… two… one!” Their teacher waited for the class to become silent. “As Year Nine only has eight forms per Year, and four in each band, four people were selected from each form and again randomly.” She bent down to read the four names from off her laptop screen. “And they are Lara, Lola, Toby and Drake.”
“That is so NOT ‘random’,” Joanne shouted out. “That’s not fair – they’re all friends!”
“Not true; we’re not friends with Drake,” Lara shouted at her. “He’s an Art.”
“So?” Drake shouted.
“So, you fancy each other,” laughed Joanne.
“No we don’t!” Lara and Drake shouted at the same time.
“They agree on everything,” said Digby, who had just entered their form room, from the form group next door to give their form tutor a pile of paper work.
“We do not!” Lara and Drake shouted. Lola and Toby sniggered at them. Soon the whole form began to talk about the Queen’s birthday party.
“But Miss, that’s not fair. Why are Lara, Lola, Toby and Drake allowed to go and not me?” whined Joanne.
“I didn’t pick them; look there’s obviously a reason as to why they were all chosen,” their form tutor explained.
“So they weren’t “randomly” selected then?” Joanne said curiously.
“I didn’t say that,” glared their tutor at Joanne.
“You didn’t not say it,” smiled Lola.
“Tutor’s over, so you can go off to lessons,” announced their form tutor. Everyone got up from out of their seats and began to make their way to their lessons.
Lola quickly left Lara’s company to meet Lyra and explain to her the news about going to the Queen’s birthday party. As Lara was walking down the corridor she met Shada, Samantha, Larissa and Zilla on their way to Maths. “Hi guys. Who from your form’s invited to the Queen’s birthday party?” asked Lara hyperly.
“Me, Samantha, Laz… and Nicky,” smiled Shada.
“Cool! From my form there’s me, Lola, Toby and Drake,” grinned Lara.
“Why are you so happy? It’s the Queen’s party. It’s gonna be boring,” Samantha asked curiously. Lara shrugged.
“You guys aren’t invited to the Queen’s party too are you?” Lizzy said in a depressed tone as she ran over to Shada, Samantha, Larissa, Zilla and Lara, with Phoebe following her.
“They are, I’m not,” said Zilla sadly. “Why?”
“Don’t be sad, consider yourself the lucky one,” Lizzy said. “Well…me, Phoebe, Lyra and Tim were also picked for the Queen’s party-” began Lizzy but Phoebe interrupted her.
“And we know it’s gonna be lame. I mean how are we supposed to enjoy the Queen’s party, come on she’s like gonna be eighty, why would she want us, teenagers at her party?” complained Phoebe. Dannie and Tim came over to talk to the girls.
“Hey girls!” smiled Dannie and Tim.
“Hi Tim! Hi ‘Annie!” they smiled back.
“I heard that you’re going to the Queen’s party,” he began.
“Yeah, lucky us,” said Lizzy sarcastically.
“Well me, Tiny Tim, Lannie and Treg are going too,” Dannie complained.
“Wait a minute… what would the Queen want with me, Lizzy, Phoebe, Tim, Lola, Toby, Drake, Shada, Samantha, Larissa, Nicky, Annie, Tiny Tim, Lannie and Treg? We’re all friends,” Lara thought out loud. “Well to a certain degree.”
“I don’t know. All I know is that there’s a meeting tomorrow morning in the Greenwood. Don’t forget to tell the others,” Dannie told them, and then he and Tim ran down the Haunted Staircase.
“What do you mean: Bowling for Soup cannot make it to my birthday? Don’t they know who I am?” shrieked the Queen, falling back onto her white leather sofa. There was a small table beside the armchair opposite her. A flowery, lacy table cloth drooped down from the table, with a tall white telephone standing on top of it.
“I’m sorry me lady, but they are touring in America,” Mr. Crosby explained, placing the receiver back on the phone, and re-looking through the Yellow Pages.
“Well! What about that other band? Erm…I believe they call themselves Blink One Hundred and Eighty Two,” said the Queen, sitting up straight.
“I believe those boys from Blink 182 that you speak of split up earlier this year over money,” Mr. Crosby explained. He noticed the Queen’s saddened face. “I’m so sorry, me lady.”
“Well at least Green Day said that they would come. They did say that they would come, am I right?” she began to panic.
“Yes they did,” Mr. Crosby reassured her. The Queen sighed with relief. She picked up her iPod from the large coffee table in front of her. She put the earphones in her ears and hit the play button. Mr. Crosby could hear that she was listening to Greenday’s “American Idiot”.
Lyra, Lara, Lola and Toby entered the Greenwood early on Tuesday morning. They could just about hear that someone was playing Greenday’s “American Idiot” on iTunes on their laptop. Mr. Reffs, who usually sat at the front of the Greenwood, today was pacing frantically up and down. There weren’t as many people in the Greenwood this morning compared to usual, but this was because the Greenwood was reserved for the meeting about the Queen’s party. “Great, now everyone’s here,” Tim announced.
“Except for someone to hold the meeting,” Tiny Tim pointed out.
“Shut up,” Tim snapped, smiling. “No need to make me look stupid.”
“Maybe it’s him?” Lizzy said pointing at Mr. Reffs.
“Mr. Reffs…” Lara said as she walked over to him.
“What? Don’t do that again,” he exclaimed, shaking. He then continued anxiously pacing up and down. Then the door swung open.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone!” shouted Mr. Flourfield, jumping into the Greenwood. He walked over to everyone.
“Aagghh!” screamed Mr. Reffs, startled, and ran out of the Greenwood screaming. All of the children groaned as Mr. Flourfield approached them with stacks of paperwork.
A pale blue dress with white flowers and a darker blue cardigan reflected back through the mirror’s image to the Queen. Her dress designer placed the crown upon the Queen’s head. “NO!” shouted the Queen in anger. “The children will think that I’m not…oh, what is the word…erm…‘hip’ enough.” The Queen slowly stood down from a stool (that she was standing on to peer into the mirror), while holding her dress designer’s hand.
“Well what exactly do you think the kids want to see you in?” the Queen’s dress designer asked as she fiddled with the tape measure around her neck while chewing gum.
“I’ve sent for a bunch of teenagers, not pretty princesses. I want to look as ‘bad’ as possible,” the Queen explained using her fingers like quotation marks on the word bad.
“How ‘bad’, Your Majesty?” the dress designer asked trying not to laugh. The Queen wandered around room in a slow, calm fashion. On top of a huge pile of recently observed teen magazines was a ‘Top of the Pops’ magazine. On front of the cover was a model wearing baggy trousers and a black leather jacket.
“Like that,” the Queen pointed to the picture of the model on the front cover of the magazine.
“I’ll see what I can do,” smiled the Queen’s designer. She picked up a pair of fabric scissors and began to slightly open and close them repeatedly as she began to think.
The minibus pulled away from the school car park at four o’ clock on Sunday morning. “See kids, isn’t this fun?” Mr. Flourfield chuckled.
“Yeah, great,” they all mumbled with disappointment.
“Why are we leaving so early?” Tim whined, “It only takes two hours maximum to get to London.”
“Yeah!” everyone agreed.
“Our minibus driver is Mr. Reffs and he only passed his drivers test yesterday, which is why he had been so nervous lately. You all probably know that learner drivers are not allowed on motorways, well Mr. Reffs does not believe it to be safe to take sixteen young people on the motorway. He is absolutely terrified of driving this minibus with you all in, as he has never driven more than one person before. He also prefers to take scenic routes and drives at twenty miles per hour only, which is why it will take so long to get there,” Mr. Flourfield explained.
“What?” shrieked Lara.
“What happened to the other minibus drivers?” Toby whined with frustration.
“They just can’t make it. Now, everybody inside the bus!” ordered Mr. Flourfield. “And you Arians no magic funny business, you hear me?”
“Yes sir,” the Arians mumbled.
“I can’t hear you!?” shouted Mr. Flourfield.
“Yes sir,” groaned the Arians a little louder. Everyone took their seats on the minibus next to who they wanted to.
“Don’t expect me to speak to you,” Lara said harshly to Drake, who she was sitting next to. “I didn’t want to sit here. I didn’t have a choice,” she sulked.
”Don’t worry I feel the same way,” grumbled Drake. “But don’t take it out on me. I can’t help it if Shada’s with Samantha. Lyra’s next to Lola. Phoebe’s with Lizzy. Toby’s sitting by ‘Annie. I think Nicky and Larissa lost a bet with Jay and Drew and have to sit next to each other. Treg’s with Lannie and Tiny Tim’s with Tim,” Drake explained. “You could always have sat next to Mr. Flourfield,” Drake sniggered. Mr. Flourfield heard his name mentioned and turned around, so Lara and Drake quickly sank in their seats.
It was approaching half past seven in the morning. Everyone (except Mr. Reffs) was either asleep or almost asleep. Tim and ‘Annie’s seats were in line with each other, with the walkway in between them and they were holding hands. Lara was leaning against Drake whilst Drake was asleep against the window. It seemed that Shada and Samantha had fallen out because they were facing away from each other (back to back) but that was just coincidental as they were both asleep. Mr. Flourfield was sucking his thumb while holding his digital camera in the other hand. Larissa was leaning against Nicky’s left shoulder. Nicky slightly woke up and noticed Larissa was asleep, and then smiled to himself, leant against Larissa and continued to sleep. “I’ve got it!” Lizzy shouted, immediately sitting upright. Everyone groaned. Tim and ‘Annie screamed once they awoke to discover that they had been holding hands.
“Liz, what is it? We’re trying to sleep,” snapped Phoebe.
“I’ve figured out why all of us are invited to the Queen’s birthday party,” Lizzy proudly announced. Everyone groaned.
“Once you’ve told us all, can we then go back to sleep?” growled ‘Annie.
“Sure,” Lizzy smiled, full of energy. Everyone groaned again. “The Queen has got us all to go to her party, and we’re all friends…” Lizzy began.
“Sooo,” everyone moaned.
“Sooo,” Lizzy continued. “The Queen’s getting us all to be her servants to impress her guests.”
“We are her guests,” Phoebe sighed, losing her temper.
“Not us, I mean her important guests,” Lizzy explained.
“Oh, harsh!” cried Tim.
“I mean she’ll make us all work hard for her. AND…because we’re all friends we’ll all get on and set a good impression for the paparazzi, so the Queen gets a good reputation,” Lizzy finally finished.
“So we’re only going to give the Queen a good rep’?” frowned Drake. “And to be worked hard?”
“I’m not working for her,” Tiny Tim mumbled folding his arms.
“Well you better go back to sleep, so you can get enough rest to – just in case,” ordered Lizzy.
“Then don’t wake us up,” sighed Phoebe, resting her head against her jumper. “Actually,” Phoebe began cheerfully, “I’m going to tell all of you my dream.”
“No, I wanna go back to sleep,” whined Tim.
“It’ll only take a minute,” Phoebe told them. “Now… here it is. I call it Se’enarian Rivalry, bearing in mind this about my brother’s Year in Year Seven… except none of us are in it… and the people who are in it aren’t Se’enarians…”
“Well that’s dumb,” Nicky laughed.
“Shut it Smurf, this is my dream, so listen. It was a normal day at Crooked Burrow School for Kurt and his best friend Luke. They were in English with Mr. Faires. People had taken the mick out of his name for ages and called him Mr. Fairies. Just then Mr. Faires had an announcement to make.
“Okay class, I’m going to put you into a seating plan. This is because there will be a new boy coming any minute with Mr. Flourfield and I want him to feel welcome. His name is Andrew and he is twelve years old.” He moved them all into this seating plan:
Kurt raised his hand. “Sir, why is there a space next to me?”
“Because that’s where Andrew is going to sit,” replied Mr. Faires as Mr. Flourfield knocked on the door with the new boy beside him. He entered, and Mr. Faires told Andrew to sit next to Kurt. There was total silence. “Erm…okay let’s carry on with our work…erm, I’ll go and get Andrew a book and a pen and…”
Andrew interrupted Mr. Faires, “I have a pen, thank you very much!”
“Okay then…Kurt, tell Andrew what to do while I get Andrew’s book.” Kurt was already not liking Andrew and hoping he got a C4 right away. Mr. Faires just got back in with Andrew’s book and told everybody it was breakfast. “Okay, all of you can go, except Kurt. Kurt, can you stay behind, please?” asked Mr. Faires.
Kurt was just about to speak.
“Kurt, it was a rhetorical question! Now, are you okay? As soon as Andrew came in you seemed a bit upset.”
“Well the truth is…NO I’M NOT OKAY MR. FAIRES! I WANT TO MOVE! ANDREW IS A MENTAL CHAV, GANGSTER AND A FREAK! Thank you.” As Kurt was leaving, Mr. Faires wrote ‘Kurt C3’ on the whiteboard.
“Oh yes, and Kurt?” said Mr. Faires.
“WOT?” shouted Kurt, still not calmed down.
“You will be moving, tomorrow,” replied Mr. Faires.
“Really, cool!” began Kurt, but was interrupted.
“You will move into the Hall for a C3, after school.”
“OH WELL! WHO CARES, MR. FAIRIES? ARE YOU GONNA COME AND GET MY TOOTH TONIGHT? TOOTH FAIRY BOY! BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!”
“Okay, that’s it! C4! Get to Miss McBuff’s office now!” shouted Mr. Faires. As he made his way there, Luke, Whitney and Chloe were making their way back to lesson with the rest of the group.
“Now class, we had a little problem over breakfast, but it’s all okay now. So if you just take your seats that will be great…and, erm…Luke, go and sit by Andrew please, so you can show him what to do,” said Mr. Faires.
“Fine, if I have to,” muttered Luke under his breath. Then he asked, “But where’s Kurt?”
“Well he got a C4 because…” Mr. Faires began but Luke interrupted him.
“I NEED TO HEAR NO MORE MR. FAIRYCAKE MAN! GO ON GIVE ME A C4 MR. FAIRYCAKE! GO ON, OR ARE YOU SCARED? CHICKEN! CLUCK! CLUCK! CLUCK! MOOOOO! OINK! BOO!”
“Fine! C4! Get out of here now!” shouted Mr. Faires. After Luke had made his way to C4, Mr. Cartwheel came in and wanted to speak to the class.
“Mr. Faires is it true that you have had to give out two C4s this lesson?” asked Mr. Cartwheel.
“Well, yes it is,” replied Mr. Faires.
“Now class, just because you have only got two weeks left at school it doesn’t mean you can just mess around and not expect to get any consequences. Mr. Faires, if anyone even gets a C3, C2 or a C1 I want them to come and see me in the Hall.”
“Okay, thank you,” replied Mr. Faires.
As English was always a good two and a half hour lesson and only forty minutes had gone by, the class were all very bored and they kept messing around. Just five minutes after Mr. Cartwheel had left the room everyone was on a C1, including Andrew. Because the whole class had a consequence, Mr. Faires emailed Mr. Cartwheel instead, because he didn’t want the whole class leaving his lesson. As soon as Mr. Cartwheel had received and read the email he dropped what he was holding (which was only a teddy bear) and rushed straight to Mr. Faires’ classroom. “Is this right, Mr. Faires? Have the whole class got C1s?” shouted Mr. Cartwheel.
“Well now they have all got C2s…but what you said, well, shouted, is very true because you can’t get a C2 without a C1,” replied Mr. Faires.
“I’ve got no time for your wiffle-waffle, Mr. Faires! This class is a disgrace! And Andrew, I am especially disappointed in you. It’s your first day, and your first lesson, and your-”
“Can you get to the point?” grunted Matt.
“Okay that’s a C3 for you and yes, I will get to the point. ANDREW!”
“YES SIR!” shouted Andrew.
“You could get a C3 and it’s your-”
“I told you, only tell us the important stuff,” moaned Matt.
“Okay Andrew,” replied Mr. Cartwheel.
“What?” grunted Andrew.
“I’m gonna make you PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!”
“Really?” Andrew shouted out.
“NO! Adios!” replied Mr. Cartwheel.
“Why that little…” Andrew whispered to himself.
“Don’t talk to Mr. Cartwheel like that! Do you want a C3 on your first lesson?” asked Mr. Faires.
“Well to be honest I don’t care, but if I had to choose then no,” replied Andrew. And with that it was quarter to twelve and everybody went to their Tutor lesson. Mr. Faires was so annoyed that he just stormed out of school and started jumping on his car. Obviously this was stupid, as then he had to buy a new one. The days continued like this, except Mr. Faires didn’t jump on his car anymore, he jumped on Mr. Sniff’s car instead. Mr. Sniff also got his name took the mick out of, because sniffing is associated with the nose, which is associated with bogies. So whenever anyone saw him they shouted: “Bogies!”
Then the happiest day of Mr. Faires life came. The kids broke up. Mr. Faires shouted at the top of his voice, “WOOOOHOOOO!” And plus all of that the kids had 8 weeks off because there were so many changes going on in the school.
“No more headaches, no more jumping on Mr. Sniff’s car!” shouted Mr. Faires.
“You what?” screamed Mr. Sniff.
“Oh you thought I said ‘no more jumping on Mr. Sniff’s car’, oh no I said ‘no more pumping in my Jaguar’ – they both sound the same don’t they? Oh well have a good six weeks off well eight but you know what I mean don’t you?” replied Mr. Faires.
“Get out of school now if you want to live till you’re sixty… oops wait, you’re already over sixty, let’s make that ninety!” exclaimed Mr. Sniff. Back at Kurt’s house in Maycotts Heath he was already bored and it was only a week into the holiday.
“Kurt, just because it’s wet and you can’t play football in the garden it doesn’t mean you can’t do anything else, like play on the computer,” Kurt’s Mum told him.
“But Mum, the computer’s broke, remember?” Kurt replied.
“Oh, sorry. Why don’t you go to Luke’s house?” asked his Mum.
“Luke’s sick,” moaned Kurt.
“What about Bilal?” his Mum asked.
“Bilal’s in Spain,” Kurt grumbled.
The boredom continued throughout the whole holiday except the last week. The sun had finally come out and Kurt, Luke and Bilal were allowed to go to the park. Bilal wasn’t one of their best friends and he just came to play on the swings. Kurt and Luke had so much fun there. Because it was the last week of the holiday they went every day except Wednesday and Saturday. They talked about when they got C4s and when Mr. Cartwheel said Andrew could be the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, and wondering what forms and colleges they would be in for next year. Just then out of nowhere Andrew appeared with all of his mates; Harry, Sophie and Oz. Unfortunately for Andrew none of them were in his English or Maths class. But Kurt liked it because it stopped him from being so mean.
“Why did you call me a chav?” shouted Andrew.
“I didn’t; now go away!” replied Kurt.
“You don’t think I’m going to ask you a question and then walk away! I know you called me a chav, so why?” Andrew exclaimed.
Kurt couldn’t stand it so he threw out a furious punch right into Andrew’s eye. Andrew fell down within about two seconds so Harry and Oz each punched one of Kurt’s eyes. It seemed to be turning into World War III. As Kurt dropped down as fast as light Luke finished off the fight by kicking Andrew’s arm as he lay on the floor. With that Luke picked up Kurt and ran out of the park with Bilal quicker than he’d ever run before. So as Kurt had two black eyes and Andrew had a black eye and a broken arm it was all forgotten… or was it?” Phoebe finished.
“Well that was worth listening to,” Lizzy said sarcastically.
“Well you woke us up, it was your fault!” Phoebe raged.
“It’s not my fault you have a crush on Mr. Mr. Faires and have to dream about him every night,” Lizzy said nastily. She didn’t mean to be horrible to her best friend; she was just tired and was usually grumpy when she was tired. “And anyway Mr. Cartwheel’s dead!”
“I know Mr. Cartwheel’s dead I’m not stupid! And you know I don’t fancy Mr. Cartwheel, I li-” Phoebe froze. “Wait a minute it was your fault I told you all about my dream anyway!” Everyone groaned.
“My fault? I only told you my idea for us going to the Queen’s party. I had nothing to do with your dream!” Lizzy shouted back.
“I don’t care whose fault it was,” bellowed Mr. Flourfield with anger. “I just want you all to go back to sleep until we get there.”
“Yes sir,” they all mumbled and tried to get back to sleep.
Clouds cleared and the sun blazed down onto the stage that had been set up outside the Queen’s palace. The paparazzi piled up in their thousands outside the palace gates just to catch a glimpse of the Queen on her birthday. The garden grounds were filled with butlers and maids putting the final touches to the Queen’s birthday. Then the bossing began. “No! Not there, place it over there,” pointed the Queen.
“Yes me lady,” sighed one of the many butlers.
“No, no, no! That belongs over there,” insisted the Queen.
“Yes, ma’am,” sighed one of the maids.
The sound of a minibus could be heard pulling up to the front huge iron gates. Thousands of cameras took thousands of pictures, the flash blinding the children in the minibus. “Now Crosby, they have arrived,” grinned the Queen, pushing the button to open the huge gates. The children all entered the Queen’s palace, accompanied by Mr. Flourfield. They waved goodbye to Mr. Reffs (who was glad to see them go. He was going to find a car park to have a nice long nap) and he drove off into the distance. The Queen pushed a button on her remote control, which ordered the huge iron gates to close (before any paparazzi could get in), and put the remote into one of her several pockets. Then she went out to greet her young guests. The sixteen children stood there shocked with their mouths open. Coming towards them was the Queen, wearing long black baggy trousers and a black leather jacket (which belonged to her dress designer). “Hello children. I hope you enjoy yourselves… I mean… ‘what’s up’? And… erm… hope you have a ‘wicked’ time,” the Queen grinned, thinking she had made a good impression on the children, but it didn’t seem to have worked.
“What?” Phoebe whispered to Lizzy with a puzzled expression (who had now both forgotten about the argument which they had earlier and were friends again).
“What is wrong? Do I not look ‘bad’ enough?” the Queen asked.
“Your Majesty –” Toby began hesitantly, but was too nervous to continue.
“Let’s go to the entertainment, shall we?” the Queen insisted. She had realised that it wasn’t going very well and was beginning to worry. Greenday (the only band that said they would come) were up on the stage waiting to perform.
After the performance was over all of the children were full of energy. Now they were having a tour around Buckingham Palace. Ceilings had huge chandeliers dangling from them. Walls were full of paintings of all the royal family from years back. Time was moving fast, and the children had school the next day. Mr. Flourfield left the crowd to go and phone Mr. Reffs to come back and pick them up soon. Only the Queen and her personal butler, Mr. Crosby, were left to look after all sixteen children. “Now if you slide down there, you’ll land in my personal library,” the Queen said, pointing at a hole in the ground, where a small slide which was long enough to sit a very small child was. One by one each of the children sat on the slide then fell all of the way down onto the ground of the library.
“Ouch!” ‘Annie yelled as Tim fell on top of him.
As soon as everyone was down the Queen said, “Well thank you ever so much for staying. Now on the front pages of the newspapers will be me – a person who cares about children. I have to go, hope you enjoy “hanging around”, ciao!” She closed up the hole in the floor, removing the slide.
“Oh Crosby, please get me away from here. I must get out of these ridiculous clothes!”
“Right away, me lady.” Mr. Crosby walked the Queen to her main bedroom.
It was just past quarter past three when Mr. Flourfield came back inside the palace to collect the children. He couldn’t find anyone. “Fifteen eighteen,” he mumbled to himself looking at his watch and then he chuckled as he looked up and saw a painting of Elizabeth I painted in 1580. Buckingham Palace was too big, so he decided that maybe it was safer for him to wait for the minibus for the children, so that he didn’t get lost.
Meanwhile the Queen and Mr. Crosby were discussing the next part of their plan. “We can’t keep all of those children locked in there. You do know that, don’t you, me lady?” Mr. Crosby asked the Queen.
“Yes of course I know that. It’s just that I wanted to show the world that I was friendly to children, even to the worst type: teenagers. I was so stupid; I should have taken ten-year-old girls. I should have realised that they could tell I was faking everything and that they could tell the newspapers-” the Queen cried.
“But what are we to do? Surely their weird teacher would have noticed that they are missing. What are we to do?” Mr. Crosby panicked, making odd hand gestures.
“Hypnosis,” stated the queen. “We get them hypnotised…”
All of the children were now bored and they had only been in the room for half an hour. “When do you think they’ll come back?” Treg asked dopily.
“They’re not coming back Treg,” Phoebe said nastily.
“We’re never getting out,” Lara sighed feeling depressed as she sat down beside Drake. Larissa lay down on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Shada and Samantha were whispering on the other side of the room (since sitting next to each other on the mini bus appeared to be ignoring her). Nicky noticed that Larissa was on her own, so went over to talk to her. Phoebe glared over at them evilly.
“What d’you want?” Larissa mumbled as she saw Nicky sit beside her.
“I was only gonna ask what’s wrong. Seeing as I’m not talking to anyone here and you’re on your own, and your friends are over there and-” Nicky babbled.
“Would you just shut up?!” Larissa said harshly. “I don’t want you talking to me. I don’t want anyone talking to me. Just – go – away. Go talk to your whiny girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Nicky puzzled.
“Yeah, Lyra,” she replied miserably.
“We broke up a couple of weeks ago,” Nicky said disgustedly and walked off over to everyone else. As he walked away Larissa sat up and watched him go and she smiled to herself.
“Guys,” ‘Annie spoke out, standing in the middle of the room. Everyone turned towards him. “Look, they can’t leave us in here forever. Mr. Flourfield’ll be here any minute. In the meantime there are loads of books; we might as well read one.” There were no windows inside the library, just light from two electrical chandeliers (one on either side of the place where the slide had been). Three of the four walls had towering bookcases and there were wooden stepladders with wheels on the bottom, so that you could move the ladders in order to reach a book on the top shelf, as it was too high for an ordinary person to reach.
Mr. Reffs had begun to panic. He was now outside of Buckingham Palace with Mr. Flourfield. “We are going to be late,” panicked Mr. Reffs, “parents will complain. I’ll be in trouble with the school. I’ll probably lose my licence and I only just got it and-”
“Calm down George everything’ll be fine. They’re only running a tad late,” Mr. Flourfield reassured the now hyperventilating mini bus driver.
“Half five,” sighed Drake feeling very bored as he put away a book.
“And just a gazillion more hours to go,” Tim grumbled. Toby began rummaging around in his backpack. Lola stared at him interestedly.
“Toby, what are you looking for?” Lola asked him.
“I’ve just remembered something… I’ve got my mobile phone in my bag,” he replied. Everyone turned around and stared angrily at him. “What?” he said as he noticed everyone’s scowling stares.
“Call for help then,” Lara said nastily.
“Why didn’t you think of that hours ago you… you… you… stupid boy,” Phoebe shouted managing to stop herself from swearing.
“Erm… guys…” hesitated Toby. Everyone looked at Toby with different expressions. “Don’t be mad…” Toby began. “But my battery’s dead.”
“Toby!” they all sighed disappointedly.
“It’s not my fault,” he sulked.
“Don’t pick on Toby,” Lola said harshly. Tim walked over to one of the many bookshelves and glanced at one of the million books.
“Hey! Shada!” Larissa called interestedly, forgetting that Shada and Samantha hadn’t been talking to her all day.
“What?” Shada asked, intrigued, making her way over to the bookcase with Samantha.
“You know the story about who founded Crooked Burrow School, don’t you?” Larissa asked making sure she had got everything right.
“Yeah, of course I do. Bert’s told me loads of times, why?” questioned Shada worriedly.
“His name was Albertus, wasn’t it?” Larissa checked.
“Yep, that’s right,” Shada nodded.
“Did Bert ever tell you Albertus’ surname?” Larissa asked curiously. Shada thought for a while, but then shook her head. Larissa got a book down from off the bookshelf that she had been looking at for some time. “Look,” Larissa handed it to Shada and Samantha looked over Shada’s shoulder.
“The Black Art of Magic and My Crooked Burrow Secrets: Autobiography: Caan, Albertus,” Larissa read. Shada, Samantha and Larissa all looked at each other.
At least three hours went by and the children were starting to get a little sick of each others’ company. “We need to get out of here,” Lara claimed.
“Well we all know that,” Toby yawned. “Stupid.”
“Leave Lara alone, at least she’s trying to help!” Drake shouted.
“Ooow, sticking up for your girlfriend,” Toby laughed nastily.
“Everyone just calm down, we can think of a way out of this!” Lyra yelled trying to take charge.
“Ow,” moaned Phoebe. “I’m so hungry I could eat one of those books.”
“Yuck!” exclaimed Lizzy. “Are you mad?”
“No, I’m hungry,” Phoebe replied matter-of-factly. Lizzy and Phoebe were sitting up against part of a bookcase. Lyra, Lola and Lara were whispering on the other side of the room. Shada, Samantha and Larissa were lying on the floor staring at the chandeliers playing a guessing game, while all of the boys tried to stack books up in a pyramid.
“I’ve just remembered something,” Treg announced.
“You remembered you’re a boy. Well done, congratulations,” Larissa said sarcastically.
“No,” Treg snapped evilly. “I’ve got food in my bag,” he cheered.
“You only just remembered,” Lizzy sighed in frustration.
“At least we’ve got some food to eat, we won’t completely starve,” Lannie told everyone optimistically.
“Yet,” mumbled Tiny Tim. Treg got out his bag, put his hand in and started rummaging around.
“Treg, your bag’s not that big, surely you can find it,” ‘Annie stomped his foot becoming impatient. After looking inside his bag Treg looked up with a worried look. Tim (who was starving) scowled at him.
“I kind of got hungry,” Treg smiled cheekily, “I have one chocolate bar. It’s squished, but if we all take teeny bite I think it will-”
“Treg, how did you manage to get hungry? When did you have time to eat?” Tim raged.
“There’s always time to eat,” Treg cheered sniggering at how much he had annoyed everyone. Tim snatched the chocolate bar out of Treg’s hand.
“If we all take a teeny bite, it could last for all of us,” ‘Annie said trying his hardest to be optimistic. Not taking care, Tim ripped open the bar of chocolate and took a big-ish bite.
“Tim!” the girls screeched.
“I’m not eating from that after him,” Shada stated.
“You can have some after me then,” Larissa told Shada to try and cheer her up. “That is if there’s any left,” she mumbled under her breath. Dannie took the chocolate off Tim, took a nibble and passed it around.
The chocolate bar had been finished. Everyone now felt even hungrier than they had before, even Samantha – who was never hungry. “Why did we have to come here with Mr. Flourfield?” Nicky sulked. “He doesn’t care about us, he doesn’t care about me anyway,” he mumbled sadly.
“Nobody cares about you,” Toby laughed.
“Cheers!” sighed Nicky, depressed.
“Toby you’re not very nice,” Drake frowned at Toby’s mean remark. “You’re both Musics and you’re still mean to him.” Phoebe quickly looked up and glared at Toby, as she had been listening to their conversation. Tim went over to Phoebe, as he saw that she seemed sad and gave her a hug for behind, resting his head on her small shoulder.
“I bet you wish it was Nicky,” mumbled Lizzy, who was stood next to Phoebe. Phoebe hadn’t heard what Lizzy had said, but she had heard her say something, so Phoebe looked confusedly at her friend. “What?” Lizzy asked worriedly. “I said: I bet you fish it is sticky.”
“Music, Smusic. We’re all in this together,” ‘Annie began taking charge, continuing Toby, Nicky and Drake’s conversation. “We need to forget about the war of who prefers Music and Art. We need to find a way out of here.”
“Everyone, Samantha has an idea. Why doesn’t someone try to climb up the bookcase, then they’d be able to reach the chandelier thingy and be able to open the trapdoor?” Shada explained feeling rather energetic.
“Good plan, but nobody’s climbing up that bookcase, it’s not safe. It couldn’t support anyone’s weight,” ‘Annie said, taking the sensible side for once.
“Oh! I’d do it!” cried Tim.
“Yeah, let’s let him and see him fall. It’d be funny,” Phoebe laughed.
“NO!” everybody but Phoebe and Tim yelled.
“Hey, why couldn’t Sam tell us herself?” asked Treg maliciously.
“She’s shy,” Shada whispered. Samantha blushed. Everyone began to look fed up and bored. Larissa clicked her fingers on her left hand, and then sprang up.
“What’s up with you, jumpy?” asked Nicky.
“It’s just come to me! Everyone, listen. The Queen obviously doesn’t get down here the same way we did. There’s got to be another way out, a hidden lever or something.”
“You watch too many movies,” Lannie laughed spitefully.
“It took you five and a half hours to realise that,” Dannie said trying to make Larissa seem stupid in front of everybody.
“Well how come you didn’t think of it then?” she replied nastily.
“This place is probably as big as our school Hall, and just as tall, so if we tried to remove all of these books to search for a switch behind them in the bookcases then it will take weeks and we’ll probably die before we find it,” Drake said pessimistically.
“Maybe not a book, there could be a panel at the side of the wall or something,” Larissa suggested. No one seemed to believe her.
“This will be it then. If we’re all gonna say our last goodbyes then we had better start now!” ‘Annie took the lead of everyone – being the tallest. Nicky could sense that ‘Annie’s speech was going to be boring so he stood up and made his way over to the only wall where there wasn’t a bookcase. He looked at the wall interestedly. It was an open fireplace and only a bit smaller, thinner and shorter than a doorway. He looked at the plastic candleholder that was screwed to the wall. ‘Annie took a deep breath, “If this is it then I want to go first. I just want to say… Shada… I’ve always loved you.” ‘Annie shut his eyes, kneeling on the floor in front of Shada so that he was a little shorter than her head height, and holding his hands out in true ‘Dramatic Dannie’ fashion. Everyone laughed at this ridiculous pose and also at Shada as she turned bright red with embarrassment that ‘Annie had chosen her name to say.
“Larissa, you know when you said to find a hidden lever, do you really think that if I turn this candleholder the fire place will open up,” Nicky said sarcastically, to get the attention away from Dannie and Shada and to make Larissa seem stupid in front of everyone. Nicky turned the candleholder and to everyone’s surprise a panel behind the fireplace rose up. It was now Nicky’s turn to go red with embarrassment, as he had never meant for it to happen. Everyone ran over to Nicky and hugged him, because they could now escape.
“Everyone into the tunnel,” announced ‘Annie.
“Why? We don’t even know where it goes!” Treg pointed out in his usual annoying way.
“Anywhere’s better than being trapped in here, let’s go,” ‘Annie replied. “Now everyone go silently and hold hands, so we don’t loose anybody, it’s awfully dark in there,” he instructed. Everyone entered the tunnel one by one. They were following Nicky; after all, he was the one who had found it. Phoebe went next, followed by Lizzy who teased Phoebe for being next to Nicky, then Lara who was teased by Lyra for not being near Drake, Lyra, Lola, Toby, Shada, Samantha, Larissa, Treg, Lannie, Drake, Tiny Tim, Tim and ‘Annie. ‘Annie stayed at the back to guard everyone from anything that might come down the trapdoor and into the tunnel. He left the fireplace panel open just in case the passage led nowhere and he might have locked them in by shutting it.
The Queen and Mr. Crosby were feeling extremely nervous about what to do with sixteen children. Mr. Crosby had nibbled away all of his fingernails and was now beginning to chew on his fingers. They were sitting on the settee facing the television set (which was not on) in the sitting room. The fireplace was far behind them at the back of the room. The panel behind it opened and all of the children crept out of the tunnel and into the room that the Queen and Mr. Crosby were in and closed the panel behind them. They sneaked out of the door to the Queen’s sitting room, but listened to the Queen and Mr. Crosby’s conversation. “When we hire a hypnotist to hypnotise the children, we do not have to give them back to their parent, you know. We could sell them. Make a profit. We can sell them for a thousand pounds each. We could make sixteen thousand pounds, just imagine, Crosby,” the Queen smiled. “I can finally get the renovation started on my roof.”
“I love it me lady, I love it,” smiled Mr. Crosby rubbing his hands together.
“Sell us?” Samantha shrieked with horror. Shada placed her hand over Samantha’s mouth.
“You barely speak out loud all day and when you do you get us all in trouble,” whispered Shada.
“Guys, don’t worry – I have a plan,” whispered ‘Annie putting his arms around Tim and Lannie. “Look, all I need is for you Lyra and Lara, Lola and Larissa to go to find out how you open that trapdoor-slide-thingy. Shada, Samantha, Phoebe and Lizzy, you group go to find something to grease the floor by the trap door, but leave a small path down the right-hand side.”
“Right-hand side got it,” repeated Shada to prove she was listening.
“And what are you boys gonna do?” Phoebe asked interestedly.
“Sweet-talk one of the cute maids into giving us her keys to lock this door,” Annie smiled. “Now go!” It only took them ten minutes to set up ‘Annie’s plan, but no one could really guess how ‘Annie was actually going to accomplish it.
“’Annie, you’re nuts. What’s all this for?” Lizzy asked feeling confused.
“Alright – someone gets the Queen and Mr. Crosby; I think that’s his name, to chase them down the hallway. Now the Queen and Mr. Crosby will slip on the grease and fall through the trap door to the library.”
“Yeah, but the passage way is still open!” Tim stated trying to prove that ‘Annie wasn’t smart enough to think up a plan.
“They know how to open it anyway, stupid! They’ll run down the passageway, thinking they can get back into the sitting room and out from there. But they won’t be able to because the door will be locked. Mr. Crosby may have a set of keys, so we’ll have to keep the key in the lock, turned sideways, so his key won’t fit through the lock. Then we have to go and make sure that no one opens the door until the police get here and arrest them. Now all we need is for someone to be the bait.”
“Wait!” cried Treg. “Couldn’t we just get a key and lock them in and keep them in there without all this bother?” he asked, pointing at the grease by the trapdoor.
“Oh, spoil my plan now why don’t you?” remarked ‘Annie, disheartened. “Shut up Treg. Anyway, who here thinks that the Queen and Mr. Crosby both deserve to lose some weight?”
Everyone shouted yes and the door to the sitting room slammed shut. The Queen obviously could not abide loud noises, but hadn’t realised who had made that particular loud noise.
“Well, you’ve obviously thought this through very well. So because you came up with this crazy idea, I think you should be the bait,” Lizzy decided. “Whoever’s in favour of ‘Annie being bait, raise your hand.” Everyone but ‘Annie and Treg raised their hands.
“I’ll do it,” giggled Treg.
“’Annie, it looks like it’s you,” Lizzy pointed out.
“Okay! You guys run and hide around that corner after the trapdoor,” ‘Annie said. They all ran and hid. Tim opened the Queen’s sitting room door and said politely “Could either of you direct me to the bathroom? I haven’t been all night.”
“That is one of them! They must have escaped!” shrieked the Queen. “Get him!” She ran after ‘Annie, Mr. Crosby following close behind. The Queen was now wearing her usual styled dress like an old grandmother (which she was – she also enjoyed knitting) and this did not help her. The dress billowed out behind her making running difficult. ‘Annie quickly sprinted down the right-hand side of the trapdoor but the Queen, thinking she could catch him up if she ran in the middle, slipped on the grease and fell straight through the now open trapdoor. Mr. Crosby skidded in too, and fell down behind her. As soon as they were inside Lara locked the trap door. Then all of the children ran towards the sitting room, locked the door and left the key in the lock. Now there was no way the Queen and Mr. Crosby could escape.
“Yes!” they all shouted.
“We did it,” ‘Annie cheered. “Now Beatrice,” (she was the maid the boys had got a set of keys from) “promise me that you will NOT take the keys out of the door or open the door for any reason until the police get here and ask to see them, okay?”
“I promise – but the police?” gasped Beatrice.
“Don’t worry; I got Toby to send for them. Well, bye… and don’t forget, not until the police say so, not even if they beg, bribe, scream or shout,” ‘Annie explained. Another maid then showed them all out of Buckingham Palace.
It was quarter past nine on the night. All of the children clambered into the minibus. Mr. Flourfield and Mr. Reffs were amazed that they were all alright. They demanded that on the journey back all of them would explain what happened as to where they had been and why they had not told Mr. Flourfield or Mr. Reffs that they were going to be so late.
It was quarter past four in the morning by the time that they reached the Crooked Burrow School. Mr. Reffs was the only one still awake by the time they reached the school and parked the mini-bus around the corner just off the road. He was so tired that before he could even wake Mr. Flourfield up he had fallen fast asleep. They slept for a while in the minibus, and at about eight o’clock Mr. Flourfield awoke by the sound of car doors slamming. As he opened his eyes he saw a police car. An officer, who had just got out of the car, walked over to the mini bus and knocked on the window, Mr. Flourfield opened the door and stepped out. “What seems to be the problem officer?” worried Mr. Flourfield.
“Are these the sixteen children who went on a trip to visit the Queen and never returned?” the officer asked.
“You could say so…” Mr. Flourfield replied.
None of the teachers were teaching because they had all heard on the news that the sixteen children who had gone to the Queen’s birthday party had gone missing. The school was empty, except for the teachers, and students from Year Nine from blue band (but only the friends of the children who were missing like Zilla) and some people from the Arian meetings, who were friends of the children that were thought to be missing (like Ariel, Pete and Elly). Everyone who was in school was sitting, silent and worried, in the Hall.
Suddenly the door to the Hall swung open. Mr. Flourfield, Mr.Reffs and a police officer entered the Hall. “Good news! They’re all right!” Mr. Flourfield shouted. Everyone cheered really loudly.
“Well, where are they then?” someone asked.
“Asleep in the minibus, come and see,” Mr. Flourfield replied. Everyone ran outside to see the sixteen lucky or in their case unlucky children fast asleep. Lyra and Lola had their heads facing each other but with the tops of their heads colliding. Phoebe was leaning on Lizzy’s jacket as a pillow. Samantha and Shada were sharing Shada’s jumper as a pillow. Drake and Lara were sleeping with their coats as pillows while Drake had his arm around Lara. Larissa had her head against Nicky’s shoulder. Toby was leaning against the window while sitting next to ‘Annie, who had ended up holding Tim’s hand again, as Tim was leaning his other arm against Tiny Tim. Treg was left hugging Lannie in his sleep.
BANG! The police slammed open the sitting room door in Buckingham Palace. “Oh officer, I’m so glad you’re here,” gasped the Queen, acting very innocent. One of the officers walked over to her. The other officer approached her butler, Mr. Crosby.
“Don’t go acting all innocent with me, Missy,” the officer spoke in a deep voice. He stepped behind the Queen and handcuffed her.
“Missy, who are you calling Missy?” struggled the Queen.
“It was those children; they put us up to it. Don’t lock us up. We didn’t mean to kidnap them, then plan to hypnotise them so that they wouldn’t remember anything, and then sell them to strangers for a thousand pounds each,” Mr. Crosby confessed. The other officer handcuffed him.
“Thanks for that information,” one of the officers spoke.
“Well done, Crosby,” the Queen said sarcastically. The two officers dragged the Queen and her butler to the police car. Before both of them were pushed into the car by separate doors, the Queen noticed that all of her servants, maids, butlers, cooks and laundry people had come out of the palace and were standing outside the front door, curious to know what was going on. Just before the Queen and Mr. Crosby were thrown into the police car, they both shouted: “And we would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for those meddling kids!”
- Josie -
