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How To Hypnotise A Droid Page 3


  ‘But you’ve done this before!’ I said desperately. ‘What’s different?’

  ‘Other than him being a robotic chicken?’ Pops said. ‘Oh, and maybe that he’s not sick.’

  ‘Strike Me Down!’

  I exclaimed. ‘That’s it!’ I had an idea. It had to work. Because I was DEADER THAN DEAD if it didn’t.

  I flung open the fridge and took out Mum’s leftover vegan stew.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Pops asked, gagging when I opened the plastic container.

  ‘This smells worse than a dog’s fart that’s been farting,’ I said. My friend’s eyes went wide, but for once he didn’t look worried. He just pinched his nose and grinned at me.

  Frenchy barked at me. Like I said, I don’t speak French but I was pretty sure he was saying that not even HIS farts smelt that bad.

  ‘Are you back online?’I asked the droid.

  ‘Please wait 8.45 seconds.’

  ‘I just want to see if you can eat human food,’ I said, when the light in the droid-chicken’s eyes flicked on.

  ‘A droid can eat anything,’ he said. ‘But food is not transformed into energy like it is in humans.’

  ‘Try this,’ I said, holding my nose. Carefully – CAREFULLY – I put the stinky container of vegan stew on the ground.

  The droid-chicken pecked at the stew, just like a real chicken pecks at food. At first, nothing happened.

  But a few minutes later, the droid-chicken started wobbling on his clawy chicken feet.

  His feathers started drooping and then shaking and then . . .

  The droid-chicken’s feathers flew off his mechanical wings, right in our faces!

  Frenchy snapped at the floating feathers in delight. He started barking.

  There were feathers everywhere! It was like Pops and I had just had a pillow fight, right there in the kitchen.

  But Frenchy’s barking was getting out of control.

  ‘Shhhhh,’ I shout-whispered at him.

  But he paid me no notice. This was bad. His barking was going to . . .

  . . . set off Mr Moustache Man!

  Oh no. This was getting

  ‘What’s going on in there?’ a voice thundered from outside our apartment.

  ‘Ummmm,’ I said.

  Because how do you explain the noise made by a French bulldog chasing the feathers of a gigantic robotic chicken who’s feeling sick after eating Mum’s vegan stew?

  ‘Sorry,’ I called, ‘Frenchy saw a chicken on YouTube and went crazy!’

  ‘YouTube bahhhh,’ he shouted through the apartment door. ‘Don’t you kids get given homework these days? this is your second warning this week. One more warning and that dog will have to go!’

  The feathers had stopped falling, which meant Frenchy stopped barking. Finally.

  ‘We’re watching Worst Cat Stacks now, so Frenchy’s calmed down,’ I shouted, but there was no answer. Mr Moustache Man must have gone off in a huff.

  ‘W-h-a-a-a-a-t h-a-p-p-e-n-e-d?’ the now featherless robotic chicken asked slowly, in a voice that sounded like he needed charging.

  ‘We’ve done it,’ I whispered to Pops. To the robotic chicken, I said, ‘I think Mum’s vegan stew has made you sick.’

  ‘Negative. I am not “sick” as you might say in human terms,’ the droid-chicken clucked. ‘But my core programming does seem to have a virus.’

  Yep, even the best artificial intelligence in the world can’t eat Mum’s vegan stew.

  ‘Well, Pops is an expert in curing sick chickens,’ I said. ‘He’s going to help get rid of your virus.’

  The robotic chicken nodded weakly. ‘Thank you. I am finding it hard to compute what is happening.’

  ‘Do your thing,’ I said, winking at Pops.

  And that’s when Pops started hypnotising the droid to wipe his memory for real. He rubbed the robotic chicken’s head. He even did some weird flapping movements, like he was imitating a chicken trying to fly.

  And, finally, he held his finger in front of the chicken’s eyes and slowly moved it from left to right.

  The robotic chicken kept watching Pops’ hand swing from side to side. The rest of him was totally still. Before we knew it, the featherless robotic chicken was lying, as stiff as a board, on the floor.

  ‘SYSTEM SHUT-DOWN,’ announced a slow computerised voice from within the droid.

  ‘You’re a total genius, Pops!’ I cried.

  What a best friend. FAT-FREE TROUBLE was finally coming my way!

  Pops grinned and we jumped up for our special ‘air-high-five’ over the top of the unconscious droid-chicken lying on my kitchen floor.

  ‘So, is his memory wiped?’ I asked.

  Pops bit his lip, and then shook his head. ‘Honestly, I’m not sure. Hypnotising him only really puts him to sleep. If he’s like any normal computer, his memory chip will be totally fine.’

  I nodded. Yep. There was still a little bit of trouble left!

  But . . .

  I had a feeling I knew exactly what had to be done.

  It was going to be totally gross. I hope you don’t get that case of SSP (SUDDEN SICK PANTS) that I warned you about before.

  ‘We’ve only got one option left,’ I said, pushing up the sleeve of my hoodie. ‘I’m going to find his memory chip. Wish me luck!’

  ‘Oh no,’ Pops said, a look of horror on his face. ‘Don’t do it!’

  He knew exactly what I was thinking. Or should I say, he knew exactly what I was stinking!

  Either I had to do one of the GROSSEST things ever, or my droid would be turned into scrap metal.

  I stopped.

  Did you notice that I just said my droid? We’d only had one crazy day together, but already the droid felt like he was mine. Like I’d miss him if he were gone.

  Like perhaps he was already more to me than just a droid.

  And that’s when I put my finger up the robotic-chicken’s bum.

  ‘Yuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkk!’ Pops said, his face scrunching up like he’d just eaten ten sherbet bombs and five lemons at the same time.

  ‘You’re telling me,’ I muttered to Pops as I moved my fingers around, searching for something that could be a memory chip.

  I can tell you, it wasn’t pleasant.

  No one wants to put their hand inside a chicken’s bum, even a robotic one. And this was no ordinary-sized robotic chicken. My arm was in all the way up to my elbow. I was feeling through all sorts of cables and electrical pieces.

  I finally pulled my hand out from deep inside the bottom of the world’s most powerful artificially intelligent robotic chicken.

  ‘Wow, Pops said. ‘That was awesome. Gross, but awesome.’

  In my hand was the memory chip.

  ‘You didn’t open the box, did you?’ Mum asked, the moment she put her briefcase down on the kitchen bench.

  ‘Ummm no,’ I said, trying not to look at Frenchy. ‘I didn’t.’

  Thankfully Frenchy was lying in his little bed next to the balcony. He was tuckered out from all that feather-catching.

  ‘Good, because we’d both be in deep trouble with the government if anyone found out about this,’ she said. ‘And I wanted to take you through the safety procedures first.’

  Yikes. I had my fingers, toes and even my eyes crossed, hoping that I had wiped the droid’s memory.

  The funny thing was, another part of me felt sad that my droid would never remember our first day together. There it is – I said it again. My droid.

  Mum looked over at me. ‘Can you guess what’s inside?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Press that button,’ she told me, pointing.

  For the first time – officially – I pressed the red button, and a giant robotic chicken flew out of the box.

  ‘Strike Me Down!’ I yelled. Even I hadn’t been expecting the robotic chicken again!

  ‘That’s not supposed to happen!’ Mum said as feathers went flying. ‘It’s meant to be your new babysitter.’

  ‘Coo
l, Mum. A robotic chicken for a babysitter. Dad always said you were full of crazy ideas, but this is next level . . .’

  ‘Hang on, Joshie,’ she said. ‘Commence DAD mode.’

  The robotic chicken began to shift back into its normal shape. But instead of stopping at his droid form, he continued to change into something totally different again.

  In an instant, my heart stopped beating. He didn’t look like the droid from today anymore. But that’s not what stopped my heart.

  ‘Excellent,’ Mum said, in her matter-of-fact way. ‘Looks like it’s fully operational.’

  My scalp had gone cold. ‘You’ve got to be joking,’ I said quietly. I could hardly look at the droid standing before me. I could feel tears pouring down my face like someone had left the garden hose on behind my eyes. And I didn’t even care that I was crying.

  ‘What’s wrong, Joshie?’ Mum said, looking confused.

  Dad had explained to me how Mum doesn’t always get normal emotional stuff, but I still couldn’t believe she didn’t get why I was so upset.

  ‘He looks exactly like Dad,’ I said, wiping away as many tears as I could with the back of my hand.

  ‘I know,’ Mum said, as if it were the happiest thought she’d ever had. ‘It’ll be like having him with us again!’

  ‘No way. I’ll run away from home if you don’t change him!’ I shouted. There was no way this droid was replacing my dad.

  Mum tried to hug me but I turned away.

  ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Mum said. ‘Should we give him grey hair and a walking stick?’

  I shook my head, sniffling just a little bit. ‘Nah. He just needs to be . . . can we please just make him COOL?’

  ‘What’s cool?’ Mum asked.

  I sometimes forget Mum is a geeky scientist. ‘I don’t know. Just make him a dude, Mum.’

  Mum shrugged. ‘Well, we can give it a go! Go into Droid Dude mode,’ she commanded.

  ‘That’s it,’ I said, wiping my eyes one last time. I liked the idea of a DROID DUDE.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ the droid said.

  Wild hair sprouted on his head. It was the color of a caramel milkshake. His skin went from white to super-tanned, like he had spent all summer surfing.

  From out of his body, thousands of tiny sewing-machine nanobots started sewing clothes on him.

  First, a pair of Hawaiian boardshorts appeared. Then a T-shirt that had ‘Break The Rules If You Want’ written on it. And finally, a pair of bright yellow thongs grew on his huge feet.

  Frenchy was up now, his tail wagging. Droid Dude looked like the coolest surfer ever.

  ‘Hmmmmm,’ Mum said. ‘If he’s going to look after you, I think we should make him look a little bit more like a grown-up. Please add a moustache to DROID DUDE mode,’ she said, to update the droid’s programming.

  Even though I’d seen the droid shape-shift, it made me giggle when I saw him grow a big bushy moustache in less than ten seconds!

  ‘Moustache complete,’ the droid told us.

  ‘What do you think?’ Mum asked me.

  ‘No way,’ I said. ‘It reminds me of Mr Moustache Man.’

  ‘Fine then,’ Mum said, ‘as long as you listen to him when he’s checking on your homework. Otherwise, the moustache is back.’

  We both laughed. ‘Cancel moustache,’ I commanded, and it disappeared just as quickly. I gave Mum a big hug. I didn’t even mind all her pens pressing into my ear.

  I looked over at our pretty cool droid, and remembered I had his memory chip in my pocket. I still felt a bit sad that he wouldn’t remember our first adventure together.

  Just then, a grinding noise came from the droid. ‘What’s that?’ Mum asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Back-up memory,’ the droid said.

  ‘That’s strange,’ said Mum. ‘There shouldn’t be anything to remember yet.’

  I went very still, absolutely CERTAIN that I was BUSTED.

  But the droid just looked back at her. ‘An old file,’ he explained.

  And I swear, when Mum wasn’t looking, he winked at me.

  Hilary Rogers – you are the Electric to my Hectic that made this book and series come to life. Your magic touch is across every page. As one of Australia’s most accomplished talents in creating kids’ book series, there’s no one in the world I could be as fortunate to work with. Thank you forever and beyond!

  Penny White, Marisa Pintado, Annabel Barker, Kate Brown, Ilka Tulloch, Pooja Desai, Luna Soo and the rest of you champions at Hardie Grant Egmont – we’ve ended up becoming quite the team! Thank you all so much (and especially you, Pen) for going after this series. It’s you guys that make it possible for us authors to do our thing. You have my endless admiration and gratitude.

  Antoni Jach – my wonderful friend, thanks times a gazillion for helping me to become a published author! And on behalf of countless writers, thanks for making our lives so rich. I salute you, legend.

  Sally Rippin – your amazing contribution to kids’ books seems boundless. Thanks for the super sessions, and for helping make Joshie be Joshie!

  Wayne Bryant – if it was funny when I wrote it, it became even funnier when you illustrated it.

  Jarett Lefers – bro, you’re a genius, my best friend and greatest inspiration. You’ve helped make every day a better alternative reality than the last.

  Johan Lefers – Dad, what can I say? Your boundless energy and creativity has inspired me all my life. Without the glee of Lord Itchy Bum, there couldn’t have been Hectic Electric.

  Jutka Lefers – Mum, you taught me to go after whatever I wanted in life. Love you so much.

  Jasmin Lefers – you’ll be my naughty Bread Baby sister soon. Thanks for the inspiration and for all your love.

  Sarah Roberts – my soul soars when I think of you and your unflagging belief in me and in my writing. Thank you, beautiful girl.

  Emma and Rachel – thanks for being the inspiration for the Ginger Nut Twins. (And Deb, you created beautiful girls, and I turned them into bullies!)

  Stephen Wools – you’re the best partner in crime I could hope for! It’s been years of creative epicness together! Here’s to many more.

  How to Hypnotise a Droid

  published in 2017 by Hardie Grant Egmont

  Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street

  Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia

  www.hardiegrantegmont.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

  A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.

  Text copyright © 2017 Joshie Lefers

  Illustration and design copyright © 2017 Hardie Grant Egmont

  Illustration by Wayne Bryant

  Cover design by Kristy Lund-White

  eISBN 9781743585023

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