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    My Mum the Pirate
    My Mum the Pirate
    My Mum the Pirate
    Ebook138 pages59 minutes

    My Mum the Pirate

    By Jackie French and Stephen Michael King

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    About this ebook


    Whoever said having a pirate for a mum was fun? Cecil's mum wears long black boots and an even longer sword, and she makes her enemies walk the plank. Putrid Percival serves sea monster soup for dinner when Cecil would rather eat pizza. And Filthy Frederick stinks - but hey, he's good at maths, and nobody's perfect! Cecil gets seasick and all he wants is a normal life. With parent-teacher night looming, Cecil is worried. Will the crazy crew of the good ship Mermaid and his pirate mum ruin his street cred? But when flood waters strike and Bandicoot Flats Central School is in danger, who will save the students and teachers from the perils of the rising waters? the wacky talents of Jackie French and Stephen Michael King will delight younger readers as way-out and wild adventures unfold in the Wacky Family series. Ages 7+
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins Publishers Australia
    Release dateAug 1, 2014
    ISBN9781460703915
    My Mum the Pirate
    Author

    Jackie French

    Jackie French AM is an award-winning writer, wombat negotiator, the 2014–2015 Australian Children's Laureate and the 2015 Senior Australian of the Year. In 2016 Jackie became a Member of the Order of Australia for her contribution to children's literature and her advocacy for youth literacy. She is regarded as one of Australia's most popular children's authors and writes across all genres — from picture books, history, fantasy, ecology and sci-fi to her much loved historical fiction for a variety of age groups. ‘A book can change a child's life. A book can change the world' was the primary philosophy behind Jackie's two-year term as Laureate. jackiefrench.com facebook.com/authorjackiefrench

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      Book preview

      My Mum the Pirate - Jackie French

      CHAPTER 1

      A Pirate Crew

      ‘I’ll slice your gizzard!’ yelled Mum, waving her sword at the fleeing slaver captain. ‘I’ll chop your toes off to feed the fishes!’

      The battle raged across the decks of the pirate ship Mermaid. Swords clashed, seagulls yelled. Down on the lower deck, the pirates had caught half the slaver crew in the net Filthy Frederick used to catch sea monsters. Up on the mast the skull and crossbones fluttered in the breeze.

      Mum leapt down the stairs, grabbed the slaver captain by his greasy pigtail and gave him a kick in the backside with her long black boot, sending him over the rails and into the water.

      ‘Take that, snot whiskers!’ she yelled. She peered into the coil of rope where Cecil was sitting with his books. ‘Have you finished your homework?’

      ‘Not yet,’ said Cecil. ‘It’s hard to concentrate with all the noise going on. It’s this really hard maths problem …’

      ‘I don’t care if it’s advanced alchemy; I want that homework done before bedtime … Take that, you undercooked son of a seasick gorilla!’

      ‘But Mum,’ shouted Cecil, as Mum leapt up back onto the bridge after another slaver, ‘what’s the cube root of twenty-seven?’

      ‘Three!’

      Filthy Frederick’s wooden leg clattered across the deck. ‘Sorry, me hearty,’ he yelled to Cecil. ‘But your mum’s busy at the moment!’

      Another slaver leapt down from the bridge and onto the coil of rope.

      Swack! Filthy Frederick’s wooden leg kicked him overboard.

      ‘Say hello to the sharks, you pile of seagull vomit!’ yelled Filthy Frederick, picking a cockroach out of his beard and absent-mindedly eating it.

      ‘Are there any sharks down there?’ asked Cecil, interested.

      ‘Of course not,’ said Filthy Frederick.

      Cecil quickly took a final breath of clean air as Filthy Frederick sat on the edge of his coil of rope. Filthy Frederick was one of Cecil’s favourite people in the universe, but sometimes Cecil wished he’d take a bath.

      ‘Oof! Time for a breather, me hearty,’ said Filthy Frederick, grinning and showing his three long, yellow teeth. ‘I’m not as young as I used to be. No, your mum would be cross if anyone got hurt in one of her battles. You know what she says: Free the slaves, grab the treasure and don’t get any bloodstains on my clean deck. Any more maths problems?’

      Filthy Frederick had once been thrown in a dungeon with the king’s mathematician who’d been silly enough to argue when the king said two times four was nine. Filthy Frederick had learnt lots of things in that dungeon, like the cube root of lots of numbers (including seven hundred and twenty-nine) and never argue with someone who has a crown and an army.

      ‘A pirate’s life is the way for me,’ sang Filthy Frederick, swinging his wooden leg around and knocking another two slavers into the ocean.

      ‘With lots of enemies on the sea,

      With chests of treasure and jewels too,

      A fine free life for me and you!’

      ‘See you later, me hearty,’ added Filthy Frederick to Cecil. ‘Best get back to the battle!’ He heaved himself up, leaving a small cloud of fleas behind. His wooden leg tapped on the deck after another slaver.

      ‘See you later, Filthy Frederick,’ said Cecil.

      ‘Snap!’ agreed Snap, peering out of the coil of rope.

      Snap was Cecil’s pet crocodile. Mum reckoned no one was going to try to grab Cecil if he had a crocodile on guard.

      ‘Glop.’ Snap swallowed what looked like a couple of fingers and grinned at Cecil.

      Cecil grinned back. Mum said Snap wasn’t allowed to eat fingers or toes or even a nice chunk of slaver’s bum, but Cecil reckoned that sailors on any ship that carried slaves deserved whatever they got.

      Cecil turned back to his homework. Behind him the fight was nearly over. Filthy Frederick and Mum were pushing the last of the slavers off the plank.

      Ambrose One Arm and Harry the Hook were carrying half the treasure chests from the slaver ship to theirs.

      Barnacle Bruce was explaining to the bewildered slaves on the deck of the other ship that the ship was theirs now and so was the other half of the treasure, so they were rich. And, by the way, did anyone know how to sail a ship because if not, he’d give them sailing lessons.

      Down in the sea the slavers were swimming over to the small desert island nearby. Mum made sure there was an island nearby when she made prisoners walk the plank or tossed them overboard, and if one of them couldn’t swim, she threw him a lifebelt.

      ‘Jelly-bellied sons of a sea serpent slavers!’ snorted Mum, striding back over to Cecil and wiping her

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