Download Billy Bunter's Christmas Party (Billy Bunter, Book 5) by Frank Richards PDF

By Frank Richards

One other Billy Bunter experience at Greyfriars college

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Extra resources for Billy Bunter's Christmas Party (Billy Bunter, Book 5)

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And he knew it. indd 29 8/7/12 10:19 AM Ty Drago He grinned. I always hated it when they grinned. “My. Turn. ” Behind him, the bar door suddenly opened and a man—­a nice, human-­looking man—­staggered out. He looked blearily at the Corpse. “’Scuse me, Ocifer,” he said in a slurred voice. Then he noticed me in a heap on the sidewalk with my back against a mailbox. He blinked. ” The Deader glared at him, and for one horrible moment, I thought he might go for the guy’s throat. But Corpses are smarter than that, and their Masks are important to them, usually more important than the condition and safety of whatever body they’re wearing.

Instead, we used curtains or heavy blankets draped across the thresholds for privacy. Tom held his open for us, and Helene and I ducked under his big arm and stepped inside. Tom kept the place pretty sparse—­just a desk and a few folding chairs set up around a small conference table. On one wall was a bulletin board that someone had scrounged up. It was layered with printouts and newspaper clippings about the Corpses and their goings-­on around town. On the opposite wall hung another curtain, this one leading to the adjacent room, where Tom did his sleeping and dressing.

He turned and glanced back at the drunken bystander in a way that even from my vantage point looked really guilty. The guy in the bar doorway narrowed his eyes. “’Ang on a second…” he said. “Lezzee some ID… ‘officer’…” “Of course, sir,” the Corpse said. And why wouldn’t he? After all, he had ID. He was a cop! indd 31 8/7/12 10:19 AM Ty Drago But his back was to me, his attention fixed entirely on the suspicious bar dude, and that was all I’d wanted. In one reasonably smooth motion, I found my feet, stepped up, and punched Dead Cop in the back of his neck right at the base of the skull.

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