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Penguin Books Ltd - Khyrunnisa A

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76 pages

English

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Butterfingers is back, and ready to strike! Amar Kishen or Butterfingers, as he is popularly called, has a penchant for dropping things he can send books, bags, balls, even people flying just by touching them! Obsessed with football, Amar comes up with a brilliant plan a school football tournament where each class will play as a different country . But like all Butterfingers plans, this too is doomed to run into obstacles. But with Butterfingers as the goalie, does his team really have a chance? Full of action and adventure, Goal, Butterfingers!, the second book in the Butterfingers series, will make you lose yourself in the hilarious exploits of Amar and his friends as they hurtle through various hare-brained schemes.

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Children's

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Publié par	Penguin Books Ltd
Date de parution	08 juin 2016
Nombre de lectures	2
EAN13	9788184756647
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0420€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Khyrunnisa A.

GOAL, BUTTERFINGERS!
PUFFIN BOOKS
Contents
About the Author
Praise for Goal Butterfingers!
Dedication
1. Amar Has a Great Idea
2. The Mysterious Mr Dasgupta
3. Plans for the World Cup
4. Football All the Way
5. Girls in School
6. All about Sourpuss
7. An Eventful Weekend
8. The Rally
9. Disappointment
10. The Grand Finale
Acknowledgements
Follow Penguin
Copyright
PUFFIN BOOKS
GOAL, BUTTERFINGERS!
Khyrunnisa A., prize-winning author of children s fiction, loves reading, writing and children. She created the popular comic character Butterfingers for the children s magazine, Tinkle . Her three novels published by Puffin in the Butterfingers series are Howzzat Butterfingers! (2010), Goal, Butterfingers! (2012) and Clean Bowled, Butterfingers! (2015).
Some of her stories, for children and for adults, have been published in various anthologies by Puffin, Children s Book Trust and Unisun Publications. Her stories appear regularly in Dimdima and she has an ongoing fortnightly column, Inside View , in The Hindu Metroplus .
She has worked as Associate Professor of English at All Saints College, Trivandrum, and is now a full-time writer. Visit her at www.khyrunnisa.com and connect with her at khyrubutter@yahoo.com .
Praise for Goal, Butterfingers!
Goal is an equally enthralling offering -The Hindu
Tastier than candy bars - Deccan Chronicle
Packed with lots of fun and pranks that define childhood - Sakal Times
Goal, Butterfingers! is a delightful book as it follows the football-crazy teens and their amusing antics in their attempt to turn detective - Dimdima
What with protest rallies to plan, less than friendly teachers and more girls in school to deal with, there s no time to take a breather - New Indian Express
Be a part of the scrapes, the puns and the madness that is Goal Butterfingers! - Tinkle
For my mother who, when I gave her a copy of Howzzat Butterfingers!, flicked through its pages and asked, How did you write all these words? So here, Amma, are more words, and all dedicated to you.
1 Amar Has a Great Idea
Spain won the World Cup! Spain! Yippee! They actually did it! My favourite team!
A beaming Amar greeted Kiran with these words as they met at the bus stop. He added an impromptu war dance to drive home his elation, which sent his bag hurtling down his shoulder to land with a bang on his friend s foot. Oops! Sorry! Spain won-
Enough, Butter! Heard you the first time, said Kiran morosely, cutting into the panegyric and hopping on one foot. You don t have to rub it in. Kiran came from a family of Brazil fans and was heartbroken when the team had made an unexpected exit in the quarter-finals. Subsequently he had shifted his allegiance, after much soul-searching and with some clairvoyance, to Holland. He had been rather vociferously backing Holland, ignoring the allegations of turncoat and fair-weather supporter hurled at him by his family. Holland s defeat to Spain had therefore been a bitter pill to swallow.
Amar Kishen and Kiran Reddy, class VIII students of Green Park Higher Secondary School, were great friends. But their friendship didn t extend to backing the same team in sports. In football, Amar was a Manchester United fan who didn t mind supporting Barcelona or AC Milan whenever it suited him, while Kiran always rooted for Liverpool. And when the World Cup began, Amar s roller-coaster path of shifting loyalties had finally led him to Spain.
I think you ve broken my toe with your heavy bag! Kiran grumbled. What s in it? Iron balls? Gold bars?
No, but something worth its weight in gold! The Bikram Dev book you wanted.
Bikram Dev s novels were the current rage among students, and Amar and his friends were diehard fans. Kiran forgot the pain in his toe as he exclaimed, Oh, great! You remembered! Here, put it into my bag while I inspect my foot. He handed his bag to Amar who promptly dropped it.
Oops! Sorry! The words that punctuated so many of Amar s sentences came tumbling out.
Oh, Amar! That s the end of the test tube in it! Shyam sir ll have to wait till tomorrow for the replacement. Trust you, Butterfingers! You ll have to do the explaining. He glared at his friend who was not nicknamed Butterfingers for nothing. Amar s reputation for dropping things had been established when he was just a baby, and his subsequent exploits only enhanced it. In despair, his father had given him the nickname that suited him so perfectly, everybody called him that.
You should ve caught the bag immediately, retorted Amar, shoving the book into Kiran s bag. You always say you re designed to catch what I drop.
Amar was tall and thin while Kiran was short and stocky, and fittingly nicknamed Tub. Together they were referred to as But-Tub and they quite enjoyed the appellation.
Not my own bag, and not when I m already bending over my shoe, you dope, snapped Kiran. Careful! My test tube! Snatching his bag from Amar, he took out a plastic cover from it, and looked ruefully at the glass apparatus that had now divided itself into four unequal parts. Stuffing it back in, he examined his foot minutely and was half-disappointed there was nothing wrong with it. Still, he believed the situation demanded a limp and was just beginning to perfect it when the bus was sighted.
Quick, Tub! The bus! The pronounced limp hastily abandoned, Kiran raced with Amar to the bus. Using their heavy bags to good effect, the boys, respecting neither age nor size, expertly forced their way into the already crowded bus. Balancing themselves like ballet dancers, they nevertheless managed to have an avid discussion on the World Cup final. A couple of college boys joined in and thus fruitfully engaged, they reached the school bus stop. The stop was a good kilometre from their school, and joined by friends as they walked, the boys reached the school gates in a huge body.
Hey, guys, I just got a great idea! said Amar.
Here we go again! panted Minu, who had sprinted hard to reach the group. She had the distinction of being the only girl in the school, but like the boys, was wary of Amar s ideas that inevitably landed them in all sorts of trouble.
Yeah, Butter, keep it for later. Don t want to get into trouble with Princi so early in the day, Eric laughed.
Early? exclaimed Kiran. There goes the bell! Let s race to the Assembly grounds! Running like poor imitations of Usain Bolt, they managed to reach the grounds on time.
After Assembly, a boring affair as it often was, they ambled to class where a surprise awaited them. Mr Shyam, their class teacher and chemistry master who was taking the first period, didn t turn up, as he usually did, right on the heels of the last boy. Very soon the boys began to believe he was on leave and they were actually getting the first period off on a Monday morning! The superstitious considered this a lucky omen, convinced the trend would last the whole week, and the students relaxed. But it was too good to last. A tornado that on closer inspection turned out to be Shyam sir spun in, startling the class into silence. Good morning, boys! he began brusquely. He looked annoyed. Sorry I m late. Did you notice there are some boys missing? He didn t believe in beating about the bush.
Who? All the students immediately tested the elasticity of their neck muscles by turning their necks in every direction possible to find the absentees. The Madhav twins! said Kishore, the first to solve the mystery. Where are they?
Right now, probably in Switzerland, said Mr Shyam. Their father s taken up an assignment there. They left on Saturday.
But why didn t they tell us? asked Amar, looking peeved.
When did they ever tell us anything? asked Ajay.
Ram Madhav and Shyam Madhav, the Mad Twins, as they were called, lived in a world of their own and never admitted anyone else into their jealously guarded private space. Their classmates had made any number of overtures, and finally accepting defeat, had left the duo well alone. The class immediately launched into opinions and observations about the twins, until Mr Shyam enforced silence by banging the chemistry textbook hard on the table. Amar often told his friends it was the only good use the book was put to. Since your class was smaller than VIII B to begin with, Mr Jagmohan decided that three boys from VIII B could come to VIII A. And the three boys are, here he paused, O. Arjun, Thomas Mathew and Jayaram Rajaram.
The whole class applauded spontaneously. These three boys practically belonged to VIII A. Most of their friends were in that class, and at lunch break and at the slightest opportunity they invariably found their way to the VIII A classroom. As Kishore, the language buff, often put it, their transfer to VIII A was a formality devoutly to be wished .
The three boys who had been waiting outside entered to a vociferous reception. Let s give them a red-carpet welcome! shouted Amar irrepressibly. Spain s colour, red! Spain, sir, won the World Cup yesterday. He turned to inform Mr Shyam on the off chance that he had not heard the news of the century and fishing out his red handkerchief, placed it on the floor. Arjun immediately did a little jig and jumped lithely on it only to slip, slide and come to an abrupt and noisy halt when the table barred his way.
Ha, ha! laughed the students as Mr Shyam tried to hide his irritation. He hadn t been too pleased with Mr Jagmohan s suggestion that three more boys should be accommodated in his class. Any class with Amar in it, he believed, should be short by at least five students. That would be just about the right handicap. Besides, he hadn t been sure what kind of stuff he would get. But he had to give in, for once the Principal had set his heart on something, no one could get him to change his mind. Mr Shyam consoled himself by hoping it would be boys he was familiar with. Known devils would be better than unknown ones, he was reassuring himself, when he he