Zac's Magic Legs and The Great Toilet Roll Heist Book 1

By Jed Hart

DON’T BLINK Life is a roller coaster ride when Zac’s right knee and left foot show him how to run faster than a salt lake race car. Together, with the erratic help of Julian Wimple, world’s youngest billionaire, they must SAVE AUSTRALIA from the great toilet roll heist of 2020. BE PREPARED FOR SURPRISES.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Feather Knight Books
• Release date: Nov 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9780648705475

Book preview

Chapter

1

Zac’s magic legs start talking

When Zac first heard the voices, he was determined not to listen. His world was NORMAL, and he didn’t want to let that go. He had two parents who were OUTSTANDING, and he loved them to bits. They loved him just as much. That was all MOST SATISFACTORY, and he didn’t want to disturb things by saying something weird like, MUM, DAD, I’M HEARING VOICES.

Zac had a little sister, called Saski. At times she was also called STOPPIT, THAT’S MINE and IT’S MY TURN. Zac adored Saski and she worshipped him, and it is therefore a curious fact that in spite of their mutual affection, they spent much of their time together in fierce and fearful competition. Saski did not hear voices. She didn’t particularly favour LISTENING, and preferred TALKING and DOING. So, not hearing voices was no bother to her at all. Besides, she didn’t know there were voices to be heard.

When Zac was almost nine, his legs started behaving oddly. As he sat, his feet shuffled to the left and right, and occasionally, forward and back. As they shuffled, they stayed aligned with each other, and their movements were graceful, almost like a dance. Zac got the feeling that they were restless and wanted to go for a fast run. Even more unusual, was the sound of internal voices. Just muttering at first, like conversation on the other side of a wall, indistinct but nevertheless, there. As he could never tell what was said, and he would have preferred not to be hearing anything at all, he tried to ignore the constant murmuring. That, he found, was difficult, particularly as the voices were growing louder and clearer as his birthday approached. Although Zac could not have explained how, he knew the voices came from his legs.

Far from being alarmed at these STRANGE events, Zac was, more than anything else, curious about what his legs were up to. Amongst all his friends and classmates, his were the only limbs behaving in this manner.

Everything changed when Zac turned nine. His left foot and right knee, he found, had their own voices. Not out loud voices, which would have been REALLY EMBARRASSING. Just quiet voices in his head.

Zac’s right knee did most of the talking.

On his ninth birthday, after his party, Zac’s right knee addressed him clearly for the first time.

‘Happy birthday,’ his right knee said.

Zac, and this is STRANGE, could tell it was his right knee that was talking. ‘Thank you,’ he said, in the same silent, kneeish language. It was also SURPRISING to Zac that he knew this language. He didn’t know he knew it, but he did, and his reply was automatic.

There followed a long silence.

‘I thought you’d have questions,’ said right knee.

‘Of course, he’s got questions, he’s a boy. He’s so full of questions he doesn’t know where to begin.’ This abrupt statement came from his left foot, which had started tapping in an irritated fashion. Tap, tappity, tap.

‘I’ll do the talking for Zac’s legs,’ said right knee.

So it was that Zac’s life went from routine, to EXTRAORDINARILY FASCINATING AND FAST.

Chapter

2

Right knee is named

‘What’s your name?’ Zac asked.

‘Right knee,’ said his right knee.

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Zac, ‘that’s like calling a little sister, little sister. Little sisters need names and so do you if we are going to talk to each other.’

‘Fair enough,’ said his right knee, ‘you can call me Righty.’

‘Won’t do,’ said Zac, ‘too obvious and EXTREMELY BORING. I’m going to use your initials, RK, to make something up.’ He thought for a moment. ‘You shall be Reginald Krapp,’ he said, because that was the first thing that came into his mind, and he found it amusing.

Right Knee was aghast. ‘Reginald is all right,’ he said, ‘but you can’t call me Krapp.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it is your BOTTOM that produces the Krapp, only it’s spelt CRAP. We don’t want to get your bottom upset, or you