This book is called The Flying Dot.
If you're like most of our readers, you know that Terry can draw pretty much anything, but you're probably wondering what he likes to draw most. Well, that's easy. Dots. I like dots.
Terry can do a lot with dots. He can turn them into holes, eyeballs, dot air balloons, pumpkins, drots, and escape hatches. Does a lot with dots, Terry does.
Terry likes dots, and that's no lie. One day, he drew one that could fly. So I jumped on and Jill did too. Terry said, "Go." And away we flew. We flew up high. I can't breathe. We flew down low. We flew fast. Vroom. And we flew slow. Honk Honk.
We saw a beautiful beach below. The sea was blue. The grass was green. It was the nicest beach we'd ever seen. We landed our dot, beneath a tree. Where we saw a picnic set for three. We sat right down and started to eat, but a big loud splat made us jump to our feet. "Oh no", I said, "it's a splat in a hat." The picnic for three was just a trap.
"Ha, ha," cried the Splat. "You're right about that. Now prepare yourselves for the splat attack. Take that, and that, and that, and that."
We were covered in splats from top to toe. "Come on," I said, "let's go, go, go. Before splat can splat us some more." We ran to a house and banged on the door. The door opened wide and two children cried "Quick. Come in here. You can hide inside." "Thanks," we said, as we ran on through, but the splat was too fast and it got in too. Quick splat that splat.
It splattered the wall. It splattered the floor. It splattered the window. And it splattered the door.
It splattered the dog. It splattered the cat. It splattered the fish. It splattered the mat. "Oh no," cried the children, "boo hoo, boo hoo. Our house is all splattered, and now we are too."
"Don't worry," said Terry, "I know what to do. I'd like you to meet Dot One and Dot Two. There’s the Dot one and there’s the dot two.
This is Dot two and that’s Dot one, and gobbling up splats is how they have fun. These D splatting dots eat splats for lunch and breakfast and dinner and snacks and brunch."
Terry released Dot One and Dot Two. They went straight to work and knew just what to do. They bit and they munched. They chomped and they crunched. They gobbled and they gogged and splurged chomp chomp.
And every so often they stopped all their chewing and very loudly, they burped. Burrp. Naughty dots burping.
They de-splattered the dog, they de-splattered the cat. They de-splattered the fish. They de-splattered the mat. They de-splattered the wall. They de-splattered the floor. They de-splattered the window. They de-splattered the door.
They de-splattered everything. They de-splattered the girl. They de-splattered the boy. The kids were so happy, they jumped for joy.
They de-splattered Terry and Jill and me. And in no time at all, we were all splat free.
The splat in the hat began to cry. A big fat tear rolled out of each eye. Oh no. The splat is really sad.
"My splats, my splats," cried the splat in the hat.
"Oh why, oh why, oh why did you have to do that?"
It cried and cried and cried and cried and cried. It cried all night, and it cried all day, until it completely washed itself away.
And that was the end of the big, bad splat. And all that was left was the dotty old hat.
Well that was a really really nice book to read. I love reading books. Especially little flying dots. I like to read to my, my kids. I like to read to my son Louis, Billy, Alice and Maggie. I like to read books about kindness, I like to read books about culture, but it’s always good to read books and enjoy reading them and having fun while you’re doing it. So that was a really nice book, The Flying Dot.
[the Treehouse door bangs shut]
[Tree rustling noise and wind whooshing]