Cranky Hazel's Cake

Cranky Hazel's Cake by SK Sheridan Page B

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Authors: SK Sheridan
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bouncy, mossy grass.
    â€˜Yippee!’ She cackled. ‘This is fun.’ She breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh smells. ‘Delicious,’ she shouted as she smelt a rose. ‘Yummy,’ she cackled as she sniffed a geranium. Brainbox watched, his eyebrows raised, as Cranky Hazel danced around the daisies, jigged around the jasmine and trotted around the tulips, cackling all the time. Young witches loved perfecting their cackle, and Cranky Hazel practised hers a lot, mostly at bed time or in the shower.
    Mr Perkins the park keeper looked up from the recycling bin he was emptying. He took the park rule book EXTREMELY seriously and had spent a long time learning it off by heart. He’d met Cranky Hazel before, he remembered, possibly around this time last year, and it hadn’t gone well. He cleared his throat, but Cranky Hazel didn’t take any notice.
    â€˜Hey,’ he yelled, reaching for his whistle. ‘Hey you, little witchy in the pointy hat. Can’t you see the sign? It says, “Please Do
Not
Walk On The Grass”.’ He pointed at a small white sign stuck into one corner of the lawn.
    Cranky Hazel stopped stomping and stared at him.
    â€˜What is the point,’ she growled loudly. ‘Of growin’ grass in a park if you can’t even walk on it? It’s like taking a van full of ice creams to the beach then not selling any to hungry children. It’s ridiculous and it doesn’t make sense.’
    â€˜It’s important grass,’ Mr Perkins said, puffing his chest out as far as he could as he marched towards her. He didn’t know WHY it was important grass, but it must be if there was a sign saying not to walk on it. Signs meant a lot to Mr Perkins. ‘It can’t be disturbed. Not even
I
am allowed to walk on it.’
    â€˜Well that’s just really SILLY then isn’t it?’ Cranky Hazel growled loudly, standing her ground.
    Brainbox sighed and waited. This was exactly what had happened last year. He reflected that in future, Cranky Hazel better stick to the playground area at the other end of the park. She and Ellie went there a lot with Ellie’s mum after her friend got back from school. Sometimes Brainbox came along if he had nothing better to do, so he knew that Ellie and Cranky Hazel had great fun going on the slide, swings, roundabout, climbing frame and seesaw together as well as playing hide and seek behind the tall trees and wide bushes. (That is until Cranky Hazel got over tired and started ZAPPING things with her wand, and had to be led home in a mood for dinner and bed). Things did not tend to go so well at THIS end of the park.
    â€˜GET OFF THE GRASS,’ Mr Perkins shouted, his face flushing purple. ‘If you don’t get off now, I’ll blow my whistle.’
    Cranky Hazel rolled her eyes.
    â€˜Ooh no,’ she said. ‘Not the whistle. Anythin’ but the whistle.’ She did a little jig next to the jasmine, kicking the edge of her robes into the air and flashing her stripy green and black stockings.
    â€˜Right, that’s IT,’ Mr Perkins yelled, trembling. He was sure the rule book DEFINITELY said no jigging next to the jasmine. He stuffed the whistle into his mouth and blew hard.
    â€˜PHEEEEEEEEEE!’
    â€˜Ooh, that’s a horrible noise,’ Cranky Hazel growled, putting her hands over her ears. ‘Come on Brainbox, let’s go. I’ve had enough of it here. We’ve got more important things to do, like buy ingredients for Ellie’s welcome home cake.’ She stomped off towards the path, her cat following and watching as she reached deep into her robe pocket and pulled out her wand.
    A little backwards flick of her wrist sent an arc of CRACKLING black and silver whistle shapes shooting into the air towards Mr Perkins.
    â€˜Whoops,’ she cackled, as his park keeper’s hat flew off and got stuck high up in a tree. ‘I think my wand

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