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1997 · not illustrated yet

The Professional

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“We called him that because he ran like he was being paid. He was not being paid. He was being chased.”

A badly aimed water balloon, an open window, and a very, very angry man. Now we're running for our lives, vaulting fences and tearing through back gardens. But this isn't just any man. He moves with a purpose, a grace, a professionalism that says 'I do this for a living'. And he's getting closer.

He's clearing the fences... without even touching them.

From the back cover

It seemed like a good idea at the time. But the man whose prize-winning petunias are now soaked in tap water does not agree. He is chasing us. And he is alarmingly fast.

He leaps over Mrs Higgins's fence like an athlete. He dodges Mr Gable's garden gnome like a dancer. Who is this man? We're not stopping to find out. The grown-ups just hear a bit of a commotion outside.

Where
Three back gardens on the estate
When
Early evening
Who
The Professional, Me, Barry, Dale
Props
A fence, A washing prop, Bad trainers
The oblivious grown-up
He never got close enough to see our faces
Got away with
We never learned his name