Frog Freakout by Ali Sparkes Page B

now.
    â€œOf course not,” said Petty. “As IF! No . . . I really wanted to get away for a while and just relax and share the company of happy young minds . . . that’s all.”

    â€œSo,” Danny eyed her suspiciously, “nothing at all to do with your Serum Which Instigates Total Cellular Hijack?”
    â€œNot at all,” said Petty, grinning again. “I’m on holiday too. I don’t plan to hijack the cells of anyone or instigate anything this week. Although you might like to know that the REPTOSWITCH formula is very nearly complete.”
    â€œHow can you complete it?” asked Josh. “You never found the final crystal cube with the last bit of the secret formula!”
    He and Danny exchanged uneasy glances. They had been helping Petty find the REPTOSWITCH formula all summer. It was hidden in six parts, each part in code in a crystal cube. They’d found them all—but the very last one was not in Petty’s lab. Right at this moment, it was in a thick old sock at the bottom of Danny’s camp gym bag. They’d decided Petty was too dangerous to have it when she nearly killed an old enemy a couple of weeks ago after S.W.I.T.C.H.ing him into a cockroach.
    â€œWell, I’m hoping I can somehow work out the missing bit,” went on Petty. “And in the meantime, as a side experiment, I’ve also concocted AMPHISWITCH!”
    â€œAMPHISWITCH?” Josh couldn’t help the tiniest flutter of excitement. He had always adored amphibians.
    â€œYes! Reptiles and amphibians are quite similar, you see . . . and although the missing part of the REPTOSWITCH formula is flummoxing me when it comes to perfecting reptile S.W.I.T.C.H.ing, the parts I have got were nine-tenths of what I needed for amphibians. I put my brilliant mind to work onsome calculations, which are far too complicated for you to understand . . . and discovered the final bit for AMPHISWITCH last week! Now I can S.W.I.T.C.H. you into a frog or a toad or a newt!” Petty’s eyes gleamed through the condensation on her glasses.
    Danny and Josh gave her a stony look. “But not NOW, obviously,” simpered Petty. “We’re all on holiday. No S.W.I.T.C.H.ing, no experiments . . . just lots of jolly FUN! So—what do you say? Shall we go and get lunch? It’s pot pie and peas . . . my favorite!”
    â€œOK,” said Josh, and Danny nodded. They followed Petty out into the rain, which really did seem to be going up as well as sideways, and made for the canteen cabin.

    Petty smiled happily at them as they stepped outside into a big wet gust of wind, but Josh and Danny didn’t smile back. They didn’t look at her at all. So they didn’t see the four plastic spray bottles hidden in her coat as the gust blew it open.
    Charlie was doing a handstand on a dining table when they walked into the canteen cabin. A dozen or so kids were counting and clapping. It seemed she’d been handstanding for quite some time, because they were up to sixty-six.

    â€œKeep counting,” squeaked Charlie, her face beet red and her many beaded black braids dangling between her elbows. She was wearing the Outdoor Action Camp uniform of blue shorts and a lurid orange T-shirt (the instructors and camp counselors liked to see them easily at a distance), but even upside down Danny could see that she’d “improved” her T-shirt with a Sharpie marker. The big smiley on it now had fangs, dripping blood.
    â€œGood lord,” said Petty. “Does she do this sort of thing often?”
    â€œAll the time,” Danny grinned. “That’s Charlie Wexford.” He thought Charlie was brilliant. In the three days since they’d arrived, Charlie had been the most punished kid onsite. She’d climbed up on the girls’ dormitory cabin roof and yodeled (no dessert), canoed off on her own down the river and got herself happily lost for an hour (no dessert