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Once upon a time, there was a little boy called Django. Now, poor Django didn't have a mummy or a daddy and he lived all alone on the streets of London. He would sleep in alleyways and find his food in the dustbins, which he shared with the rats.
Most of the time he was quite happy. The rats were his friends and there was always enough food for a small boy. The only thing he didn't like was the winter, when it was very cold. One winter, it grew so cold that Django thought, "I will surely die unless I find somewhere warm to spend the nights", so he began to search for somewhere to stay.
Eventually he found an old tumbled-down house in a dark little street. The garden was full of weeds. There were no lights on and the windows downstairs were all broken. He climbed in one of the windows and looked around. The ground floor was so cold and damp that it was no better than sleeping outside, so he decided to try upstairs.
The stairs were old and made a creaking noise as Django walked up them. CREAK, CREAK, CREAK. At the top, a dusty corridor led to a door. As Django walked along it, the floorboards went GROAN, GROAN, GROAN. And when he pushed open the door at the end, it went CRRR-E-E- E-E-A-A- A-A-KK.
But inside, there was nothing but some old sacking in a pile on the floor and an old cupboard against the wall. There was a nasty smell, but it was warmer, and Django lay down on the sacking and began to go to sleep.
Just as he started to fall asleep, he heard the stairs start to creak, just as they had when he walked up them, but much louder. CREAK, CREAK, CREAK. Then the boards in the corridor began to GROAN, GROAN, GROAN.
Well, Django decided to hide in the cupboard until he could see what was coming towards the room, and he quickly and quietly climbed inside it, closing the door, but leaving a small gap so that he could see what happened in the room.
Very soon, the door was pushed open with a terrible CRRR-E-E- E-E-A-A- A-A-KK, and Django nearly cried out, because into the room came a horrible monster. The monster was carrying a sack over its back and it closed the door and dropped the sack on the floor. The sack wriggled and Django wondered what was in it. He didn't have to wonder long, as the monster picked up the sack and tipped its contents onto the floor. Two children tumbled out and sat shivering and crying at the monster's feet.
"Right", said the monster. "Time for my dinner". The monster began to play "Eenie-meenie-mynie-moe" with the children, licking his lips and laughing.
Now, as soon as he saw this, Django began to look around in the cupboard for something to fight the monster with, but there was nothing in there except dust, dirt and an old metal coat hanger.
Django thought quickly, and picked up the coat hanger and twisted it to make a set of scary teeth. He popped these in his mouth, spat on his hands and scooped up the dirt and dust and rubbed them into his face and neck and hands until it looked like thick, matted fur. As soon as this was done, he leapt out of the cupboard with an enormous roar.
The monster had just picked one of the children up by a leg and was about to pop it into his mouth. He was very surprised by the sudden arrival.
"I", roared Django. "Am the world's scariest monster. Now what are you doing in my house?"
"Uh", said the monster. "I live here."
"Not anymore, you don't", said Django. "Now, get out…and what are those?" He pointed at the children.
"My supper", said the monster.
"Not anymore", said Django.
The thought of losing his supper as well as his house made the monster more cautious. "If you're the word's scariest monster, how come you're so small?" he asked.
"It's because I'm so scary that I don't need to big", said Django. "You must be a rubbish monster to need to be as big as you are - now get out before I eat you for pudding."
Well, the monster ran from the house so fast that the stairs and corridor didn't have time to creak or groan on his way out.
Django looked down at the two children, who were huddled on the floor. "Oh please don't eat us", they said.
Django laughed. "Eat you?" He spat out the scary teeth and wiped some of the dirt from his face. "I'm not going to eat you. I'm a little boy, not a monster. Now, where do you live?"
The children took Django to their home, and when they told their parents what had happened, and what Django had done, the parents were very grateful. "Would you like to live with us", they asked. "And we can be your mummy and daddy?"
"You will not be my mummy and daddy", said Django. "But I will live here, thank you. Now show me the rooms, so I can pick the best one."
Well, Django took the best room, but in general he was much politer after that, and he was never cold or homeless again.
©Tom Melly 2001