But it was too late! Malcolm saw Dolly 1, Dolly 2 and Dolly 3 caught by the men!

It looked very rough: three of the men grabbed the sheep by their back legs, and swung them upside down. And before he knew it, the fourth man – a very large man indeed – had got Malcolm’s legs, and swung him upside down! And yes, it was very rough!

The man carried him over his shoulder to the other side of the pen. Malcolm could see the points of his various knives, glinting in the no-longer-nice-at-all sunlight.

“Help!” shouted Malcolm. “Help! Help!”

“Yes!” shouted Dolly 1. “Help!”

“Help!” shouted Dolly 2.

“Help help help!” shouted Dolly 3.

“Hi!” said Gavin, suddenly coming into the pen.

“Hi!” said Maven, also suddenly coming into the pen.

“Oh, thank heavens!” said Malcolm. “Gavin!

Maven! They’ll stop all this!”

“’Allo there, sir and madam,” said the man who was carrying Malcolm. “Sorry the sheep be making so much noise today!”

“No worries,” said Gavin. “No need to call us sir and madam, though, Eli!”

“Right you are, sir and madam.”

“Everything sorted?” said Maven.

“Blades at the ready?” said Gavin.

“Yes, sir and madam!” said the man called Eli.

“Oh no!” shouted Malcolm. “Gavin! Maven! Please!”

“Mr Barrington?” said Gavin.

“We’re here!” Malcolm heard Mr Barrington’s voice.

What?

“Everybody! Children! This way!”

Malcolm felt himself swung back over the man’s shoulder and on to the ground. The man was holding him down. It hurt. He could see the same thing was happening to the Dollys.

Meanwhile, along the top edge of the fence, he could suddenly also see the faces of: Fred, Ellie, Barry, Lukas, Jake, Taj, Isla, Morris and all the rest of his year.

Mr Barrington raised a hand for silence. “OK, all of you. Gavin and Maven have very kindly organised today’s event. So watch closely …”

“Mr Barrington?”

“Yes, Ellie?”

“Should we watch closely where the sheep are? Or the way you’re facing?”

“Oh. Sorry. I see now that those are just some fluffy clouds. No, look over here!”

They all turned to look into the pen.

Of course, thought Malcolm. We’re here, on a farm. And what happens on a farm? What happens to the animals? I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it’s going to end this way! With all my year watching!

He looked up and screamed:

“Barry! Fred! Ellie! Lukas! Mr Barrington, sir! I’m not a sheep! I don’t want to be chops! Or stew! Save me! Save me!”

“Haha! Baa! Baa!” said Morris. “That sheep is going baa at us!”

“Yes,” said Isla with a sigh. “That’s what they do.”

Oh no, thought Malcolm. It was no good. He was just doing a lot of mad baa-ing. It was pointless. Malcolm felt very, very sad; he closed his eyes.

Then, with his free hand – the one that wasn’t holding Malcolm down – the man called Eli reached into his leather bag.