Standing in the door was a huge man.
A huge man no one had ever seen before.
He was hugely tall.
He was hugely wide.
He was hugely thick.
He was like a mountain. A mountain that could walk. And open classroom doors.
His big, bald head shone as white as snow.
His eyes were deep and dark like craters.
He stood in the doorway looking all around the class.
We sat at our desks looking all around him.
(He was so big it took quite a long time to look all around him.)
Our teacher Mr Hamm-Rolle was hiding behind his desk.
Mr Hamm-Rolle is scared of loud noises.
Whenever he hears a loud noise he hides behind his desk.
Loud noises like our classroom door flying open or the school bell or Evan de la Souza’s incredibly realistic impression of a charging ostrich.
Mr Hamm-Rolle spends a lot of time hiding behind his desk.
The walking-mountain-man kept standing there. Looking all around the class.
Even though he was really, very, super hugely huge he looked a bit lost and helpless.
I decided I should help him.
‘Excuse me,’ I said to the walking-mountain-man. ‘Can I help you?’
he shouted. Exactly as loudly and as scarily as you’d imagine a walking-mountain-man would shout.
He was staring straight at me. He was probably thinking about which of my arms he was going to rip off to use to pound my brains into hummus.
I panicked.
‘I DON’T LIKE HUMMUS!’ I said.
Just then I saw Vivien run over and set off the fire alarm.
‘FIRE!’
she shouted.
Everyone panicked.