First published in Great Britain 2017 by Egmont UK Ltd, The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

      Text and illustration copyright © Jim Smith 2017 The moral rights of the author-illustrator have been asserted.

      ISBN 978 1 4052 8398 4 eISBN 978 1 7803 1835 6

      www.futureratboy.com www.egmont.co.uk

      A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

      Printed and bound in Great Britain by the CPI Group

      63323/1

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      Hello, my name is Colin Lamppost. At least it used to be. Then one day me and my cuddly toy bird were inside a wheelie bin when it got hit by lightning.

      We were zapped from our home town of Shnozville millions of years into the future and I was transformed into a half boy, half rat, half TV.

      Future Ratboy was born.

      Now I’ve got aerials sticking out of my head, a telly on my belly, a cape made out of a bin bag and a plug-tail hanging off my bum.

      Oh yeah, and my cuddly toy bird got turned into a real-life bird.

      He shouts ‘NOT!’ after everything I say.

      That’s why I call him Not Bird.

      Now we live with

      Bunny

      ,

      the owner of Bunny Deli, the keelest burger shop in Future-Shnozville.

      (‘Keel’ is how we say ‘cool’ in the future, by the way.)

      Bunny Deli is also a sort of orphanage for children whose mums and dads aren’t around.

      Like Jamjar whose mum and dad shrunk themselves to the size of full stops during a science experiment once.

      Jamjar’s got five arms and is really brainy.

      ,

      Then there’s Twoface, who thinks he’s a superhero like me.

      His parents are too busy being real-life superheroes to look after him.

      And Splorg the blue-skinned alien.

      Splorg’s parents were eaten by a black hole when they went out to dinner one night.

      This is Mr X.

      He’s the evil baddy who wants to take over Shnozville.

      I’ve promised my friends I won’t zap myself back home to the olden days until he’s defeated.

      And this is Wheelie, the bin I got zapped here inside.

      Mr X fitted him with a speech module and gave him some arms and dressed him in a waiter’s suit.

      But that’s another story.

      At the end of the last episode, Mr X kidnapped our friend,

      and we haven’t seen either of them since.

      Something tells me that’s all about to change though . . .

      The Wise Old Vending Machine

      ,

      I’ve been here in the future for a while now, but I’m still not completely used to it. Like the other day for example. It was the forty-ninth of Socktober and me and the gang were strolling into town for a very important occasion.

      ‘Ahh, don’t you just love Socktober!’ smiled Splorg. ‘All the leaves on the trees turning into socks – nature truly is a wonderful thing!’

      I looked up at the tree we were walking past and gasped. Hundreds of multi- coloured socks were dangling from the ends of its branches like, erm . . . socks.

      ‘Sometimes I wonder if this whole being-in-the-future thing is all a weird dream!’ I said. ‘I mean – socks growing on trees? That’s just ridikeelous!’

      ‘NOT!’ squawked Not Bird, flying over my head and perching on a branch. The whole thing swayed and a sock fell off, landing on Twoface’s left face.

      ‘What’s so ridikeelous about it, Future RatLOSER?’ said Twoface out of one of his mouths. He peeled the sock off his head and threw it on the pavement outside Dr Smell’s perfume shop.

      ‘Yeah Future RatBUM, it’s just a plain old sock tree!’ he said out of his other mouth.

      Twoface has been calling me names like that ever since I won the Shnozville Superhero of the Month award for helping an old granny cross a road.

      I know that doesn’t sound like much, but the road was seventeen miles wide. And the granny was a ninety-four- year-old elephant. And I had to carry her. With one hand.

      I think Twoface is just jealous because he reckons he’s a better superhero than me.

      The door to Dr Smell’s perfume shop opened and Dr Smell stepped out. He

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