Free The Great Brain Robbery by Anna Kemp

an oil slick and the toe was so sharply pointed it made Frankie pull back in alarm.
    ‘Who are these people?’ Frankie whispered.
    ‘Investors,’ said Neet, proud that she knew such a grown-up word. ‘They’re the people paying for all this. If Marvella sells a lot of toys, then they will make a lot of
money.’
    ‘How do you know all that?’ asked Frankie, impressed.
    ‘Some of us actually listen in class, you know.’ Neet smiled, giving him a pinch on the arm.
    Suddenly the lights dimmed and the Marvella theme tune jingled over the speakers. Everybody hushed. Frankie peered through the gap in the cloth. Standing in the middle of the stage like a tiny
Christmas fairy was the big boss of the global toy trade, the queen of games and gadgets, the high priestess of presents – Marvella Brand.
    Marvella may have been no bigger than a garden gnome, but her porcelain stillness commanded absolute attention. She smiled pinkly at the audience as if she were contemplating an enormous box of
chocolates and began.
    ‘Welcome,’ she tinkled, clasping her small white hands in front of her satin party dress. ‘Welcome to my marvellous toyshop, my fabulous kingdom where children’s dreams
come true!’ The audience was as entranced as toddlers at a magic show. ‘We have some special treats in store for you today,’ Marvella continued, her smile spreading like
strawberry jam, ‘so let’s begin!’
    Marvella clapped her hands and the room was instantly filled with the sound of sleigh-bells. Frankie and Neet peered out carefully from behind the tablecloth so that they could get a better
view. The screen was flickering to life and showing a series of happy Christmas scenes: fir trees twinkled, rosy-cheeked children unwrapped presents, and happy parents beamed with joy. Then a
thick, treacly voice like the ones you hear in adverts began to speak over the music.
    ‘We all know that Christmas is a special time of year,’
it oozed.
‘It is a special time for children and for their mummies and daddies. But most of all it is a
special time for toyshops.’
    Frankie frowned. That didn’t sound right. The images changed to show a large wobbly graph with lots of dollar signs that Frankie could make no sense of whatsoever.
    The voice continued,
‘Christmas is not only a time for caring and sharing, it is also a time for spending. This Christmas, the Marvella Corporation is set to take the largest slice of
the Christmas pudding. With your support, our team of experts has been working hard on “Project Wishlist” – a revolutionary way to make sure that Marvella’s toys are the
only thing on children’s minds, this year, next year and every year to come. Yes indeed, the future is Marvella’s and the cash registers will be ringing, ringing, ringing out for
Christmas!’
    A smiling Teddy Manywishes flashed up on to the screen. Frankie felt ill.
    ‘
Marvella Brand’s Happyland,’
said the treacly voice.
‘We know what children want.’
    The audience stroked their chins in thought. They were impressed.
    Marvella trotted back to the centre of the stage, as if she were about to perform a tap-dance.
    ‘At Marvella’s,’ she said, placing her hands on her heart, ‘we are devoted to children’s happiness. We never stop asking ourselves: What are the little darlings
thinking? What they are dreaming about? What lights up their little eyes and makes their hearts go
boom
?’ Marvella’s smile broke into a shower of tinkling laughter. ‘In
fact,’ she continued, ‘we are so committed to making children’s dreams come true that we have tracked down one of the top brains in the world to make it all happen.’
    Frankie felt a shiver run down his spine as if somebody had dropped a dead fish down the back of his shirt. He knew what was coming next.
    ‘Will you please welcome the brains behind
Project Wishlist
, the gentleman whose tireless work and dedication to children has made all this possible. Move over Santa