Molly Moon Stops the World
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Molly Moon is back -- and this time she's hypnotizing her way to the Academy Awards in Los Angeles. Along with Rocky and Petula the pug,Molly is tracking the sinister activities of American billionaire Primo Cell, who wants to become president and take over the world. He has all the Hollywood celebrities in his power, but Molly Moon has an amazing power of her own,which even she doesn't know about ...
be lovely to have nothing to do, no work, no … mission.” They could see Mrs. Trinklebury in an old-fashioned bathing suit and a broad-brimmed hat, lounging on her sun chair, with a pile of celebrity magazines on her lap. She was throwing bits of cookie to nearby blackbirds. A white-suited pool waiter was placing a tall green drink on the table beside her. Mr. Nockman was on the diving board about to jump. Roger’s feet were dangling from the big-boughed tree near the wall. He was hanging blue
from it like a thousand dewdrops hung from the center of the ceiling. A fourpiece band was playing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” Dusty did a funny wiggly dance as they walked past the musicians. As they emerged onto a terrace the size of a tennis court, a voice shrilled, “Hey, Dusty, you made it!” A tall, beautiful Arab woman in a red gauze dress threw her arms around the old film star’s neck. “Have a great evening—nice meetin’ ya,” Dusty said, winking at Molly and Rocky as he turned to join
the steel bench. If Sinclair had still been sitting there, the bird would have slammed right into him. Molly followed its flight. On its long pole it was guided up to the other side of the gallery ceiling, where it hovered as its weight shifted. Then, as gravity pulled it down again, it began its backward descent, targeting the seat. Its guillotine-sharp tail cut through the air with a whoooomph noise, sending a breeze through Molly’s hair. “I’m glad you’re not superstitious,” Rocky said to
invited, too,” said Primo. “Unless you’d prefer to be somewhere else, but I think the children would miss you if you lived farther away than the gatehouse.” “Well, it’s a lovely idea,” said Mrs. Trinklebury. “Isn’t it, Simon, dear?” “The only problem is that we have a lot of animals and birds,” Nockman said. “Yeah, I’ve got thirty-three mice now,” said Gerry. “Actually, I think Scrunchball might be having her babies right this minute.” “My house is huge. We could start a zoo there,” said
they were all pictures from advertisements. First there was a red Primospeed sports car, then a green Nicesplice lawn mower, next a Compucell computer, then a Heaven Bar ice cream. Images of different objects that weren’t connected passed in front of Molly’s eyes. She recognized a lot of them. A blue-and-silver Inspirations fountain pen, a Shlick Shlack knife, a polka-dotted Fashion House dress, a jar of Navy Girl soup, a box of Honey Wheat Pufftas, a roll of Sumpshus toilet paper, a pot of Fresh