Don't Press That Button!

Buttons are tempting things. Especially if they are big and red and say 'DO NOT PRESS EXCEPT IN EMERGENCIES'. I cannot imagine being one of those soldiers who guard nuclear buttons. I would just HAVE to press it.


Back to the trip. We have sorted out which alien we are and now Mrs Trundle is standing next to a very tall man who is nodding alot.
'I bet he's the astronaut!' I say, nudging Dexter. 'I wanted Buzz Aldrin of course but...'
'There are so many buttons to press!' says Dexter interrupting. He is making a little blue alien creature shoot back into his spaceship over and over again.
I am about to say I don't care when Mrs Trundle blows her whistle and the tall man sort of bounces and then tries to look as though he is not shocked at all. We all stand to attention.
'Class! This is Mr Chuckle...' (lots of sniggering) She glares and and death rays beam from her eyes. The sniggering stops. 'Thankyou. As I was saying, Mr Chuckle, one of the senior curators, will show us to the spaceflight exhibition and will be judging the rocket competiton.'
Not an astronaut then. We follow Mr Chuckle. He drones on about how much fun science is and how we are all scientists and he does not seem to notice the buzz as everyone talks about the type of rocket they are going to build and who they are going to build it with.
'We're not having her,' says Dexter, pointing at Miranda. She is bossing some bug club mates, clutching her plastic lunchbox and trying not to be with us. 'We should get Tom, he's got four packets of crisps for his lunch - he'll give us some.'
It is tempting. My lunchbox has a carrot, a wholemeal cheese sandwich and two apples. I could do with some crisps. But I wonder about Miranda with her own cool club and mostly bs in the quiz; maybe she's not such an alien after all, she could even be good at building rockets.
'She might be OK,' I say, 'a bit, anyway.'
'Bet she doesn't have crisps in that tiny lunchbox,' says Dexter.
Mr Chuckle moves to one side and there it is - Apollo 10. I stop, my mouth drops open, I put my hand out to steady myself. Someone crashes into me.
'You're in the way!' says Miranda, shoving me into the wall and the big square fire alarm panel.
I put up my arms to stop myself.
'Don't press that button!' I hear Mr Chuckle shout. 'Not that button!'
Too late. I feel the glass crack beneath my elbow. The alarm is deafening. Mrs Trundle's mouth is very wide and angry. Mr Chuckle is running and waving his arms. I decide then that I don't care if Miranda has a space module stuffed with crisps. It would not be enough.