Thor Is Locked in My Garage! Read Online Free PDF

have something that belongs to him. Mr Mallet, these are my two sons, Greg and Lewis.”
    Mallet waved an acknowledgment without looking round. He had long blond hair and was dressed in jeans and a leather vest. He was barely more than five feet tall but he was nearly that broad with muscles that bulged as he heaved the big lawnmower out of the garage. He set it aside as if it weighed nothing.
    “He must have a screw loose, walking around in a blizzard dressed like that,” Greg muttered aside to Lewis.
    “Aren’t you getting kind of chilly in that outfit, Mr Mallet?” Lewis asked their visitor.
    “I don’t much feel the cold,” Mallet answered in a thick foreign accent. He turned just enough for them to glimpse a round, ruddy face with a short cropped beard before he returned to his search.
    “What kind of an accent is that?” asked Greg. “Russian?”
    “Scandinavian, I think,” said Lewis.
    Greg leaned close to Dad and said, “Where did he come from? He looks like he’s lost his motor bike.”
    “He just turned up at the front door,” said Dad. “Said he’d lost something around here and could he have a look in the garage.”
    “That’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” said Lewis.
    Dad shrugged. “He seems harmless enough, and I didn’t like to turn somebody away in this weather. Any luck yet, Mr Mallet?” he asked raising his voice.
    At that point a gust of wind caused the garage door to swing down and clang shut with the visitor inside. Greg caught hold of the handle and tried to swing the door open, but it wouldn’t budge.
    “It’s jammed again,” he said.
    “Are you all right in there, Mr Mallet?” Dad called out.
    The answer was a heavy blow from inside that made the heavy metal door shiver.
    “Boys, I think we’d better stand back,” Dad advised.
    The three of them beat a hasty retreat just in time. The next instant a powerful blow sent the door flying up with a clang. Sven Mallet stepped out, his round face alight. “Ja! Ja! Here it is!” he exclaimed excitedly.
    In his hand he held a large metal hammer. Lewis saw it was inlaid with Norse runes. Mallet heaved the hammer into the air and declared, “At last Mjolnir is mine again!”
    “I’ve never seen that before,” said Dad, bemused.
    Mallet tossed the hammer back and forth from hand to hand, beaming joyfully.
    Lewis swallowed hard. “I think I know who this guy is,” he said.
    “Let me take a guess,” said Greg. “Rumpelstiltskin?”
    “He’s Thor,” said Lewis, “the god of thunder.”
    “Oh great,” said Greg. “As if the weather wasn’t bad enough!”

4. Your own Personal Avalanche
    “What’s that, son?” Dad queried. “Thor, you say?”
    “What I mean, Dad, is that he looks like a picture of Thor in one of my mythology books,” Lewis explained hastily.
    “I expect half the engineers in Norway look like that,” said Dad. “You did say you were from Norway, didn’t you, Mr Mallet?”
    “Something like that,” said the newcomer. “And call me Sven.”
    “Dad, why don’t we take
Sven
inside for a cup of tea,” Greg suggested.
    “Good idea,” Dad agreed. “You take care of that while I have a few more puffs on the old pipe.”
    There was no smoking allowed in the house, so Dad was always glad of an excuse to step outside with his pipe, even on a day like this.
    “Come on, Sven,” said Lewis, leading the blond-haired man inside. “I’ll make some tea.”
    “Have you any foodstuffs?” Mallet asked. “A whole roast boar I could eat.”
    “We can probably manage some sandwiches,” said Greg.
    They could hear Mum and Susie laughing over their hot chocolate in the front room. They were watching one of the
Ice
Age
films. Greg directed their visitor upstairs. “Head up to the first room on the left. That’s mine. We’ll be up shortly.”
    The stranger marched up the steps, swinging his hammer athis side. Greg and Lewis took off their coats and hats and went into the kitchen.
    “Are you sure he’s