Chegwin Toffle didn’t notice the snowball hurtling through the air. This was odd because the projectile had been aimed directly at his nose, and the person who threw it was yelling with glee.
‘Long-range shot, coming in!’
The powdery sphere – now locked onto its target – rocketed towards the curly-haired boy. Such a threat would be enough to send most children ducking for cover behind the nearest snowbank or tree.
But Chegwin, Snow Fights and Soup Tins remained unmoved and unaware. He was too busy daydreaming.
His thoughts were focused on something more obscure than the early-morning snow fight with his friends. He was wondering what it would be like to be a tin of tomato soup.
Tomato-soup tins were unsung heroes, reasoned Chegwin. They were often plucked from supermarket shelves and then dumped at the bottom of a trolley to prop up more squashable groceries.
But the bravery of tomato-soup tins didn’t end there…