Barry Loser and the trouble with pets. Jim Smith

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Название Barry Loser and the trouble with pets
Автор произведения Jim Smith
Жанр Природа и животные
Серия
Издательство Природа и животные
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781780318011



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the badgering going?’ she asked. I’d told her all about me badgering my mum for a sausage dog, of keelse.

      20

      ‘Hasn’t worked yet unfortukeely,’ I said, my nose drooping.

      Bunky patted me on the shoulder and grabbed a Cherry Fronkle from a pyramid of cans that’d been stacked up on a table.

      ‘Have a Fronkle instead,’ he said, like he’d bought it for me.

      21

      Just then, Anton Mildew marched past, doing his world famous robot dance. ‘MUST. DESTROY. ALL. BALLOONS,’ he bleeped, and Nancy chuckled.

      I cracked my can of Fronkle open and took a sip. ‘Fancy a boogie, Bazza?’ said a familikeels voice.

      22

      I twizzled round and spotted Sharonella Sharalumbus from my class, standing three millimetres away

      from the end of my nose. Next to her was her friend Fay Snoggles.

      ‘NO WAY!’ I spluttered, Fronkle spraying all over her and Fay’s shoes.

      Sharonella fluttered her eyelashes

      at me. ‘Lemme know if you change your mind,’ she said, dancing off, and I shuddered like a dog who’s just finished a wee.

      23

      After that I jiggled around on the dance floor, doing the Doggy Walk Wiggle with Bunky and Nancy for about nineteen hours. Then all of a non-sudden the song we were dancing to stopped.

      24

      Mrs Dongle tapped the microphone with one of her shiny red nails. ‘And now something for all you lovers out there!’ boomed her voice through the speakers.

      ‘Yuck, did you hear that?’ I said, pretending to puke all over Bunky and Nancy’s trainers. ‘DJ Dongles just called us lovers!’

      25

      Mrs Dongle pressed a button and a Frankie Teacup song started to warble out of the speakers.

      Frankie Teacup is my dad’s favourite singer, in case you didn’t know.

       He’s so old he

       isn’t even alive

       anymore.

      26

      ‘Ooh, Banana Moon - that’s my gran’s favourite!’ squawked Sharonella, and she twizzled round on the spot, looking for someone to have a smoochy jiggle with.

      I stepped backwards a millimetre, remembering how she’d fluttered her eyelashes at me earlier. ‘Let’s get the keelness out of here,’ I cried, grabbing Bunky and Nancy and zooming off the dance floor.

      27

      ‘Hide!’ I whispered, zig-zagging over to

       the huge triangle of Cherry Fronkle

       cans, which by the way was right

       next to the emergency exit.

      ‘Hey!’ shouted Bunky, skidding to

       a stop. ‘I was enjoying that song.’

       He looked back at the dance floor

       where Anton was still doing his

       loserish robot dance.

      ‘What are you, crazy?’ I said, ducking

       behind the cans. ‘You wanna end up

       dancing with a GIRL?’

      28

      ‘Or even worse - a BOY!’ said Nancy, pretending to puke all over my trainers.

      Gordon Smugly, who’s the smuggest, ugliest person in our class, wandered up to us.

      ‘It’s dangerous out there,’ he said, plucking a salt and vinegar crisp out of a ginormous bowl and slotting it into his annoying mouth. ‘I had to get off the dance floor before Sharonella pounced on me.’

      29

      ‘Oh please,’ said Nancy. ‘Even Shazza’s not that desperate.’

      Stuart Shmendrix, who’s sort of like Gordon’s sidekick, trundled over all sweatily. ‘Phew, that was close,’ he said, grabbing a Cherry Fronkle. ‘Did you see the way Fay Snoggles was staring at my bum?’

      30

      ‘Listen to you losers!’ chuckled Bunky. ‘What are you afraid of?’ And he bopped back on to the dance floor.

      ‘Be careful, Bunky!’ I cried, but it was too late, he was gone.

      31

      Stuart cracked his Fronkle open and me, him, Nancy and Gordon watched all loserishly as Bunky waggled his legs around on the dance floor.

      Sharonella and Fay were circling him like cats about to pounce on a very stupid, bum-wiggling mouse.

      32

      I rested my hand on the lever that opens the emergency exit door, getting ready to escape if Shazza spotted me. ‘Poor old Bunkster,’ I said. ‘Silly doggy doesn’t know how much trouble he’s in.’

      Bunky’s sort of like my human pet dog, in case that last bit sounded weird.

      33

      Just then, Darren Darrenofski from our class wobbled out of the boys’ toilets. He was doing his flies up while holding a Fronkle at the same time, which isn’t an easy thing to do.

      ‘Darren!’ whisper-shouted Stuart. ‘Get over here before the girls spot you.’

      But Frankie Teacup was singing too loud for Darren to hear.

      34

      ‘Hey, what’s Shazza doing?’ said Nancy, and I spotted her on the dance floor, swinging an invisible lasso around in the air like she was a cowgirl.

      ‘That’s a funny old dance move isn’t it,’ I said, sounding like a bit of a granny, and I treated myself to a cheese and onion crisp for being so loserish.

      35

      ‘The woman’s gone completely stark raving bonkers,’ said Gordon, not that I was listening to him.

      I was too busy spotting one of Nancy’s trainers.

      36

      ‘What in the name of unkeelness?’

      I gasped, staring at Nancy’s left foot. ‘Your trainer - it’s . . . tapping to

       the music!’

      ‘Careful Nance,’ chuckled Gordon. ‘You’ll be dancing with Mildew next.’

      37

      Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘As if, Smugly,’ she said, and I tried to spot Bunky on the dance floor, but he’d disappeared behind a cloud of purple smoke.

      Over on the other side of the room, Darren finished zipping his flies and looked up. Suddenly he froze - Sharonella was staring straight

      at him.

      38

      ‘You’re mine, Darrenofski!’ she screeched over the top of Banana Moon, lassoing her invisible rope around his neck and starting to pretend-pull him towards her.

      Darren started to edge backwards. He dropped his Fronkle can and

       a pink fizzy puddle spread out underneath his trainers.

      39

      ‘Man down!’ cried Stuart, watching

      as Darren’s trotter slipped in the

      Fronkle.

      He flapped his hands like a pig trying to fly and Sharonella whipped behind him, catching him in her arms.

      A nose poked out of a purple cloud and Anton appeared