Barry Loser Hates Half Term. Jim Smith

whimpered, still bent in half like an L.

      ‘You look like you’re doing fine to me,’

       I said, thinking how there was no way

       I was EVER going to have a baby,

       seeing as it’s bad enough wiping my

       OWN bum, let alone someone else’s too.

      31

      ‘That’s not what I meant,’ said my dad,

      passing me a plastic bag full of poo.

      ‘What DID you mean, then?’ I said,

      except it came out as ‘Dot DID do deen,

      den?’ because I’d stuffed two of my

      spare fingers up my nostrils.

      ‘I can’t look after you and Desmond on

      my own, Barry,’ said my dad. ‘I think

      you might have to go to Pirate Camp

      for the rest of half term . . .’

      32

      ‘But I don’t WANT to go to Pirate

      Camp!’ I shouted for the millikeelth

      time, thirteen and three quarter hours

      later. It was Monday morning and

      I was sitting in the back seat of my

      dad’s car on the way to Mogden Pier,

      which is where the ferry for Mogden

      Island leaves from.

      33

      ‘Why not?’ said my dad. ‘I thought you

       LOVED Pirate Camp.’

      ‘I USED to love Pirate Camp, but not

       any more . . . it’s for BABIES!’ I cried,

       and Desmond, who was sitting next to

       me in his baby seat, started giggling.

      ‘You should fit in there just perfectly,

       then!’ said my dad, and I screwed my

       face up and stared at him in the

       rear-view mirror.

      34

      ‘What in the unkeelness does THAT

      mean?’ I whined.

      ‘You’re a big brother now, Barry,’ said

      my dad. ‘You can’t go screaming round

      the house acting like a kiddywinkle any

      more . . .’

      ‘I am NOT a KIDDYWINKLE!’ I shouted,

      stomping my feet on the car’s carpet

      and crossing my arms.

      35

      ‘Yes, well, until you can prove you’ve

      grown up a bit, I’m afraid you’ll need

      to stay on Mogden Island with all the

      other little babies,’ said my dad.

      ‘I bet MUM wouldn’t send me to

      Pirate Camp!’ I shouted.

      ‘As a matter of fact, I spoke to your

      mum on the phone this morning and

      she thinks it’s a great idea,’ said my

      dad. ‘Who knows - maybe you’ll

      surprise yourself and enjoy it!’

      36

      ‘Maybe you’ll surprise YOURself!’ I

       shouted, which didn’t really make

       sense, but I wasn’t in the mood to

       care. ‘Thanks for ruining my half

       term!’ I grumbled, and I stared out

       of the window at the ginormous

       billboard we were driving past.

      37

      ‘ANOTHER FANTASTIC DONALD COX

       DEVELOPMENT!’ boomed the words on

      the billboard, next to a mahoosive

       photo of a man in a suit with

       sunglasses on. That makes it sound like

       the suit was wearing sunglasses - it

       wasn’t, the man was.

      38

      The man with the sunglasses on was

      Donald Cox, who’s been building buildings

      all over Mogden recently. In the photo

      he was standing in front of some

      skyscrapers, with his hands spread

      out like he was the king of Mogden.

      39

      Behind the billboard, half a real-life

       skyscraper was sticking out of the

       ground. Men in yellow plastic hats were

       dotted around all over it, hammering

       planks and eating sandwiches.

      ‘Blooming Donald Cox,’ grumbled my

       dad, pressing the back-massage button

       on the side of his seat, and the whole

       thing started to vibrate.

      40

      ‘You can’t go five metres without

      seeing his face these days,’ he said,

      and he turned left down Bunky’s road,

      which everyone knows is the shortest

      short cut to Mogden Pier.

      I pressed my nose up against the car

      window and spotted Bunky standing

      outside his house talking to Nancy and

      her dad, Mr Verkenwerken. Which

      didn’t surprise me, seeing as they’re

      next-door neighbours.

      41

      ‘DONALD COX!’ I boomed, waving at

      Bunky. I’ve started calling Bunky

      ‘Donald Cox’ sometimes, by the way,

      because it makes him wee his pants

      with laughter.

      Bunky carried on standing there, chatting

      to Nancy and Mr Verkenwerken

      and not weeing his pants at all, and

      I realised I hadn’t wound my window

      down.

      42

      I wound my window down and took a deep breath. ‘DONALD COX!’ I boomed again, and Bunky and Nancy jumped.

      ‘DONALD COX!’ boomed Bunky back, because he’s started calling me ‘Donald Cox’ too.

      ‘Help me, Donald - my dad’s kidnapped

      me!’ I shouted, imagining I was Future Ratboy, and I’d been captured by his

      number one enemy, Mr X, and locked up in the back of Mr X’s giant metal scorpion.

      43

      ‘He’s sending me to Pirate Camp,

       Donald!’ I screamed, pounding my fists

       against the air, miming like I hadn’t