Barry Loser and the trouble with pets. Jim Smith

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

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      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.

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      ‘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.

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      ‘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.

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      ‘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.’

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      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.

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      ‘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.

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      ‘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 at our table.

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      ‘May I have the pleasure of this boogie?’ he said in his normal, loserish voice, and he shot his robot hand

       out to Nancy.

      I peered down at Nancy’s tapping foot, then up to her smiling face.

      ‘Oh why the keelness not!’ she said, grabbing Anton’s hand and swooshing on to the dance floor.

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      ‘Nancy!’ I cried, not that there was time for that - Fay was too busy zig-zagging up to my other best friend.

      ‘Bunky!’ I shouted. ‘Watch out, Snoggles is coming to get you!’

      But Bunky just ignored me and started dancing with her.

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      You know how in TV shows they just cut to a few days later?

      That’s what happened next - suddenly it was Monday morning and I was walking into my classroom at school.

      ‘Oh my days, how brillz was that disco, Fay?’ squawked Sharonella’s voice, and I looked over to where her and Fay Snoggles usually sit next to each other.

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      The only thing was, Fay wasn’t sitting next to Sharonella at this exact millisecond in the history of the universe - she was sitting next to . . .

      BUNKY!

      ‘Erm, there seems to have been some kind of terrible mix up here,’ I said, walking over to my seat, which if you haven’t worked it out yet is where Fay had plonked her bum.

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      ‘Hi Barry,’ grinned Fay. ‘Nigel said

       I could sit next to him today.’

      Nigel Zuckerberg is Bunky’s real-life name, in case you didn’t know.

      I looked at Bunky and he smiled up at me, the way a naughty doggy does

       to its owner.

      ‘Hmm, yes, well,’ I said all carefully,

       trying not to get too annoyed. After

       all, it was just a silly old chair. ‘If you

       don’t mind, could you pop back over

       to your own seat please?’

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      ‘This area’s reserved for the Shazzonofskis,’ snapped Sharonella, plomping her handbag down in the chair next to her. ‘That’s me and Darren’s names squidged together,’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes at me. ‘Me and you coulda been the Losernellas if you’d played your cards right, Baz.’

      I breathed in through my nostrils all slowly, the way my mum does when I’m badgering her about buying me a sausage dog. ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘I’ll sit next to Nancy.’

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      ‘SEAT. TAKEN.’ bleeped a familikeels voice, and I spotted Anton Mildew perched next to my other best friend.

      ‘So wait a millisecond,’ I said, trying to work out where I was going to

      sit. Then I realised it was where Anton usually sits, which is right at the front of the classroom, next to his invisible friend, Invis.

      ‘Oh well that’s just blooming brilliant,’ I mumbled, plonking my bum down and getting ready for the worst week ever.

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      The whole rest of the week was just like Monday morning, except dotted around in different bits of school.

      Like lunch on Tuesday in the canteen when Bunky & Fay and Nancy & Anton and the Shazzonofskis СКАЧАТЬ