Barry Loser Hates Half Term. Jim Smith

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      I Future-Ratboy-speed-dialled the number and Darren’s pocket started to ring. ‘Darrenofski residence,’ he said, clicking a button halfway up his earphone wire.

      ‘Er . . . what in the unkeelness are you

      doing here, Dazzoid?’ I said into my

      phone.

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      Darren took a slurp on his Fronkle and

       burped again. ‘Oh nothing, I was just

       passing . . .’ he said, looking a teeny

       weeny bit shifty-wifty, and I wondered

       if he’d been wandering around Mogden

       all on his own, hoping to bump into

       someone to play it keel with.

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      You know how Desmond had been

       screaming from Darren’s burp going

       up his nostrils? Well that was still

       happening.

      ‘Don’t cry, Dezzy,’ said Nancy, reaching

       into Desmond’s car seat and pulling out

       his cuddly toy clown.

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      Desmond stopped screaming and

       reached out for his clown. ‘Cwowny!’

       he gurgled, trying to say its name,

       which is ‘Clowny Wowny’, the loserest

       name ever.

      ‘Hewwo, my name is Clowny Wowny!’

       said Nancy to Desmond, doing her

       Clowny Wowny impression, and I rolled

       the two eyeball-shaped gobstoppers in

       my pocket, which I’d brought along to

       keep me company on Mogden Island.

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      Clowny Wowny is the loserish clown

       character that all the kiddywinkles

       watch on TV these days. All that

       happens in a whole episode is that

       Clowny Wowny wobbles around in his

       stupid giant clown shoes, falling over

       stuff and doing blowoffs.

      ‘I can’t believe the rubbish they put on

       TV these days, Donald,’ I said to Bunky.

      ‘I know, Donald, it’s not like when we

       were kids,’ Bunky said, doing a back-

       to-front-reverse-upside-down-salute,

      which is what Future Ratboy does when

      he’s agreeing with someone.

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      I looked at my two best friends and

      waggled my favourite eyebrow, and

      my least favourite one too. ‘Come

      with me, PLEEEASE?’ I whimpered,

      missing them both already, even

      though they were standing in front

      of my eyebrows.

      ‘I’m sorry, Barry, we’re just too old for

      Pirate Camp . . .’ said Nancy, peering

      down at the floor.

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      ‘Plus we’re going on a Poo Tour with

       Nancy’s dad today!’ said Bunky. ‘We

       were just about to come round yours

       and tell you when you drove past!’

      I rewound my brain to them standing

       outside their houses, talking to Mr

       Verkenwerken. ‘A Poo Tour?’ I cried.

       ‘What in the unkeelness is that?’

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      ‘It’s where Mr Verkenwerken walks us

       round the countryside, pointing out all

       the different animals’ poos!’ sniggled

       Bunky, as Nancy took her glasses off.

      ‘It’s more of a NATURE tour really,’ she

       said, cleaning them on her skirt. ‘My

       dad just calls it a Poo Tour to get

       people like you and Bunky interested.

       We mostly walk around looking at

       flowers and insects and stuff . . .’

      ‘AND POO!’ shouted Bunky, and I fast-

       forwarded my brain to how keel the

       Poo Tour was going to be. Not that I

       was going to be on it.

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      Darren put his hand on my shoulder

      and took another slurp of Fronkle.

      ‘Don’t worry, Loser, I’ll take your

      place!’ he burped, and I shrugged his

      hand off and turned to face the

      pier, where the captain was waiting.

      ‘All aboard for Mogden Island!’

      he boomed.

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      ‘All aboard for Mogden Island!’ boomed the captain again, and I wondered if he just liked saying it, seeing as it was only me and the little girl from my school

      getting on, and we’d both comperleeterly

      heard СКАЧАТЬ