Jim Smith

Barry Loser Hates Half Term


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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 him the first time.

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      I jumped into his ferry, which was

       actually just a little wooden boat with

       a tiny motor hanging off the back of

       it, and sat down next to the girl. She

       was looking a teeny weeny bit nervous,

       and I guessed it must be her first time

       at Pirate Camp.

      ‘It’s that boy who was crying!’ she

       giggled up at her mum, who was

       standing on the pier, but I just ignored

       them both, because I was too busy

       looking at the captain’s hand.

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      The captain’s hand was at the end

      of his arm, which is where hands

      usually are. What wasn’t usual about

      this hand, howeverypoos, was that it

      only had two fingers.

      ‘See you’ve seen me fingas!’ said the

      captain, and I immedi-swivelled my

      eyes a millimetre to the right, so they

      didn’t look like they were looking at his

      fingers any more. ‘Fishies got ‘em!’ he

      cackled, nodding out towards the lake,

      and I wondered if Mogden Lake had

      sharks in it or something.

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      ‘R-r-really?’ stuttered the little girl,

       suddenly not giggling any more, and

       she stuffed her hands into her pockets

       for safekeeping.

      ‘Nah, jus’ pulling ya legs!’ chuckled the

       captain, and the little girl glanced down

       at her legs, looking like she wished she

       had somewhere to hide them too.

      The captain undid the rope that was

       keeping the boat tied to Mogden Pier

       and started fiddling with the motor.

       He grabbed a handle with his two

       fingers and gave it a tug, and the

       ferry started blowing off, little clouds

       of smoke floating out of its bum.

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