Chapter 42. Attack of the Dads
Chapter 46. The ‘Amazing’ Tent
Chapter 48. And Then There Was One
Chapter 50. And the Winner Is …
Chapter 51. Decisions, Decisions
Chapter 53. And the Winner Is …
Note from Me, the Writer of this, Spike Hughes
Can you imagine what it would be like to have your very own radio show?
Just think about it for a moment.
You could do whatever you wanted, say what you wanted, and get your listeners to do ANYTHING.
Well, that’s me. Spike Hughes. Living the dream. Surfing the radio airwaves from my garden shed at Number 27 Crow Crescent.
And the Secret Shed Show is live on air right now …
‘Spike, you cannot do this!’ begged my radio-show producer, Holly.
‘Oh yes, I can,’ I replied.
The song came to an end. Time to speak. I suddenly remembered watching this old documentary with my dad about a motorcycle daredevil called Evel Knievel. He would jump over things on his motorbike. Cars, buses and planes. He even once tried to jump across thirteen London buses at Wembley Stadium. I felt like him, about to try to make that jump.
The MIC LIVE sign turned bright red, meaning we were on air. I spoke into the mic.
‘So, who of you listening right now is brave enough to go and get one of your Christmas presents from under the tree, without anyone catching you, and open it up live on the show? Just grab one and call us right away!’
‘This is a really bad idea,’ said Artie, but I could see he was trying to swallow down his laughter as producer Holly scowled at us both.
A few months ago, after the whole school strike situation,1 I had promised them both I would take it easy, but what’s the point in having your own radio show if you can’t have a bit of fun every once in a while?
I could see we had callers eager to take part in my ‘bad idea’. I picked one.
‘Hello, you’re live on the Secret Shed Show. Who is this?’
‘Hi, Radio Boy and the team.’
Artie and Holly mumbled back a very strained ‘Hi’, making it very clear they still didn’t approve of what I was doing. Artie is my radio-show sidekick and he also picks all the music. He doesn’t really want to be a famous DJ like me. He’s just here because he likes being part of it. Holly is my producer because she’s the smartest out of the three of us. They are my best friends, and my only friends. I guess it’s like being in a band together. Does that make Artie the triangle player?
Anyway, they knew all too well how much trouble could come from my spontaneous ideas. I’ll tell you a little secret: this wasn’t that spontaneous as I had planned to do it, but knew if I told them before the show they’d try to stop me.
‘I’ve got a present to open from under the Christmas tree,’ said our caller.
‘OK. Firstly, what’s your name?’
‘Nick.’
‘OK, Nick, describe the present to us.’
‘It’s huge, I can hardly lift it, almost the size of a door.’
‘Is this your main present?’ I asked. I was starting to get a little worried, as Christmas is all about the MP. The Main Present. Had Nick grabbed the big one from under his family’s Christmas tree?
‘Oh yes,’ replied Nick. I could almost hear him frothing with excitement. You know what Christmas is like. It almost makes you sick with anticipation. It can’t come soon enough. But for Nick, it would come right now, live, on my radio show. I looked at the terrified faces of Artie and Holly and hesitated for only a split second, then, excited by the power I had right at that moment, I shouted –
‘Open it, Nick!’
Suddenly, the full horror of what I was doing got to Artie and he grabbed his mic, yelling:
‘DON’T DO THIS, NICK! YOU’LL GET INTO HUGE TROUBLE!’
Holly’s mouth was wide open, like she was watching a car crash in slow motion.
‘DO IT, Nick!’ I demanded.
He did it. We heard the unmistakable sound of wrapping paper being torn off – no, more ripped apart like a bear attacking a tent. There was no going back now. I had put tonight’s radio show on a roller coaster. The question was, were we on the going-up bit, or plummeting down out of control?
Nick squealed in the most amazingly high-pitched way.
‘OH WOW! OH WOW! OH WOW!’
‘What is it, Nick?’ yelled Artie. Now he wanted to play my game!
‘It’s … it’s … it’s … an Xbox, a brand-new Xbox,’ said Nick, sounding as if he was crying with joy. The wonder of Christmas!
The moment was then shattered by the very loud footsteps we could hear from Nick’s end of the line, and the sound of a door slamming