Jim Smith

Barry Loser and the trouble with pets


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      First published in Great Britain 2019

      by Egmont UK Ltd, The Yellow Building,

      1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

      Text and illustration copyright © Jim Smith 2019

      The moral rights of Jim Smith have been asserted.

      ISBN 978 1 4052 9248 1

      eISBN 978 1 7803 1801 1

       barryloser.com

       www.egmont.co.uk

      A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from

      the British Library

      Printed and bound in Great Britain by the CPI Group

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      As far back as I can remember,

      I’ve always wanted a sausage dog. They’re like two of my favourite things squidged together - a sausage

      and a dog!

      5

      Here are some other pets I’ve always

       wanted:

      I don’t think any of those exist though.

      6

      If I did get a sausage dog I’d teach

       it some amazekeel tricks:

      But first I’ve got to badger my mum about it non-stop until she buys me one. Which is what this story is about.

      7

      It all started a couple of weeks ago when I saw a poster stuck to a lamp post on Mogden High Street. The poster said:

      8

      ‘Look, Mum!’ I said, pointing at the poster. We were walking home from school, which is something I usually

       do with my best friends Bunky and Nancy, except this time my mum had

       dragged me into Mogden Town to do some boring old shopping instead.

      She stopped pushing the buggy, which had my little brother, Desmond Loser the Second, strapped inside it, and peered at the poster.

      9

      ‘Gladys Foo?’ chuckled my mum, carrying on walking. ‘That’s a funny old name isn’t it.’

      I thought about reminding my mum that her surname was ‘Loser’, and how before she’d married my dad it’d been ‘Harumpadunk’. But I had more important things to be getting on with than that.

      I opened my mouth and got ready to do some serious badgering.

      10

      Have you noticed how, when you’re

       thinking about something a lot, like

       sausages and dogs for example, they

       keep popping up everywhere you look?

      That’s what started happening next.

      11

      We’d only walked as far as the next lamp post, when what did I see but a totally normal, boring old dog weeing up against it.

      ‘Check it out!’ I said, starting to badger my mum. ‘A little doggy having a wee wee. Do you know what that reminds me of?’

      12

      My mum peered down at me. ‘Do you need the toilet, Barry?’ she asked.

      ‘No mum, I don’t need the toilet,’

      I sighed, and we carried on walking until we got to Bruce the butcher’s and I spotted a string of plastic sausages hanging up in the window.

      ‘Oh my unkeelness,’ I said, pointing at the fake bangers. ‘Plastic sausages! Can you guess what they make me think of, Mum?’

      13

      My mum gave me a funny look, like she thought I was trying to tell her

       I needed a poo or something. ‘Half a dozen sausages please Bruce,’ she said to the butcher.

      ‘MU-UM!’ I said, trying to get her attention.

      ‘WHAT, Barry?’ snapped my mum.

      ‘Well,’ I said. ‘You know how you’re buying sausages right now?’

      ‘Just get to the point,’ sighed my mum.

      14

      Bruce the butcher handed my mum her sausages. ‘That’s a fiver for you, Losers,’ he said, doing a wink.

      ‘No chance!’ said my mum, but I don’t think she was talking to Bruce.

      15

      I cried.

      We walked out of the butcher

       and started heading home. ‘Looking forward to the disco, Barry?’ asked my mum, because it was the Mogden School Valentine’s Day Disco tonight.

      ‘Yeah I spose,’ I said, wondering if I should give up badgering her for a sausage dog and try for a spaghetti Bolognese stick insect instead.

      16

      ‘Barry!’ cried Bunky as I walked into Mogden School Hall nine trillion hours later.

      Coloured lights were flashing round the edge of the room and music

       was blaring out of two ginormous speakers. Balloons bounced around

       on the dance floor and a black box hanging off the ceiling pumped purple clouds of smoke into the air.

      17

      In the corner of the hall, standing behind a table, was Mrs Dongle the school secretary.

      ‘This is DJ Dongles coming at ya on the ones and twos!’ she warbled into a microphone.

      Then she pressed a button on her music player and the Future Ratboy theme tune started playing through the speakers.

      18

      Future Ratboy, in case you didn’t know, is my all-time favourite TV show. It’s all about this kid who gets zapped to the future and transformed into a half boy,

       half rat, half TV.

      ‘Future Ratkeels!’ I cried, sticking

       my hand out in front of me like

       I was holding a dog lead, and I jiggled towards Bunky, my bum wagging like it had a tail.

      19

      ‘What in the name of unkeelness are you doing, Barry?’ laughed Nancy