Barry Loser and the birthday billions. Jim Smith
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it up first, Barry!’ chuckled my dad, pulling a mile-long cable out of the box and plugging it into the wall.
‘Oh yeah!’ I said, and my mum did a face that looked like she thought Wolf Tizzler probably would’ve worked that out.
I lifted the SHNOZINATOR 9000 off my head and plugged it into the other end of the cable and a little green triangle lit up on the side.
‘SHNOZINATOR 9000 CHARGING!’ bleeped a robotty voice.
‘Time for a bday wee!’ I said, plonking the SHNOZINATOR 9000 down on the kitchen table and walking off all happily towards the toilet.
‘Ahhh, that’s what I call a fantastikeels bday wee!’ I said, strolling out of the toilet. ‘Now, let’s see if my SHNOZINATOR 9000’s charged up!’
I walked into the kitchen and froze.
My SHNOZINATOR 9000 wasn’t on the table where I’d left it. Instead, there was a trail of white electric cable stretching from the plug socket through the archway into the living room.
I followed the cable into the living room and froze again.
‘Waaahhh!’ I screamed.
Desmond Loser the Second was sitting on the carpet in front of the telly, his bum squidged into my upside-down SHNOZINATOR 9000 like it was his potty.
He was watching his favourite TV show, Clowny Wowny, and his face was very red. Desmond’s face being very red is never a good thing.
‘Operation Get Desmond’s Bum Out of My SHNOZINATOR 9000 Before He Does a Poo in It!’ I screamed, flying through the air like Future Ratboy.
I scooped Des out of the SHNOZINATOR 9000 and plonked him on the sofa then twizzled round and stared down into my helmet.
The good news was, he hadn’t done a poo. The bad news was, he’d done a wee.
The worst thing about your little brother doing a wee into your brand new SHNOZINATOR 9000 before you’ve even managed to charge it up is that WEE COMPERLEETERLY BREAKS A SHNOZINATOR 9000.
‘Oh Barry,’ said my mum, cuddling me into her dressing gown for the second time that morning.
I wriggled out of my mum’s dressing gown and looked at the little green triangle on the side of the helmet. It flickered, turned red, then fizzled out.
‘Can you fix it, Dad?’ I whimpered, feeling like a little light had fizzled out inside my belly.
‘Hmmm, not sure I can Barry,’ said my dad, peering into the SHNOZINATOR 9000. His face peered back up at him, reflected in the pool of wee.
‘Can we take it back to Feeko’s then?’ I said. ‘We could swap it for one that hasn’t got wee all in it!’
My dad looked at me the way I look at my best friend Bunky when I feel sorry for how tiny his brain is.
‘I don’t think Feeko’s takes back SHNOZINATOR 9000s that’ve been weed into, Barry,’ he said.
I stood still for a trillisecond as I tried to work out what to do.
Desmond was sitting on the sofa watching the telly with a grin on his face. Lying on the carpet was his cuddly Clowny Wowny, also doing a grin.
My brain cells started to boil like a kettle.
I walked over to Clowny Wowny and trod on its stupid belly. Then I bent down, grabbed its head and gave it a tug.
Here is a fact about cuddly Clowny Wownys you might not know: their heads rip off much easier than you’d think.
‘Waaahhh!’ screamed Desmond Loser the Second as I dropped Clowny Wowny’s head into my SHNOZINATOR 9000 full of wee and stomped upstairs to bed.
(of chapter)
‘Barry Garry Larry Loser, what DO you think you are doing?’ said my mum, swinging my bedroom door open.
‘I’m having a bday nap,’ I said.
‘Don’t act clever with me, young man. I mean downstairs,’ said my mum, her eyebrows tilting into their angry positions.
‘Ooh, now let me think,’ I said. ‘I believe I was ripping Clowny Wowny’s head off and dunking it in his owner’s wee.’
Saying it out loud like that made me sound like a bit of a weirdo. I grabbed a pillow and squodged it over my head, wishing it was a SHNOZINATOR 9000 that’d zap me straight to Shnozville.
‘I know you’re upset about your Shnozi-whatsitcalled, but that doesn’t mean you can go around breaking other people’s things!’ shouted my mum.
‘But he broke my thing first!’ I screamed.
‘I don’t care,’ said my mum, grabbing my arm and marching me down the stairs again. ‘Desmond’s a baby – he doesn’t know what he’s doing. You’re a big boy, Barry – you should know better!’
‘It’s my birthday! I don’t HAVE to know better!’ I cried. ‘Can we go to Feeko’s, Mum? Pleeease can we get me another SHNOZINATOR 9000?’
‘We most certainly cannot – I’m not made of money, you know!’ said my mum. ‘Now apologise to your little brother.’
‘Sorry I ripped Clowny Wowny’s head off, even though you weed into my SHNOZINATOR 9000,’ I grumbled.
Desmond, who’d comperleeterly forgotten about Clowny Wowny, remembered Clowny Wowny and started to scream again.
‘And you’ll be sewing that head back on as soon as it comes out of the washing machine!’ my mum said to me.