The World's Loudest Armpit Fart (3 page)

Danny didn’t answer. He was looking at the team third on the list: Bunbury Bantams.

‘Oh no!’ he said. ‘That’s
her
team. We’ll be playing against Sally Butterworth, and she’s already scored against me.’

‘That was beach football,’ argued Matthew. ‘It doesn’t count. And anyway, you won’t be fit in time for that game.’

‘No, but I
will
be fit for the Junior Schools’ Invitation Soccer Tournament two weeks later, and we’re playing against Bunbury Bantams again!’

Just then a new kid swaggered up to them.

Danny turned and came face to face with Maradona Potts, the boy whose cheating cheese had put him in plaster.

‘You!’ exclaimed Danny.

‘Me!’ retorted Potts.

Danny lifted his plaster-covered leg. ‘You did this!’

Maradona glanced down. ‘Tough,’ he snorted.

‘What kind of a name’s
Maradona
?’ asked Matthew.

‘My dad wanted me to be the greatest striker in the world ever. But I’m going to be the greatest goalkeeper in the world ever instead.’

‘My dad’s the Greatest Goalkeeper in the World Ever,’ said Danny.

‘Who’s your dad?’

‘Bobby Baker.’

‘Never heard of him.’

Danny glared at the new kid. ‘And
I’m
the goalie for Coalclough Sparrows.’

Maradona raised his eyebrows and stared at Danny’s crutches.

‘I’ll be back in a couple of weeks,’ said Danny.

‘Tough. I’m in the team now, so you won’t get your place back.’

Before Danny could reply, Potts swaggered away. ‘Get used to being in the reserves, Baker,’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘You’re going to be there for a long time.’

‘Twit,’ said Danny.

‘Twerp,’ agreed Matthew.

Dear Mr Bibby

I’m in trouble with my sister, Natalie, again. It was all her fault though. Probably.

This morning, I tried to break the world record for the Tallest Free-standing Tower of Animal-shaped Jellies. I used my Auntie Sarah’s wombat-shaped jelly moulds, and Wibberly Wobberly’s Sausage and Satsuma jelly. I followed the instructions, but they came out too wibbly.

Matthew made a giant ruler that he stuck to the wall of my house and I built the tower on the patio in front of it. He also invented a thingummyjig with a plate on the end of an extending arm, so that I could keep piling the jellies higher and higher.

I’d got the tower as high as my bedroom window when Nats came into the garden with her best friends Kaylie and Kylie. Just as I was putting another jelly on top of the pile, she yelled, ‘MUM!’ – snitching on me like she always does. The noise made me jump and I nudged the tower. It swung backwards, bounced off the wall, then crashed over like a tree. Natalie, Kaylie and Kylie were standing in a line and
SPLAT
! the jellies got all three of them.

Kylie's allergic to sausages and straight away her face swelled up in big red blotches.

Here’s a picture Matthew took of my wombat-shape jelly tower. It was 5.29 m high when it fell. Is this a record? I hope so, because today I’ve got
three
girls trying to pull my ears off.

Best wishes

Danny Baker

PS I had my plaster cast sawn off yesterday. Now I’ve got to get fit. I want that clean-sheet record!

Dear Danny

When will you learn? Sisters and records don’t mix, and neither do sausages and satsumas, if you ask me!

The world record for the Tallest Free-standing Tower of Animal-shaped Jellies is held by fifteen Outer Mongolian jelly-worshippers. Their leader, Jelli Belli, wanted to create a Jelly Heaven on Earth, so the group built a stone temple on the outskirts of Ulan Bator, and filled it with jellies of all shapes, sizes and flavours. At the centre was a vast trembling tower of mango-flavoured, yak-shaped jellies, 89 m high.

On 17 October 1966 a massive thunderstorm hit Ulan Bator, with hailstones as big as tennis balls. A bolt of lightning struck the jelly tower and liquefied it instantly. The temple filled to the top with liquid jelly and drowned everyone inside. When the storm was over, the jelly cooled and solidfied, leaving Jelli Belli and his group of strange jelly-worshippers perfectly preserved in their own Jelly Heaven. They can still be seen to this day.

I’m afraid you missed out this time, Danny, but keep trying; there are lots of jelly records to go for.

Best wishes

Eric Bibby

Keeper of the Records

Danny lay awake in bed. It was late and he couldn’t sleep. Natalie was having a sleepover in the room next to his, and she, Kaylie and Kylie were giggling and squealing like three little pigs. But there was another reason Danny couldn’t sleep: he was waiting for the moment when they finally snuggled down in their sleeping bags.

‘Eeyoooow!’

‘Aiyeeeek!’

‘Yeuuukkk!’

The moment had arrived. Danny hid under his duvet and rocked with laughter.

‘Mum!’ yelled Natalie. ‘There’s something horrible in our sleeping bags!’

‘It’s sick!’ howled Kaylie.

‘It’s snot!’ wailed Kylie.

‘It’s a cowpat!’ growled Natalie.

The girls appeared in Danny’s doorway and glared at him.

‘Danny!’
shouted Mum. ‘What have you been up to?’ She stomped upstairs and into Natalie’s bedroom.

Danny tried to look innocent. ‘I haven’t done anything!’

Mum pushed past the girls and held out a handful of jelly. ‘Then how did
this
get in their sleeping bags?’