Читать книгу The World of David Walliams: 7 Book Collection - David Walliams, Quentin Blake, David Walliams - Страница 57
Оглавление“WE WANT STINK! WE WANT STINK!”
Chloe peeked through a gap in the curtains. There was a huge crowd of people outside their house. News reporters, camera crews, and hundreds and hundreds of local people waving large pieces of cardboard emblazoned with slogans.
Mr Stink’s appearance on television the previous night had obviously had an enormous effect on people. Overnight he had gone from being an unknown smelly tramp to a hugely famous smelly tramp.
Chloe put on her dressing gown and raced down to the shed.
“Is it time for Lily to meet the flesh-eating zombie teachers?” enquired Mr Stink as she entered.
“No, no, no, Mr Stink! Can’t you hear the crowds outside?!”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you properly,” he said. “I found these rabbit droppings in the garden. They make excellent earplugs.” He popped out the two little brown pellets as Chloe looked on with a curious mixture of disgust and admiration at his ingenuity. For those of you who may find yourself out in the wild and in need of earplugs, just follow this easy step-by-step guide.
First find a friendly rabbit.
Wait patiently for it to deposit some droppings for you.
Insert one in each ear. Larger ears will require bigger droppings and possibly even a bigger rabbit.
Enjoy a great night’s sleep only slightly marred by the smell of rabbit poo.
The Duchess sniffed at the droppings in the vain hope that they might be a couple of rogue Maltesers or at the very worst some of Raj’s despised coffee Revels, but quickly turned up her nose when she realised they were poo, and went back to her makeshift basket.
“That’s better,” said Mr Stink. “You know, I had the strangest dream last night, Miss Chloe. I was on television discussing all the important issues of the day! Your mother was there too! It was hilarious!”
“That was no dream, Mr Stink. That really happened.”
“Oh, dear,” said the tramp. “Maybe it wasn’t so funny after all.”
“It was hilarious, Mr Stink. You were the star of the show. And now there’s hundreds of people camped outside the house.”
“What on earth do they want, child?”
“You!” said Chloe. “They want you to interview you I think. And some people want you to be the Prime Minister!”
The crowd was getting louder and louder now. “WE WANT STINK! WE WANT STINK! WE WANT STINK!”
“Oh my word, yes I can hear them. They want me as Prime Minister, you say? Ha ha! I must remember to appear on television more often! Maybe I can be king next too!”
“You’d better get up, Mr Stink. Now!”
“Yes, of course, Miss Chloe. Right, I want to look smart for my fans.”
He bumbled around the shed sniffing his clothes and grimacing. If even he thinks they’re smelly, thought Chloe, they must be really bad.
“I could put some clothes on a quick wash and dry for you,” she offered hopefully.
“No, thank you, my dear. I don’t think washing machines are hygienic. I’ll just get the Duchess to chew some of the particularly nasty stains out.”
He dug through a pile of his clothes and pulled out a pair of spectacularly dirt-encrusted brown trousers. Whether they had been brown when they started their life was now anybody’s guess. He passed them to the Duchess, who began her task of a reluctant dry cleaner and started munching on the stains.
Chloe cleared her throat. “Um…Mr Stink. You said on the TV show how every homeless person has a different story to tell. Well, can you tell me your story? I mean, why did you end up on the streets?”
“Why do you think, my dear?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got millions of theories. Maybe you were abandoned in a forest as a baby and raised by a pack of wolves?”
“No!” he chuckled.
“Or I reckon you were a world-famous rock star who faked your own death as you couldn’t handle all the adulation.”
“I wish I was!”
“All right then, you were a top scientist who invented the most powerful bomb in the world and then, realising its dangers, went on the run from the military.”
“Well, those are all very imaginative guesses,” he said. “But I am sorry, none of them are right. You’re not even close, I’m afraid.”
“I thought not.”
“I will tell you when the time is right, Chloe.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Now please give me a few minutes, my dear. I must get ready to greet my public!”
