Читать книгу Hunky Dory - Jean Ure, Stephen Lee, Jean Ure - Страница 6

LIKES AND DISLIKES

Name your favourite

Food Maggot pie and chips

Drink Wet sick

Colour Puke greenS

ong Mr Smelly Goes to Town

TV programme Secrets of a Sewage Farm

Band Flaming Flamingos

The Microdot gave me this questionnaire. She said she was doing tests, and I had to fill it in. So I filled it in, and she screamed at me.

“This is just stupid!”

Actually, I thought it was quite funny, but the Microdot has no sense of humour. She screeched, “I suppose you think you’re being clever?”

I guess I might have smirked a bit. Not exactly meaning to; more like a sort of nervous tic. It does my head in when she screeches. Trouble is, once she starts she can’t seem to stop. She just rages on and on. She screeched at me that it wasn’t clever, it was stupid.

“There isn’t any such programme as Secrets of a Sewage Farm, and if it was it would be disgusting!”

I said, “Pardon me, that is just your interpretation.”

“What about maggot pie? Are you trying to tell me that’s not disgusting? And what’s this stupid Flamingo thing? I’ve never heard of a band called that. You just made it up!”

I said, “How do you know? You don’t know the name of every band there’s ever been.”

Witheringly she said that nobody would call a band anything that stupid. “It’s just about the stupidest name I ever heard!”

I told her that that was the fifth time she’d used the word stupid. I said, “You ought to get a bit more vocabulary.”

She screeched, “Yes, and you ought to get a life! You know what this shows, don’t you?” She snatched up the questionnaire and waved it at me. “It shows that you’re repressed.”

I said, “Yeah?” I don’t think she even knows what the word means.

She said, “Yeah! It shows you’re too scared to reveal your true self…you have to hide behind being stupid.”

“That makes the sixth time,” I said.

“Sixth time what?”

“Sixth time you’ve used that word.”

“That’s cos it’s the only one that describes you!”

All because I treated her silly little questionnaire as a joke. I bet even if I’d taken it seriously she’d still have said it showed there was something weird about me. She’s always saying I’m weird. She told me the other day I was like a human hermit crab.

“Skulking in your shell!”

If I’m like a hermit crab, she’s like a hornet, all angry and buzzing. Zzz, zzz, zzz! You’re stupid, you’re weird!

I’m not like a hermit crab; I don’t skulk. She just can’t bear it when other people don’t share her interests. Shopping, and shrieking, and giggling. I reckon she ought to learn to be a bit more tolerant.

Now she’s threatening to give me more of her idiotic tests. She gets them out of girly mags. Ten Ways to Tell if a Boy’s Interested in You. (Like any boy ever would be, the way she carries on.) Check your Popularity. Check your Street Cred. It’s all rubbish! She’d better not try any of them on me. She tried one on Dad the other day. Something about hair. What your Latest Hair Style reveals about You. Dad practically hasn’t got any hair. Will said, “What it reveals is that Dad is going bald.” She didn’t have a go at him. She didn’t accuse him of being stupid. It’s just me she’s got it in for. Her and her tests!

If she gives me that one about Check your Popularity I shall refuse to answer it. I don’t see why, just because she’s my sister, she should be allowed to humiliate me.