Читать книгу Barry Loser and the birthday billions - Jim Smith - Страница 11

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)