Читать книгу Suck'd - Susan Berran - Страница 9

Life totally sucks!

It’s been a sucky day, every day of this sucky week! And today has been the suckiest of all the sucky days of the whole suckfest of a week on this big sucky planet in the whole sucktacular universe!

My best mate Jared’s been away from school every single day of the week. Yeah, thanks a lot pal … not!

We always ride our bikes to school together. But on Monday, Jared was sooking and whinging about a massive headache and waffling something about feeling really crook. He reckons it kind of felt like someone had yanked out his stomach, filled it with mouldy green cheese and chucked it into a blender for an hour, before stuffing it back into his body. We even had to stop by the side of the road a couple of times on the way to school just so that he could chuck-up. Which was actually pretty AWESOMELY gross.

But at least it gave us the chance to play one of our all-time favourite games …

‘I Know What You Ate Before It Became An Awesome Pile Of Puke’ … which, by the way, Jared is the reigning supreme WORLD CHAMPION OF THE WHOLE ENTIRE UNIVERSE. But he cheated, of course. The last time I spewed, Jared knew exactly what I had to eat for dinner the night before because he’d come over to our place for tea that night.

We’ve played so many times now that I know whatever goes into Jared last, usually comes out first. Yep, backwards all the way from this morning’s breaky, to some sort of pudding after last night’s dinner, and all the way back to Fruit Loops for yesterday’s breaky.

Anyway, at our first stop on the way to school that day, Jared chucked-up a nice little load.

“Hmmm … more yellowy than usual … very smooth texture … smells slightly, sniff snifF … burnt I think … ummm … ohh, I’ve got it! You had scrambled eggs on toast for breaky this morning.”

“Wrong! When it went in it was boiled eggs and muffins,” Jared informed me, looking happy but weirdly pale.

“Rats!”

A couple of minutes later, we suddenly had to hit the brakes so Jared could offload into the dirt on the side of the road again.

“Hmmm … orange-coloured chunks … could be carrot, no … it had to be last night’s desert … I reckon it was … was … oh I know! Last night’s dessert was custard and peaches!”

“I’ll give ya half a point you’re sort of right. It was cheesecake and peaches,” he said, starting to go mouldy green.

We’d only just jumped back onto our bikes and gone another five or six metres when Jared needed to hurl … AGAIN!

I was beginning to think Jared wasn’t just chucking a sicky. Maybe he really was crook after all. And this time he brought up an entire smorgasbord of meat and at least three veggies and a heap of other grossly disgusting stuff. It was HUGE! This was going to take some real expert skill and keen observation to figure out.

“Hmm … let’s see now,” I said as I very closely inspected the humongous heap of revolting hurl. “It’s definitely dinner. Now let’s see … corn! Yep, there’s definitely corn.”

Everyone knows that there’s always corn. Even if you’ve never ever eaten it in your entire life, somehow whenever you throw up, there’s always corn. I actually reckon that everyone grows their very own corn plant in their body, just in case they ever get stuck on a deserted island or something. That way, your body just feeds itself corn so you can survive longer. Just like everyone has a kidney, a stomach, a brain – well, except for TOFFEE THOMAS, he definitely doesn’t have a brain – a liver, a heart and a big, tall corn plant. Me and Jared reckon it’s not hair that’s growing out of your ears and nose … it’s corn-stalks.

Anyway, there was definitely, positively corn in there.

“One point!” Jared said, starting to shiver and sway from side to side.

“Hmm … I think that’s carrot, or maybe it’s some more tinned fruit from dessert,” I said, pushing and poking a few orange-coloured chunks around with my fingertip. “Aha! It’s harder than before … it’s carrot!” I declared triumphantly.

“Yeah fine, another point!”

“Let’s see, hmmm, it’s sort of white and lumpy. Oh I know – potato!”

“Mashed, boiled or baked?” Jared said with a pale grin.

“Oooo, tricky! Well, I can’t see any crispy bits so baked is out … and the texture is really creamy,” I said, squishing and swirling it between two fingers. “Ummm, I think I’ll go with boiled … no, mashed … boiled … mashed, yeah definitely mashed … or, boiled … OK, mashed!”

“Lucky guess, you get another point.”

I was starting to get really excited. I only needed one more point and then I’d be tied with Jared’s top world record-breaking score.

“Now, what type of meat is that in there?”

I said glancing sideways at Jared, hoping he might accidentally drop a clue. But he wasn’t giving anything away. Actually his eyes weren’t really looking anywhere. They were sort of glazed over and rolling about in his head. He looked like he was about to just fall over.

I needed to get my points quickly; if Jared dropped to the ground unconscious he’d never believe I got the other bits right without cheating. But if you think about it, this is one game you definitely can’t cheat at. Hey, what are you going to do … taste the stuff? I don’t think so. Maybe I could get Booga Boris to do it though, he’ll eat anything … there’s a thought. I’ll have to think about that.

“Hmmm, it’s not really brown, it’s lighter than that. So it’s probably chick …” Just as I was about to say ‘chicken’, I glanced at Jared. He had this really weird look on his face. He was either about to throw up again or he thought he’d outsmarted me. Like that was ever going to happen.

With an outstretched finger I prodded at the white meaty flesh. It didn’t really tear, it sort of mooshed and slid apart like a deck of cards.

“Fish! It’s fish!” I yelled, feeling very pleased with myself.

“Damn!”

“Yes!” And that was a really tricky one. His family just about never have fish! I was tied with Jared’s best score ever. One more point and I’d be the new WORLD CHAMPION OF THE WHOLE

ENTIRE UNIVERSE!

Jared was looking really green now and starting to sweat like an overweight baboon in a sauna and sway in the breeze.

I wasn’t sure if it was because his title was at risk, or because he was about to hurl again. But man, he was as green as … as … hey, green. THAT’S IT! There were teeny-tiny bits of bright green floating around in his puke pile. I hadn’t even noticed them before. WOW, he chews his food really well.

I used my middle finger to gently poke a few bits. Hmm, tricky. It sort of looked like peas … but green stuff is the one we both always get stumped on. After all, it could be peas, beans, cabbage, broccoli, lettuce or even the most disgusting, icky, repulsive, hideous, repugnant, abhorrent, detestable, foul, revolting, loathsome and just plain old yuckiest of all the veggies in the whole entire wide world … BRUSSELS SPROUTS! EEEWWWW!

I needed to get this one right for the win.

I leant in closer … the green bits didn’t seem to be leafy … closer … and he’d chewed them up really well so he must really like them … closer … sniff snifF, or maybe they were … closer … hmmm … closer … yeah, I think they’re bea …

BaRfF! SpLaSh!

“eeewWww!! ”

OH, GROSS! Jared threw up again, right on top of the last lot, which I was just in the middle of sniffing and inspecting really closely. He caught me right smack dead in amongst it. Close enough to be caught, well … caught in the splash zone.

Disgusting greeny-yellowy slime was slowly running down the front of my bare legs, soaking my socks and slipping into my shoes. But there, right between a small chunk of corn and two bits of carrot racing over the folds of my sock like tiny veggie hurdlers, was one very nice, perfectly round, bright green .

. . pea!

“PEAS! ”

“You were halfway through saying beans!” Jared spat out desperately.

“Na-arr. I was about to say ‘I think they’ve been green peas’ before you chucked.”

“Oh crap!” said Jared wiping away the drool from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

“Yes! It’s a new world record!” I squealed, leaping into the air excitedly. “I’m the new ultimate supreme WORLD CHAMPION OF THE WHOLE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!”

You see, we’re only ever allowed to guess the last three meals. Anything before that is all just incredibly disgusting, totally gross, slimy liquid. Kinda like there’s nothing left in your stomach to chuck-up but you just keep on chucking anyway.

Jared was now as pale as a ghost rolled in flour and hiding in snow. So by then, I’d figured out he just might actually be really sick … naaahhh.

We finally wandered through the school gate, dumped our bikes in the rack and headed straight to the classroom. But just as we were strolling through the classroom door, the principal, Mrs Duckson, came barrelling out at warp speed nine and smacked straight into Jared … SLAMM! . . . sending him splattering to the floor … THUD!

“JARED!” she bellowed in her humongous, hulk-like voice, raining spit right across our faces – ewWw! Boy, was Jared gonna get it. She was gonna flatten him with her phlegm-filled words. He’d be lucky to survive. Yeah, he was dead-meat for sure, even though I reckon it was totally Mrs Duckson’s fault.

But then just as Mrs Duckson was about to let fly with her usual incredibly boring speech about how it was all Jared’s fault blah blah blah and how he should watch where he’s going RANT RANT RAVE RAVE and how he’s not the centre of the universe something something when suddenly, she stopped. She stared at Jared, who now looked more ZOMBIE than human. She raised her bushy mono-brow, her eyes squinted and her lips pushed out like a little doughnut as if she was trying to hold in a secret fart as she looked him up and down.

A split-second later she glanced at me, waffled something about veggies running down my socks, turned around and just disappeared! Probably to release the fart.

I found out later that she’d actually taken off for the office to call Jared’s mum to come and get him … which she did!

Hey … WHAT ABOUT ME!?

Did anyone ask me if it was OK for Jared to go home for the rest of the day? NOOO! Pretty inconsiderate don’t you think? So then five minutes later, Jared gets picked-up by his mum and goes off home for a nice little snooze in beddy-byes for the rest of the day. And I’m stuck at school with ‘The Seven Dimwits’. That’s what we call the sixth grade boys who all hang around together: TOFFEE, WHEEZY, Booga and RATTY, the twins DUFAS and DORKY, and worst of all, Itchy.

But then it gets even worse, if that’s even possible … GUESS WHAT!? I tried to call Jared that arvo to let him know what a sucktacular day I’d had, but his mum answered the phone and wouldn’t let me talk to him, cause he’s sooooo sick. And then she tells me he won’t be getting out of bed for school or anything else for maybe a couple of days!

So naturally I headed straight for the SECRET COMPARTMENT in my bedroom. I slid out the bottom drawer of my clothes cupboard and took out my ONE-OF-A-KIND, way cool, very AWESOME and totally secret walkie-talkie to call Jared.

I had to call him straight away because I desperately needed to find out what amazing plan he’d used to sucker his mum so brilliantly. That way I could chuck on the exact same sicky act with my mum. Of course, then when our mums left for work each day me and Jared would be free to hang out and bludge and do a heap of stuff together. Like working on our latest and greatest, MOST INCREDIBLE and absamativalutely awesomest skate ramp in the known UNIVERSE!

But when Jared finally answered his walkie-talkie he just drooled and slurred out a couple of words that I couldn’t understand and then started snoring!

A ha! So that was it! The old ‘SLUR YOUR WORDS SO THAT NO ONE CAN UNDERSTAND YOU AND PRETEND TO KEEP FALLING ASLEEP’ trick, eh? But throwing up all the way to school just to set the scene? That was brilliant. GENIUS! He even had me fooled, for a second.

The next morning I leapt out of bed and snuck off to the bathroom to pinch a few ear-buds. Then, pulling the fluff off the ends I rolled it up into two nice, tight little booga-sized fluff-balls. With a fluff-ball shoved up both nostrils, I dragged myself out to the kitchen …

“Mornaaarrrrr Maaaa,” I slurred slowly and painfully.

Mum was busy racing in and out of the kitchen at a hundred miles an hour, shovelling food into Little Miss Food and Fart Factory Melly’s face, and a slice of toast into her own … at the same time grabbing paperwork from all over the table and cupboards and smooshing it into her briefcase … at the same time grabbing stuff from the fridge and chucking it between a few slices of bread … at the same time brushing her and Melly’s hair and yanking clothes over her head … at the same time … WOW, was Mum even listening to me?

COUGH , COUGH , COUGH

“Eerrr Maaaa!” I tried to slur a little louder this time.

“Here’slunchbegoodloveyabye! ” Mum said as she whipped Melly out of her chair, shoved her under one arm, grabbed her case, shoved it under the other arm, headed towards the door, stomping each foot into a shoe, still chewing toast and all the while plastering make-up all over her face but barely throwing a glance anywhere near my direction.

SLAM! And with that she was out the door and gone. DAMN!

Oh well. I grabbed the tweezers and gently reached up each nostril to carefully slide out the soggy, booga-soaked ear-bud fluff. I opened the fridge and took out a huge bottle of soft-drink, unscrewed the lid and put the bottle up to my mouth, gulp gulp gulp gulp, when …

“Oh, and Sam … ”

“ARGH!” I spluttered, turning so fast that the bottle suddenly yanked out of my mouth, fizzy soft-drink instantly flew up one nostril and shot out the other like a fire hose, spilling the sticky drink all the way down the front of my school uniform.

“Yeah, Mum?”

There was Mum’s head sticking around the corner of the front door, still chewing on toast.

“… you didn’t sound very well before. I was about to see if you needed to stay home today. But I see you’re drinking soft-drink, and your voice sounds much better so you’re obviously feeling fine. Make sure you clean up the kitchen before you go to school. ”

“Yes, Mum.”

GREAT! I couldn’t believe it! Jared was going to have so much fun bludging all day, the lucky bugga, and I was going to be stuck at school … alone!

Yep! That was the start of the SUCKIEST week in history. Well actually, I guess it really started the moment after he was sent home from school.

Thanks a lot Jared … NOT!

So here is what happened in every single detail of the suckiest week ever …