“CGI …” said Libby, nodding in agreement, but in a way that suggested that she could barely be bothered to nod.
“What does that one mean?” said Grandpa.
“Crazy Gagging for It …”
“Right you are.”
“And so he ran right up to the cage. The one with all the chimpanzees in it. And the chimpanzees were all rolling about and swinging from ropes and jumping through tyres and chasing each other along the tree trunks …”
“Sounds great!” said Grandpa.
“Can I eat them?” said Bert.
“And Malcolm loved it all. He was so happy. He loved it so much, in fact, that he started clapping.”
At this point, Jackie paused, and looked a bit troubled.
“Yes,” said Grandpa. “Then what happened? Don’t stop there: INTK!”10
“Well …” said Jackie, “when Malcolm clapped, all the chimpanzees stopped what they were doing. And then one of the biggest ones … the dominant male, I think …”
“Louie,” said Stewart, helpfully. “That was his name. I remember reading it on the little placard outside the cage. They’d got him from a zoo in Frankfurt.”
“Yes, all right, Louie … He …” For a moment, it looked like Jackie was going to cry. Stewart came over and put his arm round her; Libby yawned; Bert found a piece of fluff on the floor and put it in his mouth.
“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to, darling,” said Stewart.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.” She took a deep breath. “Louie picked up some of his … poo. From the floor. And threw it in Malcolm’s face.”
Grandpa nodded, with a very serious expression.
Then he nodded some more, making his face even more serious.
Then … he started laughing.
“Grandpa!” said Stewart.
“Sorry, but …” He couldn’t carry on the sentence. He started gulping for breath in between the laughs.
“The monkey plop splattered on the bars of the cage,” said Jackie. “But that didn’t stop him getting it all over his face. It’s not funny! It was awful!”
Grandpa carried on laughing. Then Stewart started. Then Bert joined in, while also repeatedly pressing the monkey icon on AnimalSFX on Stewart’s phone to create the sound of a chattering monkey. Even Libby stopped looking bored and started smiling.
“Stop it! Why are you all laughing?!” said Jackie. “And then – and then – all the other chimps joined in!”
“AHHAHAHAHA!!”
That was everybody else, laughing.
“LOLT27!!”
“Stop it!” said Jackie. “They all looked round – twenty chimps – and they all picked up bits of poo – and all threw it at the same time at Malcolm! It was like a huge battalion of medieval soldiers catapulting cannonballs at a castle! Except it wasn’t medieval soldiers, it was monkeys! And it wasn’t a castle, it was Malcolm’s face! And it wasn’t cannonballs, it was … AHHHHHAHAHAHA …!!!”
That, unfortunately, was Jackie. Joining in with the laughter.
“… poo …!!” she finally finished.
“AHHHHHAHAHAHA!!!”
“It was poo!” she said again, irrelevantly, to be honest. “Monkey droppings! Chimp plop! Planet of the Apes poo-poo! AHHHHHAHAHAHA!!”
“AHHHAHAHAHA!!”
That was everyone else.
“So … having a nice time?” That was Malcolm.
Everyone looked round.
Malcolm was standing at the door to the living room, with his arms crossed.
The rest of the family fell silent.
For almost twelve seconds.
Then they all started laughing again. In that way that people do when they’re trying not to, laughter bursting out of them like jets of air from an overfull balloon that someone is releasing, then pinching closed, and then releasing again. It’s made worse, that type of laughter, if you’re the object of it, because it sounds like the people laughing are not just laughing at you, but blowing raspberries as well.
“BRRRR! HAHAHA!! HAHAHA! BRRRR! AHHAHAHAHA!!!” went Malcolm’s family.
Chatter chatter chatter scream scream scream! went AnimalSFX in Bert’s hand.
Malcolm shook his head, raised his eyes to heaven and turned to go back to his bedroom.
“Hang on, Malcolm,” said Stewart. “Sorry sorry sorry! We’re all really sorry! Aren’t we?”
“Yes!” said Jackie.
“Yes!” said Grandpa.
“STTM …”11 said Libby.
“Can I eat sorry?” said Bert.
“But look …” said Stewart. “If it helps … we do have one more present.”
“Is it a chinchilla hat?” said Malcolm, not turning round. “A chinchilla key-ring? Tickets to Chin-Chinenney Chin-Chinenney Chin-Chin Chilla!: The Musical?”
“No!”
“It’s got nothing to do with chinchillas at all …?”
“Nothing.”
Slowly, Malcolm turned round. He looked at his father suspiciously.
“All right then,” he said.
Stewart walked over to Malcolm, then took something out of his pocket and handed it over.
The last present.
It was slim: perhaps some kind of card, wrapped up in the candles paper.
Aha! thought Malcolm. A voucher! I can use that to buy the Apache 321!
“Oh, thanks, Dad!” he said, as his fingers took off the Sellotape on the back. “And Mum! Sorry, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful about the chinchilla! Can we go to the shops today with the vouch—”
Malcolm stopped speaking, as the word vouch ended on his lips, never to be added to with an er. He frowned, looking at the piece of card, on which were many, many pictures of animals.
For the second time that day, Malcolm looked up in confusion at his beaming parents.
“It’s a card! That we all made together!” said Libby. “BT!”12
“Oh … that’s nice …”
“Look inside,” said Jackie. “We saved up!”
Malcolm looked inside. There were more pictures of animals, plus the words, “Happy Birthday!”
There was also a piece of paper, folded up. Ah, he thought, the voucher. Right.
Malcolm unfolded the piece of paper.
It wasn’t a voucher.