Lick'd. Susan Berran

grass to chew on for the day.

      Four minutes to the bell; Jared and I open up our ammO bags and lay the pellets out on the ground ready for quick reloading. We check the springs … and wait.

       Ding ding ding!!!

      Here they come! The mad dash of bodies racing to the toilets as the bell rings. Their arms and legs flapping about. All trying to get ahead of each other so as not to be last into the toilet.

      We lifted our small but deadly loaded pooper-shooters and took careful aim … ppttt ppttt ppttt … ppttt ppttt ppttt … Bullseye!!

      Booga Boris stopped dead in his tracks. He looked up and around into the trees above him as he picked a splattered pellet off the back of his neck. He studied the glob closely. We could see him stretching it in and out between his finger and thumb, trying to work out what it was. He sniffed at it twice, then touched it delicately to his tongue. Looked at it again, sniffed it, then he threw it into his mouth and with one crunch it was gone … eewww!!!

      I thought my stomach was going to burst all over Jared like a water balloon full of runny porridge. I had to put both hands tightly over my mouth to hold in the laughter … and last night’s dinner. I looked across to Jared. He too had both hands locked solidly over his mouth and tears of laughter rolling down his puffed-up cheeks. I thought he’d give us away for sure.

      Booga then disappeared into the toilet, still looking completely puzzled. Although for him that was pretty normal.

      We reloaded …

      … ppttt ppttt ppttt … ppttt ppttt ppttt

      … missed … reload …

      … ppttt ppttt ppttt … ppttt ppttt ppttt

      … Yes, a direct hit!!

      We got Dopey Sophie; she was Crabby’s personal suck up.

      “ Eeeeeeee, something bit me! ” she squealed. Then she started to spin faster than a hamster in a runaway wheel as her squeals started to break the sound barrier … and our eardrums. Everyone around her was shoving their hands over their ears while Dopey kept slapping at the back of her neck and spinning around faster and faster. Finally she picked out a piece from her hair and put it up to her face … “ Eeeewww pooohhhh!!! ”

      She was hopping around like a flea on a hot plate. We couldn’t hold it in any longer, we both cracked up laughing. The tears poured down our cheeks, making it hard to see. It was time to sneak out of our hidey-hole and get to class. We left our WEAPONS under there so that we could come back for another go at lunchtime.

      Poking our heads right down, we started to crawl through the dirt and out from under the bush, snickering all the way. Just as we began to emerge into the light, I noticed someone had left their shoes there … their nice clean shoes

      … their nice clean shoes with legs … their nice clean shoes with big hairy legs in them … big, bulging hairy legs and one foot tapping so hard that the dust was flying up.

      Our laughter was stopped dead. And as we raised our eyes they were met with the staring bloodshot eyes and vein throbbing fire-engine red face of Mrs Duckson.

      My office, NOW!! echoed through my head as we shuffled off with the sound of Dopey’s shrieking still ringing in our ears. As we sat outside the office, we only heard parts of the phone conversations with our mums. But it all added up to the same thing, detention! Which we’d be seeing quite a bit of, as Mrs Duckson put it.

      Later that afternoon, we sat in the classroom alone and bored to death. We were staring out the window when we saw the strangest thing; apart from TOFFEE THOMAS doing ballet, which was also a really weird and disturbing sight to see. A group of animals were wandering up the road. Heaps of them all together and they seemed to know exactly where they were going. But these weren’t the local cows and sheep taking a stroll. It was the pets that all the kids had got from the little pet shop on the side of the road and Fluff Butt was in the lead. Jared stretched his neck to get a better look. “Hey, I think that’s our guinea pigs,” he whispered as he watched them scrambling in and around the legs of the other animals. Where were they going?

      We watched the clock tick over every single second. I’m sure Mrs Duckson sabotaged it to run slow. Until finally, the clock struck five. We leapt out of our seats, out the door and straight onto our bikes to take off after the animals. But they’d already disappeared well out of sight.

      The moment I got home, I raced all around the house looking for Fluff Butt.

      “Mum … I saw …”

       “You’re in big trouble mister!”

      “Yeah I know but …”

       “I thought we talked about this?”

      “Yes but …”

       “You’d better pull up your socks!”

      “I know, but …”

      “You’re grounded … again! ”

      “Yes Mum.”

      It was no use. It looked as if Jared and I would have to find out for ourselves what was going on.

      For the rest of the week we watched and kept notes, but there seemed to be no pattern. Some days they went by, others they didn’t. We knew each and every animal and which kid it belonged to. They couldn’t have been going very far either because they’d always get home before us. But when it came to the weekends, they just lazed around like they were at some really posh ‘all expenses paid’ holiday resort or something. Lying back with their legs in the air waiting for someone to bring their food to them or wipe their butt. As if we’re their servants. It was really weird and really annoying.

      Jared reckons they’re probably getting together to discuss how to get rid of all the cows. Probably because they’re so sick and tired of stepping in the warm, sloppy cow poop all the time … just like us. Or maybe they were just discussing how incredibly stupid and thick-headed the sheep are.

      I sometimes think Jared was a sheep in a former life.