by Alex Ratt
Nerf shrugged. ‘I dunno. Flowers?’
‘Yes!’ I said. ‘You’re right—flowers. And?’
‘Um . . . butterflies?’
‘Butterflies—yes! Girls love butterflies. And?’
‘Pretty little fancy things?’ Nerf suggested.
I nodded slowly. Nerf was right: girls liked pretty little fancy things.
‘I can see where we went wrong,’ I said to Nerf. ‘Come on—we need new bottles.’
We went back to the bathroom cabinet. This time, I went straight for the top shelf.
‘Here’s the perfume Dad gave Mum for her birthday,’ I said, reaching for a pretty little fancy bottle.
I tipped the perfume down the sink.
‘And here’s the perfume he gave her for Christmas,’ I said, reaching for a second pretty little fancy bottle.
I tipped that down the sink too.
Back at the table, we started new labels.
We drew flowers and butterflies, using textas I’d never used before, like pink and purple and yellow.
In a burst of inspiration, I even drew a fairy.
When we were finished, we swapped labels.
‘That looks really . . . um . . . pretty, Nerf,’ I said.
‘Yeah, yours too,’ Nerf said. He squinted at it. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, pointing to the fairy.
‘It’s a fairy.’
‘Are you sure it’s not a walrus? Those look like tusks.’
‘They’re the wings,’ I explained.
‘Oh, I see.’
We glued our new labels to the pretty little fancy bottles and took them back upstairs to Brenda.
‘Better,’ she said from behind her mask.
We held our noses and watched from the doorway as she went over to the chemistry set. There, she carefully poured the bubbling pink contents of the biggest flask into our bottles.
‘Now go show Little Ellie that Stinky Street rules!’ she said.
‘Yeah!’ we said.
We went outside, got on our bikes and, each holding a perfume bottle in one hand, set off.
When we got to the corner of Sweet Street, we stopped.
‘We’ll go on foot from here,’ I said.
‘Are you sure about this, Brian?’ Nerf asked nervously.
‘Courage, Nerf,’ I said. ‘Remember: Sweet is no match for Stinky.’
When we were near Little Ellie’s house, I said, ‘You remember the plan? We say these are presents for our grandmothers.’
Little Ellie was out the front of her house with a friend. They were practising tic tacs on their skateboards.
When they saw me and Nerf, they rolled down the driveway to meet us.
‘Hi, Little Ellie,’ I said, acting as if I was surprised to see her.
‘Look,’ said Little Ellie. ‘It’s the Stinky Street boys. What have you got there? A present for your grandmothers?’
Nerf and I looked at each other in amazement. How could she possibly know?
‘Follow my lead,’ I whispered to Nerf. ‘No,’ I said loudly. ‘They’re presents for our girlfriends.’
‘Girlfriends?’ said Nerf. ‘But we don’t have—’ I kicked him. ‘I said to follow my lead,’ I hissed.
‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’ Nerf raised his voice. ‘That’s right. For our girlfriends.’
Little Ellie’s friend made a sound like she was being sick, but Little Ellie frowned at her and she stopped.
‘Really?’ said Little Ellie. ‘I didn’t know you had girlfriends. We must have misjudged you. Can we see the presents?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘I mean, they’re for our girlfriends.’
‘Please?’
Nerf and I exchanged looks. Our plan was working!
‘Well . . . okay,’ I said reluctantly.
Nerf and I held out the bottles. Little Ellie took one and her friend took the other.
‘Perfume!’ said Little Ellie. ‘What a lovely present. Ooh, look—and it’s got such a pretty label.’
‘Yeah,’ said her friend. ‘Mine’s even got a walrus on it.’
‘What does it smell like?’ Little Ellie asked.
‘It’s really, um . . . sweet,’ I said.
‘Can we try some on?’
‘I suppose so.’
Nerf and I exchanged another look. Our plan was totally working!
‘Let’s try it on together,’ Little Ellie said to her friend. ‘On the count of three.’
‘One . . .’ They began to unscrew the lids.
I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling.
‘Two . . .’ They removed the lids.
Nerf was making choking noises as he tried not to laugh.
‘Three!’
In one quick movement, the Sweet Street girls threw the perfume all over us.
‘Argh!’ shouted Nerf. ‘They got me!’
‘I’m covered in it!’ I yelled. ‘It’s so disgustingly, horribly STINKY!’
‘Let’s get out of here!’
As we ran away, I could hear Little Ellie calling after us: ‘SWEET STREET WINS!’
We jumped on our bikes and pedalled hard back to my place. The fumes coming from our hair and clothes were PUTRID.
STINKY STREET LOSES
Brenda was standing out the front when we turned into the driveway.
Flinging our bikes aside, we collapsed onto the grass in front of her.
‘How did you go?’ she said, looking down at us. Then she waved her hand in front of her nose. ‘Ew! You two STINK!’
‘I know,’ I moaned.
But instead of being sympathetic, my sister just glared. ‘What went wrong?’ she demanded.
‘They tricked us!’ I said. ‘Instead of putting the perfume on themselves, they threw it at us.’
Brenda shook her head. ‘I should have known you two doofuses wouldn’t be able to fool someone as wily as Little Ellie.’
‘Hose us down, Brenda,’ I begged.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘But it’s the last time I’m helping you with anything.’
When we were well and truly soaked, she turned off the tap and said, ‘That’s it. Our alliance is over. You two knuckleheads are on your own.’ She went back inside.
As we lay on the ground, wet and shivering, Nerf said, ‘They beat us, Brian.’
‘They did,’ I admitted. ‘This time. But while they may have won that battle, Nerf, they haven’t won the war.’ I sat up and raised my clenched fist in the air.
‘THIS IS NOT THE END OF
STINKY
VERSUS
SWEET!’
To be continued . . .
It had been a bad week.
In the war of STINKY VERSUS SWEET, we had lost battle after battle . . .
On Monday, as we were riding down Stinky Street on our way home from school, we saw Little Ellie standing at the corner of Sweet Street.
She waved to us to stop.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘I got Nerf with the honey and feathers, then you two tried to get me with stinky perfume—let’s call it even and declare a truce.’
‘Really?’ I said. ‘You want a truce?’ I turned to Nerf and raised my eyebrows. It looked like Little Ellie knew when she was beaten.
‘I brought you some lollies as a peace offering,’ she said. She held out a bucket. ‘Take as many as you like.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘That’s very thoughtful.’
Nerf and I plunged our hands into the bucket. (She had said we could take as many as we liked, after all.)
My hands met something thick and sticky. ‘No!’ I shouted.
‘Yuck!’ yelled Nerf.
We pulled our hands out of the bucket to find them coated in strawberry jam.
‘I hope you don’t meet any ants on your way home, stinky boys,’ said Little Ellie. ‘Not with your hands so sweet.’ And she walked away up Sweet Street, laughing.
‘She bluffed us,’ I said to Nerf as we tried to wipe our hands clean on a patch of grass.
‘It was th
e old double-cross,’ he said.
‘Well we’re never falling for that again,’ I vowed.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Nerf. ‘Ants!’
On Tuesday, as we were riding down Stinky Road on our way home from school, we saw Little Ellie standing at the corner of Sweet Street.
‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ she said. ‘But I really do want to call a truce. Lollies?’ She held out the bucket.
‘Ha—no way,’ I said.
‘We’re not falling for that trick again,’ said Nerf.
Little Ellie shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said. Then she stuck her hand into the bucket and pulled out a handful of lollies. ‘Maybe next time.’ And she walked away up Sweet Street.
‘She double bluffed us,’ I said.
‘It was the old double-double-cross,’ said Nerf.
On Wednesday, as we were riding down Stinky Street on our way home from school, we saw Little Ellie standing at the corner of Sweet Street.
‘I’m giving you another chance,’ she said. ‘Lollies?’ She held out the bucket.
I reached out a hand, then pulled it back.
‘What if it’s a triple bluff?’ I said to Nerf.
‘Or a double-double-double-cross?’ said Nerf.
‘Too risky,’ I decided.
‘You boys are just too suspicious for your own good,’ said Little Ellie as she pulled a handful of lollies from the bucket, then walked away up Sweet Street.
‘Tricked again,’ I said angrily.
‘Except it wasn’t a trick,’ Nerf pointed out.
‘Next time,’ I vowed, ‘we won’t get not-tricked.’
On Thursday, as we were riding down Stinky Street on our way home from school, we saw Little Ellie standing at the corner of Sweet Street.
‘I thought that today you might be willing to accept the hand of friendship,’ she said. ‘Would you like some lollies?’
‘Yes!’ I declared.
‘Me too!’ said Nerf.
We plunged our hands into the bucket.
‘Noooooo!’ I cried as my hands hit something moist and oozing.
‘What is it?’ said Nerf as he looked at his oozing hands.
‘You should recognise it, Nerf,’ said Little Ellie. ‘It’s sweet, sweet honey.’
She gave a little wave. ‘Better watch out for bees on your way home,’ she said.
‘A quadruple bluff,’ I said.
‘A triple-double-double-cross,’ said Nerf. ‘Um, Brian, is that a bee?’
On Friday, as we were riding down Stinky Street on our way home from school, we saw Little Ellie standing at the corner of Sweet Street.
‘Let’s just ride straight past,’ Nerf said nervously.
‘No, Nerf,’ I said. ‘Think about it. She’ll be so sure that we won’t dare to put our hands in the bucket again that she’ll think she can not-trick us again. You mark my words: there’ll be lollies in there today.’
‘You’re right,’ said Nerf. ‘We’re finally going to outsmart her. Great logic, Brian.’
‘That’s why they call me Brain,’ I said.
‘Who calls you—?’
‘Come on, Nerf,’ I interrupted him. ‘Let’s get some lollies!’
I marched over to Little Ellie. ‘So,’ I said, ‘have you got some lollies for us today?’
‘As a matter of fact I do,’ she said.
‘Let’s have them then,’ I said.
Little Ellie looked surprised.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked.
I shot a look at Nerf. If Little Ellie had a nasty surprise in the bucket, she would’ve been eager for us to put our hands in. The fact that she was reluctant just proved my theory.
‘I’m sure,’ I said.
‘Me too,’ said Nerf.
‘Well . . . all right.’
Little Ellie held out the bucket.
We stuck our hands in.
‘It’s all wet,’ said Nerf.
‘Hey, this is just water,’ I said.
‘Surprise!’ said Little Ellie.
And she walked away up Sweet Street, whistling.
‘I don’t see what’s so clever about water,’ I said.
‘Um, Brian . . said Nerf.
‘Yes, Nerf?’ I said.
‘Look at your hands.’
I looked. And then I screamed. ‘Arrgh!’
My hands were bright pink.
‘That wasn’t water,’ I fumed. ‘That bucket was full of beetroot juice!’
‘She quadruple-double-double-crossed us,’ said Nerf sadly. ‘Or was it a triple-triple-double-cross?’
‘Whatever it was, Nerf, it was a dirty lowdown sneaky trick,’ I said.
Nerf sighed. ‘She’s too clever for us, Brian,’ he said. ‘It looks like she’s won the war.’
‘No, Nerf,’ I said. ‘I’m not giving up. We are going to play a trick on her that is more dirty, more lowdown and more sneaky than anything she could come up with. A trick so epically stinky that Little Ellie will never dare cross us again.’
‘That sounds great!’ said Nerf. ‘What’s the trick?’
I looked at my bright pink hands and shook my head. ‘I don’t know,’ I said.
On Saturday, Nerf and I held an emergency meeting in my front yard.
‘We have to do something, Nerf,’ I said.
‘I know,’ he said gloomily.
‘We were tricked and bluffed and double-bluffed and double-crossed and double-double-crossed and triple-double-double-crossed.’
‘I know,’ said Nerf. ‘Last week was so terrible I feel like I’ve sunk into a pit of despair.’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘A pit of despair? That sounds bad.’
‘It is bad,’ said Nerf. ‘It’s a deep dark pit and I can’t get out. And it’s filled with despair.’
‘What does despair look like?’ I asked.
‘It looks like strawberry jam and honey and beetroot juice,’ he said.
‘That sounds really, really bad,’ I said.
‘Oh, it is,’ said Nerf. ‘The pit is so deep, and so dark, and so full of—’ He stopped. ‘Why are you smiling, Brian?’
‘I’ll tell you why I’m smiling,’ I said. ‘I have just had a dirty lowdown sneaky idea.’
‘You have?’ said Nerf.
I held up a pink hand. ‘Imagine a deep dark pit, Nerf,’ I said.
‘I already have,’ said Nerf.
‘But this time,’ I said, ‘imagine that the deep dark pit is filled with . . .’ I began to laugh.
‘Yes?’ said Nerf.
‘ STINK!’ I said. And laughed some more.
Nerf looked at me in awe. ‘A deep dark pit filled with stink?’ he said.
‘That’s right—and imagine that stuck in that deep dark pit full of stink is . . . Little Ellie!’
‘Ha ha ha,’ said Nerf. ‘Ha ha ha ha ha. HA HA HA HA HA.’
‘Come on, Nerf,’ I said, standing up. ‘There’s no time to lose. We have to dig a stink pit.’
Nerf stood too. ‘Where?’
I thought for a moment. ‘I’ve got it!’ I said. ‘We’ll dig it in the vacant lot.’
A couple of blocks away from my house on Stinky Avenue was a vacant lot. No one ever used it so it was full of waist-high weeds— which suited my plan perfectly.
Nerf and I took a spade each from the garden shed. Then leaving our bikes behind— it was too hard to carry our spades on them— we walked up the street.
‘Sometimes,’ said Nerf, ‘I think it might be useful to have a basket on my bike. You know—for carrying things.’
‘No, Nerf,’ I said seriously. ‘Believe me: you do not want to be seen with a basket on your bike. There could be nothing worse than having a basket on your bike. Only girls have baskets on their bikes.’
We reached the vacant lot and found a perfect place for the stink pit: right in the middle.
We dug and dug and dug until we were waist-deep in the pit.
Then we climbed out and stood back to admire it. The weeds around it
were so tall that you could hardly even tell it was there.
‘That is a great pit,’ said Nerf.
‘Now all we have to do is fill it with STINK,’ I told him.
After dinner that night I said, ‘I’ll clear up.’
‘Thank you, Brian,’ said Mum.
I scraped the leftover creamy pasta tuna bake into a container and headed outside.
‘Where are you going?’ said Dad.
‘I’m just taking the scraps out to the compost bin,’ I said.
‘I didn’t even know we had a compost bin,’ he said.
Dad was right—we didn’t have a compost bin.
I got on my bike and rode up to the vacant lot. There, I emptied the creamy pasta tuna bake into the pit. I knew it would turn stinky in no time. I imagined Little Ellie sitting in the puddle of tuna bake and began to laugh.
The next day, when Dad was doing the shopping and Mum had taken my sister to soccer, I went around the house with a box, gathering up things to put in the stink pit. By the time I was done I had:
tomato sauce
eggs
yoghurt
apricot jam
shampoo
leftover curried chicken
feta cheese
I balanced the box on my handlebars and rode up to the vacant lot.
Nerf was already there. He had a rucksack filled with tins:
baked beans
spaghetti
dog food
beetroot
cat food
smoked oysters
pineapple
He took out a tin opener. ‘Let’s get to work,’ he said.
He emptied tins and I emptied bottles and jars. It all went into the pit.
Then we each found a long stick and stirred.
‘It smells so stinky,’ said Nerf happily.
‘And it’ll be even stinkier tomorrow,’ I said.
‘I was wondering,’ said Nerf. ‘How are going to get Little Ellie into the pit?’
‘Hmmm, good question,’ I said. ‘If we want her to fall into it, there has to be something really tempting on the far side of the pit. Something a girl would really like.’