Nathalia Buttface and the Embarrassing Camp Catastrophe
Page 17
A grumble from the audience told Nat a different story, but she was feeling too nervous about her presentation to think about it too long.
Because now it was HER TURN!
She stood up and began, looking at Mr Keane for support. He smiled.
Then she looked at Dr Nobel. He smiled too.
Then Rufus walked up and stood by Nat.
“One at a time,” shouted Mr Dewdrop, but the children ignored him.
“We’d like to show you a short film of our week here,” said Nat and Rufus together.
The lights dimmed and Darius began the video. It was made from loads of mobile-phone footage and photos. The video featured children from both schools working together and HAVING FUN.
The video had been skilfully edited to avoid some of Nat’s most embarrassing escapades, although the backwards-horse-riding got a big laugh and Dad looked like a spanner in his silly hat.
When the lights came up, all the pupils and teachers were standing at the front of the hall. Together.
“Most irregular,” said Mr Dewdrop.
“No, I’ll allow it,” said the mayor, who was acting like a judge in a big trial on TV. “I want to see where they’re going with this.”
Mr Keane walked forward. “Geography isn’t about rocks and weather fronts and – heaven help us – longshore flipping drift,” he said. “Geography is about people and how they live. It’s about nature and our world. And it teaches us about not making things worse and how to make things better, that’s all. And I’m really sorry if I forgot that somewhere along the way.”
Dr Nobel put a kindly hand on his shoulder. “Today, too many neighbours are fighting, because they can’t share land and they can’t share resources.”
“It seemed to us that they’re giving geography a bad name,” said Miss Hunny.
“That, and the fact that a lot of geography at school is dead boring,” said Rufus.
“So we decided that the schools shouldn’t fight either,” said Misses Eyre and Austen.
“And we thought the very best way to celebrate our planet …” said Plum.
“Was to say ‘bum’ to the stupid competition,” said Penny.
“And to present today a JOINT project,” said Mr Rainbow.
The men from the Nice ’N’ Neat Countryside Alliance looked unhappy.
But the audience from the town clapped and cheered.
When it was silent again, Nat reached into a box and took out what looked like a tiny rock.
“With both schools working together, this is what we achieved,” she said. “This is the head of what we believe to be a brand-new dinosaur, found this week, right here in the cliffs of Lower Snot— er, Totley. It’ll be sent to the Natural History Museum to be checked. It could be a major find.”
There was applause.
“But who ACTUALLY found it?” said Mr Dewdrop. “WHO?”
Everyone ignored him.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Dr Nobel, “it was a team effort.”
“This morning we’re talking about living together and SHARING,” said Mr Keane.
“And working WITH each other,” said Sky.
“And looking after the world,” said Professor Paradise, jumping up and joining in. “Yes! Get in! YOU TELL ’EM!”
“And having some FUN!” shouted Mr Keane. “This is a fun world. Anyone remember FUN around here?”
The audience cheered and clapped.
“I think you may have forgotten,” said Sky over the sounds of drumming, coming from outside and getting closer. “Let’s go outside. I want to show you all something.”
She led everyone outside, to where an amazing sight was marching up the high street towards them.
After five long years, the carnival was back in Lower Totley.
“With our lovely lady mayor’s permission, we organised this carnival,” said Sky. “You see, we might have forgotten fun, but our neighbouring towns haven’t. And they’ve brought some people along to help us remember! So, let’s welcome:
“The Giants from Upper Totley!
“The Mad Morris Maniacs of Melton Swingely!
“The Carnival Queen OAP Belly Dance Troupe from Longham Market!
“The Barmy Bongo Drums of Bolton-on-Hassock!
“The Twirly Majorettes from Spong!
“And the Fire-breathers from Much-Farting-on-the-Marsh!”
The carnival procession, with all its music and streamers and bunting and costumes, swept by, picking up volume and townspeople as it went.
“YOU’RE RUINING EVERYTHING,” yelled Mr Dewdrop, hopping about with the other grey people from the Nice ’N’ Neat Countryside Alliance. “You’re just going to make a mess.”
He was bonked on the head by an Upper Totley giant.
“Mr Bungee, stop them,” Mr Dewdrop yelled, “or we won’t book your camp for our competition again.”
But when Nat turned to look, it was as if Mr Bungee had gone mad.
“I don’t care,” he yelled. “We’re closing the camp. We don’t like you. We don’t even like kids.”
“Then why’ve you been a kids’ camp leader?” asked Dr Nobel, who looked angry.
“How many jobs do you know where you can walk around all day playing in the mud and making camp?” said Mr Bungee, swaying in the breeze. “But now we’ve discovered gold on our site. Gold, I say! So all you kids and you teachers, you can all … get lost.”
He held out a chunk of rock. Bits of it glittered.
Nat looked at Darius. “I recognise that,” she said.
Darius looked blank.
Mr Bungee skipped with joy. “We blew up half the hillside yesterday when we discovered it, and there’s tons of the stuff. HA!”
“It’s true,” said Mrs Ferret. “We’re turning the eco camp into the largest open-face gold mine in the country.”
“That’s not very eco,” said Dad, dodging a drum majorette.
“I’m fed up of eco, you big Green Bogey,” shouted Mrs Ferret, whose voice was slurry. “I’m fed up of everything being made of wood and string, and food tasting of soil, and having to dig our own loos! I’m going to build a big tower block made of gold and I’ll live at the very top, looking down on the rest of you.”
Then she started dancing with Mr Bungee.
Nat watched the performance open-mouthed.
Darius and Sky, standing next to her, looked less surprised for some reason.
“Do you know,” said Professor Paradise, coming up to them, “why scientists think the zombie-frog is called the zombie-frog?”
“Course I don’t,” said Nat. “I got twelve per cent in my last biology test.” Then she looked at Mr Bungee again and thought a bit harder. “Hmm,” she said.
Professor Paradise smiled a slow smile. “It’s because the juice from a squeezed frog is extremely alcoholic. One drop of it in, say, a glass of delicious orange juice, will make the drinker extremely drunk – and make them act like a zombie.”
“Oh, interesting,” said Nat.
“It’s VERY interesting,” said Professor Paradise, watching Mr Bungee and Mrs Ferret do the conga.
Darius shrugged.
Sky shrugged.
The reclusive eco professor looked between them. “I’m not going to ask any more questions,” he said, “but it would be very nice if Cedric was returned to his tank today and he wasn’t squeezed any more.”
He wandered off to join in a spot of morris dancing.
“Darius,” said Nat, “what was actually in your evil orange juice of sneaky doom?”
Darius looked at her. “Do you want me to answer that question?” he said.
“What question?” said Nat.
“I’ve got a tiny question too,” said Penny. “Was it a massive coincidence that someone told Mr Bungee there was gold on his land on the very same day we needed tons of rock shifted so we could find a new fossil?”
“Ooh, I hadn’t thought of that,” said Nat. “Nice one, Penny. You’re not just a prett
y face.”
Penny smiled and gave her friend a hug.
Then they both grabbed Darius, who looked alarmed.
“If we squeezed you really hard,” laughed Nat, “what would we get?”
“I’m not risking it,” said Penny, letting go.
“Why is it,” said Mum, as they watched the noisy, messy, fun carnival parade trundle down the high street, “that anything and everything your dad touches ends in some kind of total chaos?”
“Because he’s the Green Bogey,” laughed Sky. “Hadn’t you heard?”
“Very true,” said Dad.
“Sorry I’ve ruined your new career,” said Nat. “I think you’ll be getting a terrible report.”
“I think Mr Dewdrop should be more worried about his silly organisation’s future,” laughed Sky.
“Besides, the world’s a better place without your father working with criminals,” said Mum. “Darius is bad enough.”
“Thanks,” said Darius, from somewhere.
“He has got a job today though,” said Sky. “I wasn’t kidding about the Green Bogey – it’s just what the carnival needs. And the mayor wants you. Do well, and she’ll write you all the Approved for Kids certificates you need.”
“What do I do?”
“Lead the parade,” said Sky.
“Winner,” said Dad.
Nat cringed. She had thought the week was over. But no.
“Remind everyone,” said Mr Keane, “what happens to the Green Bogey at the end?”
“Oh, he’s killed to release his spirit back into the wild,” said Sky. “It’s a very old tradition.”
“Right,” said Dad. “Now, I’m not being ungrateful or anything, but I do have a prior engagement.”
“They don’t kill YOU, silly,” laughed Sky. “They just light a bonfire and chuck something of yours in.”
“Your mother?” said Mum. She looked around. “Joking, obviously.”
“Something like … my green hat?” said Dad, frowning at Mum.
“Exactly like your hat,” said Sky.
“Finally!” said Nat. “Can I chuck in your rotten ukulele too?”
Don’t miss the rest of Nathalia Buttface’s cringe-tastic adventures …
Click on the covers to read more …
About the Author
NIGEL SMITH has been a journalist, busker, TV comedy producer and script writer, winning an award for his BBC 4 radio comedy, Vent. More importantly, he has been – and still is – an embarrassing dad. Much like Nathalia Buttface, his three children are continually mortified by his ill-advised trousers, comedic hats, low-quality jokes, poorly chosen motor vehicles, unique sense of direction and unfortunate ukulele playing. Unlike his hero, Ivor Bumolé, he doesn’t write Christmas cracker jokes for a living. Yet.
This is Nigel’s fifth book about
Nathalia Buttface.
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