‘You’re being annoying.’
‘Maybe so, but the question remains: are you with me, sister?’
‘But…’
‘I said no buts. I don’t know about you, Jessticles, but I can keep this up all day.’
‘Fine.’
‘Say the words.’
‘I’m with you.’
‘…brother.’
‘But you’re not…’
‘Say it.’
‘I’m with you. Brother.’
‘That’s the spirit! Fist bump?’
Jess huffed and whacked me in the arm.
Jess came over every day that week, so we could work on our presentation. My mum seemed to think we were in love or something disgusting like that. She kept making gooey faces and talking in a weird voice – so annoying. But luckily it meant she gave us some privacy, as long as we stayed in the kitchen with the door open. Jess’s mum was “cool with it”, apparently. She and Jess were all about the trust.
With the PALS assembly only days away, we found ourselves counting down with a mix of dread and excitement. It was like waiting for Christmas Day, if Christmas Day involved having to make your way through a jungle of man-eating gorillas to get to your presents.
Each day we felt the pressure weighing on us a little more. We stayed up late into the evenings – or as late as we could get away with before my mum made Jess go home – going through Smilie’s computer files. We were looking for anything else that might help us, but specifically something to do with the meaning of PALS. Unfortunately, almost every file had the word PALS in it a billion times, so it wasn’t until the night before the assembly that we found it.
It was a document Miss Smilie had created: a PALS sign-up sheet. There was a bit at the beginning about how unbelievably brilliant PALS is, followed by this:
‘I hereby give parental consent for my son or daughter(s) to be enrolled onto the PALS scheme, with immediate effect. I will co-operate with the school in any way deemed necessary to help my child progress through the programme and accept the complimentary PALpod to enable my child to continue their work at home. I understand that in signing this form, I have agreed to the terms and conditions.*’
‘It looks harmless, written like that,’ I said.
‘Would you have preferred her to have used a more sinister font? Perhaps giant letters with blood dripping down them?’
‘That would have been super-helpful, actually. I expect you use the font of misery whenever you’re typing stuff up.’
‘Only when I’m typing stuff up about you.’
‘Shush, Jessticles, I’m trying to concentrate,’ I said, reading it through again. ‘So basically, Miss Smilie is going to get the parents of every kid in school to sign their children up for PALS.’
‘And to take home a PALpod which will spark them all…’ Jess’s eyes widened.
‘So they’re just a power-on away from matching smiles and sensible haircuts.’
We looked at each other. This was bad.
‘What’s after that?’ Jess asked.
‘Loads of empty pages for the parents’ signatures and then a page of terms and conditions in teeny tiny writing.’
‘Remember what Miss Fortress said about always reading them?’
‘I remember what happened last time we didn’t read them,’ I said. ‘I’ll get us a snack and then we’ll get started.’
I snuck down to the fridge and pinched a can of my dad’s Red Bull. Yeah, yeah, I know I shouldn’t have and, to be honest, it tasted disgusting so we only had a couple of sips, but that was all we needed. We went back to work.
Jess would tell you we found it at exactly the same time, but I’m pretty sure I got there a second before her.
‘I can’t believe it!’ I said.
‘I know!’ Jess gasped.
‘That’s quite a lie!’
‘It’s an enormous lie!’
‘It’s the Death Star, nay, the Starkiller of lies!’
‘Did you just say “nay”?’ Jess looked at me.
‘Focus, Jessticles,’ I said.
We stared at the screen. It had been in front of us all along, but nobody had noticed.
‘Well, this should get people’s attention,’ Jess said.
I imagined the parents going angry-mob mental on Smilie’s butt.
‘Even better,’ I smiled. ‘This should get people MAD.’
19
Jess Kicks Balls, Bob Slaps Face, And I Embarrass My Mum
It was the final day before half term. Jess and I went to morning registration as usual but snuck away from our classes as they filed down the corridors to the hall for assembly. It was a warm day, so windows and doors were open all over the school and I was starting to sweat.
Jess was carrying Bob in his jar. We’d brought him along because he might come in handy and, anyway, we couldn’t leave him out of the final battle: he was part of the unit.
A grey blur suddenly whizzed past my face and made me jump. It was Dexter. He spoke to Jess for less than a minute and then flew off. I knew something was wrong because he didn’t poo on me.
‘What’s happened?’
‘He came to warn us. Miss Fortress has been told she has to attend the assembly. She can’t risk blowing her cover, so she won’t be able to help us, no matter how bad it gets. Miss Smilie has people out looking for us, so Dexter said we have to find somewhere to lay low until we can get to the main event.’
‘Oh bums! Where’s he gone now?’
‘He’s gone to, erm, round up the boys.’
‘Right.’
We hid in the last place we thought Miss Smilie would look for us: the PALS suite. It was quiet and still, apart from the whirring of the pump in the fish tank. I unpacked my rucksack – ham sandwiches, leftover Red Bull, a puzzle book for Bob and some of those foam earplugs. I thought they’d protect me from sparking. Jess thought I was stupid.
We sat down and took the lid off Bob’s jar so he’d have more air and light. We just had to stay hidden until the assembly was underway. It would only be ten minutes but it felt like hours, jumping at every little sound and hoping we wouldn’t get caught.
‘Is this really the best we can do for a hiding place?’ I said. ‘Perhaps we should climb into a ventilation shaft or something?’
‘Great idea! I’ll get the blueprints out and maybe we can crawl all the way to the hall through a maze of tunnels!’
I sensed that Jess was being sarcastic. ‘You go first then. You’ll be happy in there with nothing but darkness and rats – they’re two of your favourite things.’
‘Well, at least I’ll be able to move around in the shafts. You’ll just get stuck because of your massive head.’
‘Big head, big brain.’ I grinned at her. And the door to the PALS room opened.
‘Arguing again, I see.’ Miss Smilie walked in, with Jason. Wait – what? I couldn’t understand why he was there.
‘Jason, you should go,’ I said. ‘You don’t want to be in here with her.’
‘I’m not going anywhere, Scuzzo. I saw you freaks coming in here, and now I get to watch you suffer.’
‘You told Miss Smilie we were here?’
‘Yeah, I told her.’ He looked really pleased with himself. ‘I’ve been telling her a lot of things lately.’
My first thought was that he’d been PALSified, but there was no moronic smile, no rhyming about the joy of rules and he had a big stain down his sweatshirt where he’d obviously spilt his breakfast. Still, I had to check. ‘Jason, did Miss Smilie do anything weird to your ear?’
‘Oh, Jason hasn’t been modified,’ said Miss Smilie. ‘I decided he’d be more helpful to me as he is. It seems that you’ve been rather getting on his nerves and he was delighted to keep an eye on you for me.’ She turned to Jason, ‘Grab the bag, would you, Jason?’
Jason snatched the bag out of my hand.
‘You’re working with her?’ I looked him right in the eye. ‘But we were best friends. Doesn’t that mean any
thing to you?’
‘We were never best friends. I used to have to put up with your smug face and annoying comments, but thanks to Miss Smilie, I won’t have to anymore.’
I knew Jason was a bit mean, but I’d never suspected he would do something like this. I was hurt. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
We watched as Smilie tipped the contents of our bag onto the floor, getting carpet fluff all over my ham sandwiches.
‘Aha!’ She picked up the PALS memory stick I’d swiped from her office, and peered at the new label I’d made for it.
‘PALS: PREPARE TO MEET YOUR DOOM,’ she read out loud. ‘And what’s this supposed to be? A jelly bean with ears?’
‘That’s the Home Alone cat emoji, obvs,’ I said.
‘Thank you for returning this to me,’ Smilie said, ‘and thank you for labelling it so clearly. You really made it too easy for me. Stupid boy.’
She placed the stick carefully on the floor and stomped on it, grinding it slowly over and over with her heel.
‘Dispose of this litter for me, Jason,’ she said.
Jason grinned as he crouched down and started scraping up the pieces into his hand.
‘Now you have no evidence,’ Smilie said. ‘All of your irritating snooping has been for nothing.’
Smilie was wearing a bright pink tracksuit with her name written across the front in diamonds. Her smile was redder than ever – she looked like a demonic clown. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she opened her mouth to reveal she’d swapped her normal teeth for vampire fangs.
‘That’s funny, Miss Smilie, you’re wearing a tracksuit? I would have thought you’d want to look nice for your fancy assembly.’ Jess was obviously in the mood for a fight. Honestly, there was no stopping that girl once she got carried away.
Miss Smilie just smiled. ‘You, Jessica, are a perfect example of why the world needs PALS. So angry, so defiant. Just like your friend, David. We fixed him, though, didn’t we?’
Jason sniggered and dusted his hands off into the bin.
‘Ruined him, you mean, you psychotic witch.’
Blimey, Jess was really going for it.
‘So your plan is to get all the parents to sign up for PALpods,’ I said. ‘So you can spark every kid in school and then feed them a load of rubbish to make them exactly how you want them to be?’
‘Exactly, Alex. We live in a chaotic world, full of spoiled children who grow into troubled young adults. They have no manners, no discipline, no structure, and they think the world is theirs. It’s time we got some order back, a hierarchy that keeps the power in the hands of those who deserve to wield it. Children should be quiet. Children should obey. I’m working for the greater good.’
‘Oh, I thought you worked for the school, and maybe that Montgomery McMonaghan dude. What the heck is The Crater Hood? Some alien street gang?’
Jess rolled her eyes.
‘Are you trying to be funny, Alex?’ Miss Smilie said. ‘Because we don’t like your kind of funny. Never mind, we can fix that too.’
‘You must be even more evil than I thought if you don’t like bunnies. Everyone likes bunnies.’
‘What on earth are you talking about, stupid boy? Have you gone mad?’
‘Yeah, that’s right, I’m pretty bad. I’m glad you’ve realised.’
‘This is what he does, Miss,’ Jason said. ‘All the time.’
‘Enough of this nonsense. I must get back to my assembly so I can make sure every parent is convinced that joining PALS is essential for their child’s growth and wellbeing. This is just the first stage in the grand plan, the first step towards creating a world of people who are content to do as they’re told. You two are insignificant specks, and we’ve had enough of you delaying us.’
Smilie looked down to unzip her bumbag, which was also pink and also had her name written across it in diamonds.
Jess leaned over and whispered to me, ‘You put those ear plugs in, didn’t you?’
‘Sorry, Jess, I can’t hear you. Got my ear plugs in. That’ll show psycho Smilie.’
When Smilie looked up she was holding a PALpod.
‘Let me show you what we can do for annoying boys with ear troubles, Alex. It will only take a second. It will hurt quite a lot actually, but once it’s over, you’ll be a much happier and more pleasant boy.’
She came towards me with the headphones, the sun through the window making the diamonds on her tracksuit twinkle and reflect rainbows on the walls. I backed into the corner. Jess jumped towards Smilie, but Jason grabbed her arm.
I looked at the earphones in Smilie’s hand. They say that when people are close to death, their life flashes before their eyes. Well, that’s kind of what happened to me. I replayed the past few weeks and realised that even though, when it was happening, I thought it was the worst time of my life, it was actually the best. I’d been challenged every day, in loads of exciting ways; I’d developed new skills and found stuff that I was actually good at; and, for the first time ever I had friends. Not people I hung around with and who hung around with me because we all wanted to be cool and popular, but real, proper, have-a-laugh-with, stand-by-you-and-stand-up-for-you, tell-you-the-truth friends. I wasn’t going to let them down.
As I weighed up how wrong it would be to punch Smilie in the bumbag, a load of things happened at once. Jason started shouting and flapping around.
‘The freak girl’s having another one of those fit thingies! What do I do? What do I do?’
Jess, who was twitching in conversation with Bob, picked up a half-drunk can of Red Bull and poured it into Bob’s jar.
And then Bob did the bravest thing I’d ever seen. All in slow-mo and surrounded by a dazzling rainbow of light and colour, he launched himself out of his jar and flew through the air towards us. He slapped Smilie across the face with a thwack, the light glinting off his scales. Then he disappeared down her tracksuit top.
Smilie screamed, ‘Get it out! Get it out!’ and dropped the PALpod on the floor.
Smilie started slapping at herself where Bob was wriggling around under her clothes. She was trying to unzip her top, which was something I really didn’t want to see.
Jess kicked Jason hard in the boy bits and grabbed my arm.
‘Run, Alex!’ She legged it to the door.
I dodged past Smilie and Jason, who was rolling on the floor, crying.
Miss Smilie pulled Bob out of her top and threw him at the wall. He hit it with a horrible crunch and slid to the floor.
‘What about Bob? We have to go back for him, Jess. He 360 no-scoped Smilie and now he’ll die!’
‘He knew what he was doing. He wanted to help, Alex. It’ll be for nothing if we get caught.’
As we flew out of the PALS suite and towards the school hall, I looked back to see Smilie slip on a ham sandwich and fall over next to Jason.
‘Get a grip, boy, and get after them!’ she shouted at him.
‘I can’t!’ he shouted. ‘You destroyed the evidence anyway, Miss. Everyone will laugh if they tell them what they know without proof.’
‘I don’t care! I want those vile children!’
She jumped up again and started sprinting after us. The hall was far away and I wasn’t sure how we were going to make it. But that was when another amazing thing happened. About a hundred pigeons flew into the building, through every open door and window. They swooped at Smilie in a whirlwind of claws and beaks. They pecked and pooed and flapped in her face – there was nothing she could do to get away from them.
So we ran on, down the corridor, past the IT hub, the cookery room, the library, all the way to the other end of the school where the main hall was full of people.
As we flew into the hall with a hurricane of pigeons behind us, the PALS were onstage performing a song. We went straight to the audio-visual desk and I pulled Miss Fortress’s Thor memory stick out of the little hollow in my hat that Smilie had made when she planted the tracking device inside it. As the files uploaded, I jumped
on the stage at the same moment that Smilie reached the hall.
The parents in the audience started asking what was going on. Some teachers tried to get to the stage but were blocked by the pigeons. The normal kids gasped and the PALS just carried on singing. Honestly: so weird – who would do that?
Jess turned off their backing track and I cleared my throat. I was proper nervous, thinking about how much trouble we could get into for a stunt like this. Possibly prison; possibly exile to a far-off place where we would have to fight polar bears and drink our own wee to survive. The PALS finally stopped singing and every person (and bird) in the room was looking at me. It was too late to wimp out.
‘Hi, everyone. I’m sure you all know me: I’m Alex, Alex Sparrow.’
My mum tried to cover her face with her handbag.
‘I’m here today because you’ve been lied to. Miss Smilie…’ (I pointed her out in case some people didn’t recognise her with pigeon poo on her face) ‘…has been using PALS to control your kids. Want to know how? She uses a scientific procedure which I like to call “sparking” to freeze the parts of the brain related to free will and creative thinking. Then she feeds us music and videos full of subliminal messages to brainwash us. I could tell you a story about muffins which would explain this in a bit more detail, but I don’t have much time now, so ask me after if you especially want to know. My sidekick and I have prepared a short video to demonstrate. That’s right, Miss Smilie, you destroyed a decoy memory stick. Classic mistake. Jessticles: show them the madness.’
As the backmasked music started playing, I could hear people gasp and start to mutter to each other. But here came the big guns. The PALS visuals flickered onto the big screen. We’d slowed them right down so that everyone could see what Bob had shown us. They saw the hidden images. They saw Simon Cowell.
As the room settled into shocked silence, I continued.
‘Now, some of you may be thinking “where’s the harm? If it means little Johnny will do his homework on time and not throw a strop when I won’t let him have a Happy Meal, surely that’s a good thing?” Well I’m here to tell you that it is NOT a good thing.
‘If you take away our freedom of thought, you’ll be depriving the world of a future full of possibility. Sure, you may spare yourself the odd Kanye, but you’ll also sacrifice the Vincent Van Goghs, the Martin Luther Kings, the Florence Nightingales and the Dyson vacuum cleaner men. All people who thought outside the box and did something amazing for the world.
Alex Sparrow and the Really Big Stink Page 13