My Brother's Christmas Bottom--Unwrapped!

by Jeremy Strong

  ‘OK, back to the top and let’s try the next lot,’ suggested Jack, as Cheese and Tomato came back from the costume change. ‘Nicholas, why don’t you and your father come down on toboggans at the same time? I think that will look better.’

  Wow, I was going to be in the photo too!

  You should have seen Dad trying to get on the ski lift! He made such a mess of it. He got his arms and legs completely tangled and ended up draped over the seat like a beach towel, with his legs hanging over one edge and his head and arms hanging over the other. What’s more, all of this was being shown to the audience on the BIG SCREEN. They were almost screaming with laughter as Dad waggled his legs and shouted ‘Help!’ just as if he were in a cartoon. At the top Dad popped Cheese and Tomato on a toboggan. He pushed them off and as he did he stepped back, tripped on the toboggan behind him, sat down heavily on it and the next thing he was going down the slope too, backwards.

  I leaped on to a third toboggan and set off after him, thinking that maybe I could help. The crowd laughed and cheered, while Cheese and Tomato waved and giggled and charmed everyone.

  Meanwhile, behind them, there was a crazy chaotic chase going on. Dad was weaving about all over the place, almost falling off. His toboggan skidded everywhere, knocking over reindeer, trailing little Christmas trees behind it and running over the poor elves.

  I came swooshing behind him, trying to avoid getting clubbed by the reindeer that Dad had sent flying, not to mention assorted elves.

  ‘HELLLPPPPPP!’ went Dad, as he went faster and faster down the slope, just managing to hold on.

  ‘I’ll save you, Dad!’ I yelled, totally hopelessly. I had no idea what I could do. And then a reindeer finally knocked him off. He rolled over and over, right down the ski run, cartwheeling and yelling until –

  BLABBA-DAMMMMM!

  Dad went spinning and crashing straight into the back of Father Christmas. He smashed right through the plastic shell, toppling over the giant Santa so that it ended up rolling gently backwards and forwards in the snow going ‘HO! HO! HO!’ and ‘HELP!’ at the same time, but in two different voices.

  The crowd were on their feet, trying to clap and clutch their sides with laughter at the same time. Someone helped Dad climb out from Santa’s belly. I slid to a halt and joined everyone.

  ‘I feel giddy,’ said Dad, swaying groggily.

  ‘Hey!’ Mr Dumper hurried across to us, waving his arms excitedly. ‘Those last shots were perfect. The twins looked fab and all that crazy stuff going on behind them – you should see the shots! They are brilliant!’

  ‘Was that – “zappy”?’ asked Dad, wearily. Are you happy?’

  Jack Dumper threw an arm round Dad’s shoulders. ‘Ron, I have to tell you that you, YOU are a natural –’

  ‘Clown?’ suggested Mum, from behind.

  ‘I was going to say “performer”, but I guess it’s much the same,’ laughed Jack. ‘Anyhow, that was the best fashion show I have ever seen. Congratulations, everyone.’

  That put a smile on Dad’s face. He stood up taller, lifted his chin and beamed at everyone. ‘I knew that idea of mine would work. All we needed was a bit of zap and those toboggans are the zappiest I’ve come across!’

  10. Mr Tugg Gets RUDE!

  We’ve all been on the news now, not just Cheese. Half the audience at the ski centre were filming the show on their mobile phones when Dad careered down the slope. It was all a bit like a dream, only it was much nicer than that nightmare I had.

  Something even more extraordinary happened to Dad. He got a phone call and he was on the phone for hours. At least it seemed like hours. All we could hear was Dad saying ‘yes’ every so often, or ‘no’. Sometimes he said ‘really?’ in the kind of voice that makes you think something very interesting is being said at the other end of the line.

  By the time Dad put the phone down the whole of the family were listening in at the door – Mum, Cheese, Tomato and me too.

  ‘What on earth was all that about?’ asked Mum.

  Dad smiled, and his smile got bigger and bigger and bigger until his face almost split in half. (I’m glad it didn’t!)

  ‘I’ve got a new job,’ he announced.

  ‘Never!’ cried Mum.

  Dad nodded. ‘It’s true – a new job, at the Ski Centre.’

  ‘THE SKI CENTRE???!!!’ we all shouted. Why would they want to give a job to Dad? He had almost destroyed the place.

  ‘You won’t believe this,’ Dad began. ‘They have asked me to work as a demonstrator to show people how they must not come down the ski slope like I did! I have to show people how NOT to do it! And they’ll pay me too! Apparently I’m famous.’

  ‘You remember those people at the fashion show filming me on their mobile phones? Well, that film of me being an idiot is now a big hit on the Internet. Millions of people have seen it. They want to see more of me. The Ski Centre people reckon I have brought them hundreds of new customers and lots of them want to meet the real me. So there you are – you children have got a famous dad!’ Dad turned and grinned at Mum. ‘And you’ve got a famous husband!’

  Mum looked at him and began shaking. I was a bit worried at first but then I realized she was shaking with laughter. She pointed at Dad – at least she tried to but she was quivering too much.

  ‘Mr Famous! I don’t believe it! But that is wonderful news. I am so proud of you. Now we can have the best Christmas ever.’

  And it was the best Christmas too, although Cheese didn’t get the space ship he wanted. He decided that riding a toboggan was far better than going into space so Dad set about making one for the twins.

  ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ asked Mum.

  ‘Why shouldn’t it be?’ Dad answered, a bit prickly.

  ‘I was just remembering when you made Nicholas a kart.’

  ‘So?’ Dad said, hammering away at the toboggan.

  ‘The wheels fell off as soon as he sat on it,’ Mum reminded him.

  ‘That was because he was so fat,’ sniped Dad.

  ‘Dad! I was NOT fat. I have never been fat.’

  ‘All right, you weren’t fat but you were wearing something very heavy. You must have been. I expect you had an elephant in your pocket. Something like that.’

  Mum and I just looked at him. Dad grinned and put the hammer down. ‘All right. We’ll buy a toboggan,’ he announced. ‘We can now, with the money Mr Dumper paid us. And we’ll get the biggest Christmas tree in the world and we shall have to cut a hole in the ceiling and in the roof too. It will poke all the way up into the sky and have a billion twinkly lights on it and Mr Tugg will complain and we won’t care.’

  ‘What’s that?’ cried Mr Tugg, suddenly poking his shiny head over the garden fence.

  ‘Oh nothing – I was just saying that you are like a little twinkly Christmas light and we all wish you a very happy Christmas, Mr Tugg,’ Dad said cheerfully.

  ‘Hmm, I see,’ muttered Mr Tugg, with a big frown. Honestly, when he gets cross even his bald head frowns. ‘And happy Christmas to you too.’ He turned to go and then came back again. ‘But, I have to say, I really don’t think your little boy should show his bottom like that on television.’

  Mum smiled very sweetly at our neighbour. ‘Mr Tugg, Cheese was one year old when that happened, and it was an accident. It was a very funny accident too.’

  Mr Tugg coughed several times. ‘Yes, well, that’s all very well. It may have been an accident, but it was, hurr–rrumph, (cough cough splutter splutter) RUDE!’

  Mum smiled again. ‘Mr Tugg, that’s why people liked it.’

  Mr Tugg struggled with this amazing idea. ‘Well,’ he huffed. ‘They jolly well shouldn’t. It’s, it’s, it’s – oh PIDDLY-POO!’ he exclaimed, before hastily slapping a hand over his mouth and squeaking with horror. ‘Now you’ve got me being rude!’ He hurried indoors.

  ‘Happy Christmas!’ we shout
ed after him.