My Brother's Famous Bottom Gets Pinched

by Jeremy Strong

  At last we stopped. We pulled off our helmets. I looked around but I couldn’t see any sign of the tour bus or people. We seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

  ‘This is where the last sighting was,’ Lancelot murmured. ‘A mate said he passed it here only half an hour ago. It’s time for Rubbish to do her stuff.’

  We got the goat out of the sidecar and held some of the twins’ clothes up to her nose. ‘How will she know what to do?’ I asked.

  ‘You’re going to tell her. She’s your goat, Nick. She knows your voice best. When you’re milking her you talk to her all the time, I know. Just tell her what you want her to do – and keep your fingers crossed.’

  I bent down and spoke quietly into one of Rubbish’s big, hairy ears. ‘Find Cheese and Tomato. This is what they smell like. We must find them, Rubbish. Go and find them – now.’

  I stood back. Rubbish looked at me, turned round and took two steps backwards so she was standing on my feet and pushed her rear at me, slapping me with her tail. I looked glumly across at Lancelot and Granny.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Granny.

  ‘She wants to be milked,’ I said hopelessly. ‘She always does that backing movement and whisking her tail when she needs milking.’

  ‘Best milk her then,’ said Lancelot.

  ‘Did you bring a bucket?’

  Lancelot slapped his forehead crossly. ‘I thought I was being pretty clever bringing the goat. I never thought I’d need a milking bucket as well.’

  ‘She has to be milked into something. She’ll have a fit if she sees me squirting it all over the ground.’

  Granny silently handed me her crash hat.

  Fifteen minutes later we set off, with Granny gingerly carrying a helmet full of goat’s milk. She couldn’t bear to throw it away. ‘The crash hat will be all right after a good wash,’ she said hopefully.

  ‘You deserve a medal, babe,’ grinned Lancelot. ‘A medal for services to goats.’

  ‘Hurry up, you two,’ I called to them. ‘Rubbish is on to something’.

  Rubbish had picked up speed and was almost galloping across a field, straight towards a group of old farm buildings. Sure enough, we shortly spotted the tour bus, carefully parked between the buildings so that it was almost completely hidden

  away. I grabbed Rubbish and told her to keep still. Lancelot was right beside me. We had to wait while Granny caught up. She couldn’t run fast because she was busy trying not to let the goat’s milk spill out of her helmet.

  ‘Get rid of it, before it turns to yoghurt,’ hissed Lancelot, but she shook her head defiantly and clutched the crash hat closer to her chest.

  ‘I can’t bear to. It’s such a waste.’

  We peered round the corner of a building at the bus. There was no sign of anyone on board. The giant babies had probably taken their prisoners off to one of the other buildings.

  ‘Everything’s falling to pieces,’ I whispered to Lancelot.

  ‘Must be an abandoned farm,’ he muttered back.

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘We need to work out which one of these buildings they’re in.’

  ‘It’s that one,’ Granny interrupted. She pointed across the mucky yard to what looked like a large garage, but could have been almost anything.

  ‘How do you know?’ I asked.

  ‘Because there are voices coming from it. Listen.’

  Lancelot and I strained our ears. Every so often, if the wind was in the right direction and we stretched out our ears by pulling them with our fingers, a faint sound reached us that could have been someone talking. Granny was right!

  ‘How can you possibly hear that?’ I asked.

  ‘You’re supposed to be half deaf!’

  ‘I know, dear, and I am, but as you get older your ears play funny tricks on you, and sometimes you become very sensitive to sound in a way that ordinary people aren’t.’

  Lancelot shook his head in admiration. ‘That’s my babe! You just got yourself another medal! Come on, keep low and don’t make a sound. Nick, you’re in charge of the goat. She’s our secret weapon – if we need one.’

  ‘She won’t get hurt, will she?’

  ‘No, but she might well hurt one of those giant babies.’ He stopped for a second and frowned. ‘Are you sure they’re giant babies? I know you keep calling them that but it does seem odd, Nick.’

  I nodded grimly. ‘Giant babies, you’ll see.’

  And he did, because when we reached the shed and peered in through a dirty window, we were met with an unexpected and astonishing sight.

  9 Chaaaarge!

  It was a classroom. At least that’s what it looked like. A few tables had been placed in a row, like desks. Hanging on the wall in front of the desks was a white screen. A PowerPoint display was on show. Obviously there was some kind of lesson going on. Who were the pupils? Guess!

  Mum, Dad, Cheese and Tomato, and David

  Dumper. Who was the teacher? Guess again!

  It’s a bit of a trick question because there were three teachers. Exactly. You’ve got it. The giant babies, still in their nappies and T-shirts.

  Outside the window Granny’s eyes boggled. ‘What is going on?’

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t care,’ Lancelot answered. ‘It’s time to rescue everyone.’

  ‘What’s the plan, dear?’ asked Granny.

  ‘It’s quite simple. We burst in, surprise them and take over. I’ll nobble the biggest baby and Nicholas can set Rubbish on the middle one and you go for the woman. We have the element of surprise on our side. My guess is they’ll give up without much of a struggle.’

  ‘Suppose they don’t?’ Granny asked and Lancelot frowned back at her.

  ‘They will,’ he insisted. ‘Now, on the count of three. One, two, three – CHAAAARGE!’

  We burst through the door. Instant chaos! Lancelot hurled himself at the biggest baby and floored him with a rugby tackle. Rubbish and I cornered the other man, with Rubbish doing her best ever impression of a snarling guard dog. It might even have been a bloodhound. As for Granny, she hurried up to the lady baby as fast as she could. For a brief moment they eyeballed each other, then Granny lifted her crash hat and tipped the contents all over her. The lady baby collapsed in a puddle of goat’s milk and burst into tears.

  ‘Poo pants!’ laughed Tomato, pointing at the baby on the floor.

  I turned and grinned triumphantly at Mum, Dad and the others. They didn’t look the least bit impressed. In fact they looked almost angry. No, not almost angry. They were angry! Mr Dumper rose from behind his desk, red-faced and wagging a finger at us.

  ‘Do you mind not interrupting? We’d just got to an interesting bit.’ He glanced at the screen. I could see a picture of a grubby white mountain. I could see it wasn’t a proper mountain, not a rocky one. It was a mountain of… nappies!

  Now it was Mum who was eyeing us sternly. ‘Did you know this country throws away more than eight million nappies every day?’

  Well actually yes, I did.

  ‘Did you know it takes five hundred years for each of those nappies to decompose?’ demanded Dad. Well actually, yes, I did. In fact I’d only spoken to him about it the day before. Sometimes parents can be very forgetful. Mr Dumper had more to say.

  ‘Did you know that every disposable nappy is made from one cup of oil? So that makes eight million cups of oil every day, just for this country, let alone the rest of the world. I have never heard of such waste!’

  What? Mr Dumper, the disposable-nappy maker, was lecturing me! I wasn’t having that. It wasn’t fair. I cleared my throat.

  ‘But, Mr Dumper, you’re the one who makes disposable pants.’

  He shook his head violently. ‘Not any more, I don’t. Thanks to Biff and Chip here I have discovered things about throwaway nappies that I never knew before. I am going to stop production.’

  ‘Good for you,’ said Mum. ‘Lancelot, would you take your big biker’s boot off Kipper’s stomach and
help him up? Thank you.’

  My head was spinning. What was going on? First of all my family gets kidnapped by giant babies and now they all seem to be best friends. Not only that, but Mr Dumper was going to stop making disposable pants. So he wouldn’t be advertising them any more. So there’d be no more shows. So he wouldn’t need Cheese any more. Or us.

  It felt like a huge hole had opened beneath my feet and I was falling fast.

  10 Kristal Brings Good Fortune

  We’re back at the hotel. We came back on the tour bus, apart from Granny and Lancelot, of course. They were on the bike. Rubbish was with us. She liked the tour bus. I guess it’ll be our last night of luxury. Granny and Lancelot are here too, although they almost didn’t get in. The hotel were a bit sniffy about allowing what looked like two Hell’s Angels to book in, even if they were old-age pensioners.

  ‘I promise we won’t trash your hotel,’ Lancelot told the receptionist. ‘I gave up doing that last year.’

  ‘He’s teasing you, dear,’ Granny said reassuringly, as a look of panic crossed the poor woman’s face. ‘Now then, we shall need a bit of straw for the goat.’

  The receptionist had a sudden fit of choking. ‘Goat?’ she eventually managed to splutter.

  ‘Yes, dear. Her name’s Rubbish. I’ll sign her in if you like. She can’t write yet.’

  There was no blood left in the receptionist’s face. It had all run away in horror. ‘I’m very sorry, madam. We don’t allow animals in the hotel.’

  I know it was a horrible thing for me to do because I already felt very sorry for the poor woman, but I couldn’t let this go. ‘Excuse me, you’ve got four dogs staying here. They were barking most of the night. Rubbish doesn’t bark. She’s a quiet goat, almost silent.’

  Rubbish, the almost silent goat, chose that moment to start eating the Visitors’ Book lying on top of the reception desk. The receptionist tried

  to pull it from her and Rubbish bleated loudly. Everyone in the room stared at her.

  ‘I’m sorry but we can’t take a goat.’

  Mr Dumper stepped in. ‘We’ve had a hard day’ he explained to the manager, who had now joined the receptionist at the desk. ‘We’ve been kidnapped by giant babies, been given a long lecture on nappy production and been rescued by these…’ Mr Dumper broke off, unsure how he should describe Granny and Lancelot. ‘…by these kind people. Would you please give them a room? The goat’s part of the team.’

  ‘I’m sorry’ said the manager, who evidently did not believe a word Mr Dumper had said. Kidnapped by giant babies? Don’t be ridiculous. I could tell he was thinking exactly that. ‘The hotel doesn’t have guest rooms for goats.’

  ‘She could stay in our bathroom,’ I suggested.

  ‘Good idea, kiddo,’ Lancelot grinned.

  ‘Then it won’t matter if she does a… you know. Not that she will,’ I added hastily. ‘She’s already been.’

  ‘No goats,’ repeated the receptionist.

  The entrance doors swung wide and Kristal Gaze came swanning in with her yappy dogs. She started across the hallway, saw Rubbish and stopped dead in her tracks. She lifted her sunglasses to see more clearly. It was as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. This was it. Kristal came hurrying across to the desk. She was going to make a fuss, and she did.

  ‘Darlings! My prediction has come true!’ She pointed straight at the manager. ‘You’re the Crab, aren’t you?’

  ‘I beg your pardon, madam?’

  ‘You’re the Crab, the zodiac sign – Cancer, the Crab?’

  ‘Madam, you are mistaken. I’m Leo – the Lion.’

  ‘I’m Nellie the Elephant,’ muttered Dad, but I don’t think anyone heard but me.

  The receptionist said that she was born under the sign of Cancer. Kristal was delighted. ‘I knew it. It was in my prediction for Cancer today. “Something hairy will upset you, but ignore it at your peril. It brings you good fortune.” And here you see it,’ she went on, pointing at Rubbish. ‘Something hairy. The goat must stay.’

  ‘But, madam –’ began the manager. Kristal’s eyes turned to hard steel.

  ‘The goat is staying,’ she ordered. The manager took a deep, deep breath.

  ‘Very well,’ he said and turned to his receptionist. ‘Put the goat in the suite with this charming family.’

  ‘What a lady!’ said Mr Dumper admiringly. Kristal Gaze blushed. She did!

  ‘Thank you, kind sir. Are these your babies? They’re so gorgeous!’

  Now it was Mr Dumper who went red. ‘No. No. I’m not married. This is Cheese and here’s Tomato.’

  Kristal’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Cheese! Of course, I should have known. Why you’re famous, young man.’ She turned to Tomato. ‘And you too, young lady. You’re so pretty.’

  Kristal tickled Tomato under her little chin while the rest of us held our breath, waiting for Tomato to say what she always said.

  ‘P… p…,’ she began. Mum gave up and closed her eyes. ‘P… pretty!’ said Tomato.

  ‘Do let me escort you to your room,’ suggested Mr Dumper to Kristal, and off they went,

  leaving the rest of us almost speechless.

  ‘I think Mr Dumper rather likes Kristal Gaze,’ Mum said quietly.

  ‘And I think Kristal Gaze rather likes Mr Dumper,’ added Dad. They looked at each other for a second and then chorused: ‘Ooooh!’

  Rubbish finished making her entry in the Visitors’ Book and spat the remains out on to the desk.

  ‘We’ll pay for a new one,’ Mum offered quickly, before the manager could complain, but he didn’t seem to care any longer. I think he felt that so many awful things had already happened it didn’t matter if there was one more.

  It was good to get to our room. I collapsed into an armchair. I asked Mum and Dad if they were going to report the giant babies to the police. Mum shook her head.

  ‘We’ve already discussed that with Mr Dumper. They didn’t do any harm – just gave us a bit of a shock really. The worst thing they did was leave you behind, and they didn’t mean to do that. They thought you were already on the bus, and once they’d grabbed us they could hardly go back and look for you. The really big shock was finding out about disposable nappies.’

  ‘What’s going to happen to us?’

  ‘Cheese will get paid for this bit of the roadshow and that’ll be it.’ Dad sighed. ‘It’s been good while it lasted, but we always knew it couldn’t go on forever. We’re just as disposable as the nappies.’

  ‘I wish it could have gone on longer.’ It had been such an exciting day and here I was feeling like a wet Monday. I wanted to hide away somewhere dark.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ I announced. And I did. It was only half past six.

  11 New Pants!

  I slept like a log last night. I was so deeply asleep I don’t think I even dreamed. I only woke up because something wet and sloppy was being stuck in my ear – and the something wet and sloppy had a goat attached to the other end of it. It was Rubbish’s tongue.

  ‘Urrrgh!’ Ishuddered, leaping out of bed.

  ‘She’d make an excellent alarm clock,’ said Mum. ‘I wonder if I could get her to do that when you’re late for school.’

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ I warned. ‘She’s my goat and she does what I say.’

  ‘And you’re my son and you do what I say’ Mum parroted. ‘Get dressed double quick and come down for breakfast. Cheese, I can see you in the bathroom. Stop trying to climb inside the toilet. Nick, go and rescue him, will you? Honestly, you need eyes in the back of your head with those two. Where’s Tomato got to now?’

  We got safely down to breakfast eventually. Gran and Lancelot were already there but there was no sign of Mr Dumper.

  ‘Perhaps he overslept,’ said Mum with a smile.

  ‘Maybe he was up late,’ nodded Dad, with a big wink. ‘Look, here he comes now, and guess who he’s with?’

  ‘Kristal Gaze,’ I murmured. ‘She’s weird.’

  �
��Sssh,’ said Mum quickly. ‘Don’t let her hear you, they’re coming over.’

  ‘Good morning all!’ cried Mr Dumper cheerfully. ‘What a wonderful morning it is. Do you know, I am full of beans and bright ideas. In fact I’ve been up half the night, thinking. Do you know what I’m going to do?’

  We shook our heads. I’m not sure why because we did know what he was going to do. He was going to stop making Dumpers and dump us.

  ‘I am going to stop making disposable pants.’ See? I told you.

  ‘Poo pants!’ said Tomato, rather predictably, and it was just what I was thinking. I was getting angry. Everything was poo pants as far as I was concerned.

  Mr Dumper beamed at Tomato and went on. ‘I’m going to stop producing that disposable stuff and I’m going to start making environmentally friendly nappies. I’m going to make real nappies that can be recycled and you know what I’m going to call them? Rainbow Dumpers! Isn’t that great? And do you know why I’m naming them after the rainbow? Because they’re going to be all the colours of the rainbow. Just imagine – nappies in full colour. Rainbow Dumpers are going to be new pants for a new world!’

  ‘Noo pants!’ cried Tomato, clapping both hands above her head.

  Mr Dumper was delighted. ‘Say it again! Go on! New pants.’

  ‘Noo pants!’ gurgled Tomato.

  Mr Dumper turned to Kristal. ‘Isn’t she adorable? You know what, that’s the angle we need for the new advert. We’ll get Tomato on film shouting “Noo pants!” She will be the new face of Rainbow Dumpers. After all, her bottom’s just as good as her brother’s. She has such a cheeky smile!’