Agatha Parrot and the Mushroom Boy by Poskitt Kjartan Page B

it is to have car insurance.
    â€˜He’s not turning it over Dad,’ I said. ‘It’ll be too late now.’
    â€˜JAMES. Turn it over.’
    But the TV just went on to talk about a sort of shampoo that makesmen give flowers to ladies.
    â€˜JAMES,’ shouted Dad. ‘You can watch football in two minutes IF Agatha can watch her programme NOW . Otherwise I’ll empty my ELECTRIC SHAVER out all over your pillow and you’ll scratch yourself to DEATH in your sleep tonight. And I mean it.’
    The TV went off then James shouted through from the living room, ‘Here then you BIG BABY.’ Without looking he hurled the remote in through the kitchen door.
    OW! It cracked me right on the head.

    Dad was so busy admiring how shiny the mixing bowl was that he didn’t see what happened and so I didn’t bother telling him. He’d only havecome up with one of his silly made-up punishments. And besides, I knew I’d missed the end of the programme.
    Thunk thunk thunk . . . creak . . . SLAM!
    James had run upstairs and shut himself in his bedroom. How pathetic. He should have known that he can run but he can’t hide from Agatha. He knew that he’d been a bully with the remote and thereforehe was going to suffer. Oh yes he was indeed.
Sounds of dramatic music: Dah-dah-dahhhhh!
    (Read that last bit again out loud. Oh go on, don’t be a wimp, you know you want to. This is the bit I mean:
    Sounds of dramatic music: Dah-dah-dahhhhh!
    If you’re in your classroom having quiet reading time and you just did that nice and LOUD then you’re awesome. Wahoo! Right, on with the next chapter, although the time has only moved forwards by about twenty seconds . . .)
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Twenty Seconds Later
    I was in the living room pulling all the cushions off the sofa and the armchairs. The idea was to make Dad come in and ask me what the matter was but he didn’t, so I had to make some sad little sighingnoises too. Dad still didn’t come in, so I had to make the sad little sighing noises louder and louder until they sounded like this: HOOOOOO-NAH. Yes I know that sounds more like a hippopotamus but at least it worked because at last Dad stuck his head in through the doorway.
    â€˜What’s going on?’ he said. ‘I thought you wanted to watch your programme.’

    â€˜I do,’ I said all sweet and innocent. ‘But I don’t know where James has hidden the remote. Oh well . . .’
dejected sigh
‘. . . it’ll all be finished now. I’ll just have to watch the repeat on Monday. Or the backstage special on Tuesday or the highlights programme on Friday.’
    Dad started picking up the cushions, feeling them for remote control-sized bumps, and then chucking them back. ‘It’s no good,’he said. ‘I want to watch the film later. Where is that remote? James? JAMES?’
    Upstairs James’s bedroom door creaked open, and soon he was back down in the living room getting a good grilling. ‘I passed it to Agatha,’ he protested.
    â€˜But I was in the kitchen,’ I said. ‘How could you pass it to me unless you had the longest arms in the world?’
    James was not looking happy at all.‘Well, I sort of passed it,’ he said. ‘It’ll be in there somewhere.’
    â€˜Then get it now please,’ said Dad, and then he sat down in the armchair and opened his newspaper in front of his face in a daddish sort of way.

    James went into the kitchen. He looked along the worktop, he looked under the table. Tee hee, no chance! He opened the fridge and looked inside, then he got the lidoff the rubbish bin and poked around in that. Ha ha ha! Of course I was only having a secret inside-my-head laugh. All James could see was me standing by the door looking serious.
    â€˜What did you do with it?’ he demanded.
    â€˜You mean the remote? Don’t ask me. You’re the one who had it.’
    â€˜You should