Laugh Your Head Off Read online

  ‘You just did it again!’ says Jen. ‘You are definitely a robot.’

  ‘I AM NOT A ROBOT!’ I shout. ‘I AM A HUMAN BEING!’

  ‘If you really are a human being,’ says Dad, ‘then prove it.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘You know all those things I said I couldn’t do because I wasn’t programmed to do them? Well I CAN do them. Look!’

  I reach into the cupboard, pull out the vacuum cleaner, plug it in and start cleaning as fast as I can. ‘See?’ I say. ‘I CAN vacuum the floor!’

  ‘Nice job,’ says Dad. ‘But can you make me a cup of coffee? That is the real test.’

  ‘YES!’ I say, switching off the vacuum cleaner and running to the kitchen. ‘I can vacuum the floor AND I can make you a cup of coffee.’

  ‘Okay,’ says Mum. ‘But can you tell me a fiveletter word beginning with “R” meaning “humanlike machine”?’

  ‘ROBOT!’ I shout from the kitchen ‘See! I can solve crossword puzzles as well!’

  ‘Great,’ says Dad. ‘And can you sort out the washing?’

  ‘Yes, of course!’ I say, running to the laundry basket and pulling out a handful of clothes. ‘Look! This sock goes with this sock! This sock goes with that sock! This skirt goes on Jen’s pile. This shirt goes on my pile. I can vacuum the floor. I can make coffee. I can solve crossword puzzles. I can sort out the washing! I can do ANYTHING a human being can do because I AM a human being!’

  ‘And can you not annoy me ever again?’ says Jen.

  ‘No problem!’ I say.

  ‘And will you clean my bedroom floor?’ says Jen.

  ‘Sure,’ I say.

  ‘With your tongue?’ say Jen.

  ‘You want me to LICK your bedroom floor clean?’ I say.

  ‘Yes, do you have a problem with that?’ says Jen.

  I do have a problem with that.

  A big problem.

  But then I remember the cupboard.

  And the cobwebs. And the talking vacuum cleaner.

  ‘Consider it done,’ I say, walking towards the stairs.

  But as my hand touches the stair rail, I freeze.

  What am I saying?

  I’m going to be nice to Jen and lick her bedroom floor clean?

  What’s happened to me?

  I’m working harder than I’ve ever worked in my whole life.

  This is crazy!

  But what choice do I have? It’s the only way I can prove I’m human. And if I refuse to do it on the grounds that I’m a robot, they’ll put me in the cupboard until I WILL do it.

  I can’t win.

  Unless . . . unless I stop being a human or a robot and become something else . . .

  But what else could I be?

  Hang on, I’ve got it!

  I walk back into the lounge room.

  ‘Mum, Dad, Jen,’ I say, ‘this is probably going to come as a bit of a shock, but there’s something I have to tell you.’

  ‘Yes, Andy,’ says Mum. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I am not a robot OR a human being,’ I say. ‘I am . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ says Dad.

  ‘I am an alien,’ I say.

  ‘An alien?!’ says Dad.

  ‘I knew it!’ says Jen, punching the air. ‘I knew I couldn’t possibly be related to you.’

  ‘It would certainly explain a lot,’ says Mum.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘My name is Andraxon. I have been sent from the planet Andraxia to observe your Earthling culture. My superiors suggested that I spend time watching your cultural information box. I believe you call it a “television”?’

  ‘That is correct, Andraxon,’ says Dad. ‘But I think to really get to know us you need to experience our culture close up. And, luckily for you, you have arrived at a very auspicious time in our calendar. Once a week, here on Earth, we observe a special household ritual known as “rubbish bin night”. Come with me and I’ll show you how it’s done. I’ll even let you help.’

  ‘But . . .’ I say.

  ‘No need to thank me,’ says Dad, taking me by the hand and leading me towards the back door. ‘It’s my pleasure. And after you’ve done that I’ll introduce you to one of our most useful inventions. It will probably seem pretty primitive to an advanced alien life form such as yourself, but I think you’ll find it very interesting and easy to use. We call it a lawnmower . . .’

  I get the feeling this is going to be a very long day.

  I hate school holidays.

  THE

  VERY

  GOOD GET

  by

  Andrew

  Daddo

  He always does it.

  Every time I see him, he’s seen me first. Or he’s heard me, because he’s too busy hiding to actually see me.

  Or if he does see me, he makes sure I don’t see him. And I walk into the house after kissing Grandmarpie hello and start looking for him because I know he’s in there somewhere waiting for me. While I’m looking for him, Grandparpie says he’s usually giggling so hard he’s going to pee himself and then, always at the perfect time, he jumps out of something and says ‘Boo!’ or ‘Yah!’ or some other loud and short noise that just about scares the pants off me.

  It’s happened just about every time we’ve visited Grandparpie and Grandmarpie. Marpie always rolls her eyes and Parpie’s usually rolling around on the floor laughing.

  He’s jumped out of the hall cupboard, from behind every door. He’s levitated up from behind the kitchen sink, poked his head down from the attic ladder and one time, which was when I realised he was taking things to a whole new level, Parpie got Marpie to send me to get my birthday card out of the glove box in the car. He was hiding on the back seat under a blanket and he waited until I was actually in the car looking through all the junk in the glove box before he stuck his head up and said, ‘Looking for something?’ in a very dark, creepy voice.

  I nearly died. Really. I actually couldn’t breathe for a second. I thought he was a robber or a weirdo or worse and my heart was all the way up in my throat and it was throbbing for way longer than it should have been. Parps laughed so hard he cried. When he could breathe again he said, ‘Got ya, didn’t I? Eh? Eh? That’s a good one, eh?’

  I’ve tried to get him, but he’s better at it. He always knows, it’s like he’s always ready for me, so when I yell ‘Yah!’ or ‘Boo!’ or ‘Rah’ at him, he grabs his heart and says, ‘Yers scared me that time, Jensen. That was a good one, he he.’ But I know I’ve never got him. Not the way he gets me.

  Parps has too much game and too much practice and as Marps liked to say, ‘He’s old, Jens, he’s seen everything.’

  So on this visit, I knew I had a whole weekend staying with them. Usually it’s just for dinner or a weekend lunch, but this time Mum and Dad were going away and I got to stay with Marps and Parps for longer.

  Mum dropped me there after school on Friday. The traffic was terrible and it took ages which Mum was happy about because she got to ride me the whole way there about doing the ‘right things and not the wrong things.’

  I must have said ‘Yes, Mum’ a million times.

  ‘“Please” and “thank you” every time. Look Parps in the eye when you shake hands with him or any of his friends and have a nice firm hand, don’t be a wet fish.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘Spend time with Marps, as well. She loves you as much as Parps, it’s just she’s usually busy. If you play cards with her she’ll love you for life.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘Eat whatever’s on your plate.’

  ‘No, Mum.’

  ‘Jensen?’

  ‘Yes, Mum?’

  ‘Eat what they give you, okay? Don’t be picky. Please.’

  ‘Yes, Mum. But nothing green.’

  ‘Jensen?’

  ‘Okay.’ I wouldn’t, but how would she know, anyway?

  ‘And, Jensen, please don’t scare your grandfather.’

  Yes, Mum,’ I said, but my brain was screaming, ‘AS IF!’
r />   ‘He’s been a little bit sick lately, so he’s probably not up for it. He won’t say anything and he’ll pretend like he’s normal, but he’s not. I mean, he’s not normal anyway, is he? But he’ll pretend to be more normal than normal because—oh, just be good, okay? Be a good boy.’

  Yes, Mum.’

  • • •

  Parpie wasn’t there when we arrived. He was out. Yeah, right, I thought. Hiding out, I’ll bet. His car was in the garage so he had to be home. I was ready for him when I walked through the house. I had my hands up karate style, and like a TV cop I only looked where my hands pointed. If something was going to get me, I’d be ready.

  Parps wasn’t behind the front door, or the hallway door. He wasn’t in the hall cupboard, either. He wasn’t in the bathroom or behind the bathroom door and he wasn’t hiding in the laundry cupboard like he was that time Marpie told me to get the vacuum cleaner. He was really, really well hidden this time.

  ‘Bye, Jensen,’ sang Mum as she clomped down the hall. ‘Be good, okay? Please?’ she said, wrapping me up in a hug. ‘We’ll be back Sunday afternoon.’

  ‘Tell me where Parpie is, and I’ll be good,’ I said.

  ‘Marps says he’s not here, but he’ll be home soon. Maybe you should hang with her for a while. Maybe make a surprise for Parpie? Love yers,’ she said.

  ‘Love yers, too,’ I said back, not believing Parps wasn’t home. But when Marpie told me he definitely wasn’t here I stopped looking for him and hung with her. We made crumbed lamb cutlets and peeled tatties and I couldn’t wait for dinner, my mouth was watering so bad.

  Parpie came home eventually. He was wearing a suit and tie, which he never does and he came in the back door before I had a chance to hide. ‘Boo!’ he said laughing, because I’d managed to see him before he had a chance to sneak up on me.

  ‘Nice suit,’ I said. ‘You gave me a fright, Parps. I never see you in a suit.’

  ‘I know, Jens,’ Parps smiled. ‘Sometimes I have to wear one to say goodbye to old friends. Today was one of those days, I’m afraid.’ He gave Marps a nice kiss and they held hands right there in the kitchen for a while. ‘Cutlets, eh? Our favourite, Jensen. You beauty. I’m going to get changed into cutlet-eating clothes, something I can drip Marps’ gravy all over.’

  Marpie rolled her eyes and smiled.

  He walked out of the kitchen and up the hall, and he’d hardly been gone at all when I heard, ‘Jensen? Come here, I have to show you something. Quick! Jensen!’

  Like a shot, I took off from my stool at the bench and headed down the hall and, just like a jackin-the-box, Parpie launched from the laundry. ‘Baaaaaaaaah!’ I got such a fright I went smack into the hall wall. ‘Gotcha,’ he said.

  ‘Only just,’ I said back, giving him a little whack in the guts. ‘I reckon I’ll get you back.’

  ‘Do your worst, Jens,’ he smiled. ‘I’m ready for ya.’

  • • •

  I’m not sure he was.

  I waited to get him because I wanted to get him good. And he’d told me not to try and give him a fright straight away because he’d be ready for it. He said to wait ’til he wouldn’t be ready. So really, I just did what I was told.

  Mum told me to be a good boy, so that’s what I was being.

  It was dark and I’d heard someone go to the toilet in the middle of the night. They farted when they were doing a wee, which was funny, and that’s when I knew it was Parpie, because he’s big on farting. I wondered if he pulled his own finger. I also knew it was him because Marps was snoring as if she was trying to win a snoring competition. ‘She could snore for Australia,’ is what Parps liked to say.

  I was going to spook him as he walked back to their bedroom, but decided to wait. I bet he goes to the toilet in the middle of every night. I bet that’s just how he is because that’s how Dad is, too. So that’s when it all came clear to me. I’d get him tomorrow, in the middle of the night, when it’s really dark and he’s half asleep and he’s got absolutely no idea.

  I’d be ready, he wouldn’t.

  Easy.

  • • •

  ‘Bvvvvvvvvvt Bvvvvvvvvt Bvvvvvvvvvt’ vibrated my phone. I had no idea what it was. I was having this dream where I was a Transformer and my arms wouldn’t work properly because they were tied up and I’m going ‘Bvvvvvvvvvt Bvvvvvvvvt Bvvvvvvvvvt’ trying to get them to work right. It was weird.

  Then I remembered it was my alarm. Time to get up and set the trap for Parpie. Time to get him back for all the gets he’d got me.

  I crept to the bathroom wondering if it was a good idea, or a really really good idea. By the time I was hiding behind the shower curtain next to the toilet, I had decided it was a really really really good idea. The best ever. I’d just stand there and wait ’til he started peeing, and when he was right into it, like, when he was mid flow and was too far gone to try and stop, that’s when I’d get him. I’d rip the curtain back and BAM!

  I’d let him have it.

  I didn’t even have to wait long.

  He wasn’t trying to be quiet when he walked down the hall, and he’d let a fart go before he got into the bathroom. I was going to cack myself laughing. This was so funny. He was right next to me, only the shower curtain between us, and he’s going, ‘All right, here we go. Ready, Steady. And—’

  ‘BOO!’ I yelled, ripping the shower curtain back.

  Parpie didn’t even say anything. He just went straight backward, like he was in a movie and some magical force had sent him across the bathroom. It was like he’d flown towards the wall but never managed to make it because he hit the ground first. It was awesome! The best get ever.

  ‘Gotcha!’ I yelled. ‘Best ever, Parpie? Hey?’

  But he didn’t say anything back to me. He barely even moved, he was just lying there on his back going ‘Eeeeeeeeeeeergh. Eeeeeeeeeeergh.’

  ‘Parpie?’ I said. ‘Parpie, are you okay?’

  Then his hands went from his side to his chest and between going, ‘Eeeeeeeergh. Eeeeeeeeeeergh,’ he started saying, ‘heeeelp, heeeelp.’

  I could hear Marpie thumping down the hall, flicking lights on as she came and I knew I was going to get it for sure. This was exactly what Mum hadn’t wanted me to do. ‘Errol?’ She said. ‘Errol? What happened, Jensen? What’s happened to Errol?’

  ‘Heeeeelp,’ said Parpie. ‘Heart. Ambulance. Heeeeelp.’

  Grandmarpie swore. She ran out, got her phone and talked quickly into it about Grandparpie, saying he was on the floor holding his heart. She looked so sad and scared. Parpie was the same colour as the grey tiles on the bathroom floor.

  I felt terrible.

  This was awful.

  ‘Jensen,’ whispered Parps. ‘Help me sit up.’ So that’s what I did. I put my hands into his armpits and helped him to the wall, where he sat up at a funny kind of angle looking out the door to the hallway. ‘Jensen,’ he whispered again. ‘You got me good.’

  He looked so bad. So grey. I didn’t want to get him that good. I wished I’d never got him at all. Marps was still on the phone, she was just outside the bathroom giving the address. She kept saying, ‘Hurry, hurry. Yes I’ll hold, but hurry.’

  ‘There’s a bottle in the drawer there,’ Parps said. ‘A yellow bottle. It’s got pills in it. Get it for me.’ I checked the bathroom drawer, there were heaps of bottles with heaps of pills but, luckily, only one was yellow. ‘Give me a pill, son.’

  I shook one out after opening the childproof lock that wasn’t very childproof and gave it to him. He swallowed the pill without any water and sighed. ‘Thanks, Jensen. I think I’m going to die now.’

  ‘Parpie, nooooooooo!’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’

  Then he looked at me one last time, before closing his eyes. Forever, I thought. Oh no, how could this have gone so wrong? It was meant to be a joke.

  ‘Jensen?’ It was the smallest whisper ever.

  ‘Parps?’ I said through tears. Marps was next to me, she was crying, too.
>
  ‘Got ya!’ he winked, sitting up properly. ‘That was a beauty, wasn’t it, Marps? Didn’t we get him that time?’

  ‘Yes, Parps, that was a beauty,’ she said. ‘I still think we might let the ambulance come and see you, just for fun. Okay?’

  ‘Just for fun,’ said Parpie, winking at me again. He looked much better now. He’d got me a beauty, all right.

  And a ride in the ambulance.

  AMELIA

  BUCKET

  AND THE

  ROCKIN’ ROCK

  by

  Frances

  Watts

  Amelia Bucket had never dared to dream she might become a rock star—until recess on Friday. As she and her friend Kayla were walking towards the school library, they saw that someone had put up a poster on the noticeboard outside:

  WANTED: ROCK STAR

  If you have what it takes to be a star, the Green Twisties want you!

  Auditions for a lead singer Saturday 10 am in the school hall.

  ‘Who are the Green Twisties?’ asked Amelia.

  ‘They’re the school’s new rock band,’ said Kayla. ‘Some really cool kids are in it. Hey, you should try out, Amelia—this could be your big chance!’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Amelia. ‘The cool kids wouldn’t want me. And anyway, I’d be too nervous to sing in front of the whole school.’

  ‘But you’ve got a great voice; you always win at SingStar. And you even write your own songs. Don’t you want to be a rock star?’

  As Kayla entered the library, Amelia hung back, staring at the poster. Did she want to be a rock star? Of course she did!

  Closing her eyes, she imagined herself standing on stage, the whole school chanting her name as she sang the last notes of her latest song, ‘Pilchards in the Sun’.

  ‘Bucket . . . Bucket . . . ’

  Hmm, that didn’t sound right. Shouldn’t they be chanting ‘Amelia’?

  And if the whole school was meant to be chanting, why could she only hear one voice?

  Amelia opened her eyes. The one voice belonged to Jason Kastell, a particularly nasty boy from Amelia’s class. Jason was saying, ‘Bucket . . . BUCKET!’