Mental Note: Check into the san on Monday night.

The first team won 12-5 but still didn’t look like the mean machine of last year.

Tonight I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the Mermaid and am still wondering whether I should write to her after her birthday card. Simon reckons that if I write back to her she’ll cheat on me again one day. Rambo agrees and says that if I want to dominate a woman I need to learn to smack the dog.

I thanked them for their help and made a mental note never to ask them for advice about girls again.

Sunday 12th May

I’ve been given bat by the choir!

As I arrived in the vestry to get on my choir robes, Julian said he wanted to have a little chat. He walked me out into the rose garden and said that he wanted me to step down from the choir until my voice had settled. He said my voice had gone from ‘nightingale to toucan in just eleven days’. He then started getting weepy, so I said it was fine and went back to bed.

PM Feeling depressed about being kicked out of the choir. I decided it was time to focus on my acting career and tomorrow’s house play auditions. I read The Glass Menagerie under the pine trees and spent the afternoon practising my American Deep South accent. I’m auditioning for the role of Tom.

19:00 Wedged in between Vern and Mad Dog, I experienced chapel from the top of the gallery. Every time I mimed a hymn the Crazy Eight would snigger or poke me in the back and call me Milli Vanilli.

Monday 13th May

Runt is behaving weirdly. He keeps staring at me in a mesmerized kind of way. I caught him staring at my balls in the showers so I accused him of being a sicko and told him to get lost. Was very relieved to see that he obeyed me, although he didn’t at any stage look particularly frightened.

There has been a house play mutiny! Julian is no longer directing and the play is now Noah’s Ark. I didn’t know the Bible story had been turned into a play? It was Pike who led the rebellion. He said there were only two roles for men in The Glass Menagerie and the play was three hours long. In the end Pike won the matric vote and Julian was kicked out. I asked Pike where I could get hold of a script for Noah’s Ark. Pike dropped his pants and showed me his backside. He then kicked the door of the common room open and disappeared inside.

HOUSE PLAY AUDITIONS

Seated in the prefects’ room (cop shop) was Anderson, Emberton, Death Breath, Pike and another matric from Barnes House whose nickname is Ricketts. (I recognized Ricketts – he’s big and strong and ugly and the first team tighthead prop.) Ricketts munched on a piece of Bovril toast and asked me if I was retarded. Pike then whispered to Ricketts, ‘This one’s the fag. The retard’s coming in next.’ Ricketts looked disappointed and shoved the rest of the toast in his mouth. Emberton, sensing a pause in conversation, thrashed his sugar cane into one of the seats and told me to start. I asked him what he wanted me to perform. Pike looked at me like I was an idiot and said, ‘I don’t care, turdhole, just do something and then get out of my fucking face!’

By the looks of things my stumbled Bible reading from Genesis didn’t impress the matrics one bit. After just three verses of my dramatized reading of Noah’s Ark, Pike told me to stop. Anderson then asked me if I did any animal impressions, so I did my dove call and they all laughed. Emberton thrashed his stick onto the chair and said, ‘Jeez, you’d think with a scholarship he could tell the difference between a bird and an animal!’

Eventually Pike told me to moo like a cow. Unfortunately, my voice knackjumped, making me sound like a donkey instead. The seniors all fell about laughing and Ricketts told me to get lost before he vomited up his toast. I opened the cop shop door and then heard Pike calling, ‘Oh, Spud, before you leave…’ I darted back inside, hoping for some good news. Pike grinned at the others and then said, ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you.’ I closed the door on loud guffaws and mocking shouts. Standing outside was Vern, dressed in a very tight zebra outfit. He gave me a thumbs up and strode confidently into the cop shop.

The laughter was deafening.

Tuesday 14th May

Boggo’s long awaited party is happening on Saturday. His girlfriend is going to pick us up from the old gates at 8pm and take us to the party which is at her parents’ cottage. We are all bunking out and hoping for the best.

Rugby practice was sheer murder. The good news is that it looks like I will be playing flyhalf for the under 15Cs. This had less to do with my scintillating form than the fact that half of Saturday’s side didn’t pitch up for practice. I hope some of them turn up on Thursday or else we might have Vern playing on the right wing.

I caught Runt watching me during dinner. I tried to ignore him but I lost my appetite and gave my pork chops to Fatty.

Thursday 16th May

The cast for Noah’s Ark was pinned to the house notice-board.

NOAH Anderson GOD ALMIGHTY Devries NOAH’S MATES Emberton, Boggo, Death Breath BABOON Rambo THE FLOOD JR Ewing, Spike ARK ANCHOR Fatty GAY AUSTRALIAN SHEEP Simon DOVE OF PEACE Spud Milton THE THREE DARRYLS as themselves Underneath it said:

Written by PIKE Directed by ANDERSON Prompt RAIN MAN Please report to the cop shop Sunday 19th/05 @ 20:30.

From Oliver to the Dove of Peace! Worried I might be getting stereotyped as pure and innocent characters. Once my balls have dropped completely I’ll have to play a villain or a psychopath.

Friday 17th May

Fatty has been making a lot of noise all week about Friday the 13th, in spite of everyone telling him that it’s actually Friday the 17th. Still he reckons Macarthur’s going to appear and that there’s also a good chance of calling up Gecko’s ghost. Rambo ordered Fatty to prepare for a seance and called the gathering for 22:00.

22:00 The seance was delayed because Roger pissed on Simon’s duvet while Fatty was trying to summon up spirits of the underworld. Mad Dog tried to catch Roger, but the wily animal jumped out Vern’s window and escaped down the drainpipe. Once Simon had changed his bedding Fatty began murmuring and humming to himself and shaking what sounded like a bag of marbles. Then Pike and Devries came in and made ghost noises and said we were childish. Pike let off a stink bomb that led to a mad scramble into the first years’ dorm. Fatty kicked JR Ewing out of his bed and set up for his seance once again. (Fatty still regards his old bed as rightfully his and frequently inspects his former headquarters.) Unfortunately one of the Darryls freaked out and thought we were devil worshipping. He burst into tears and kept repeating the Ten Commandments to himself. Fatty cancelled the seance and instead we followed Mad Dog out of the window and out onto the vestry roof.

Mad Dog led us through the thick mist towards the dam. I ran up alongside him and asked him where he was leading us. He said, ‘This is going to blow your mind.’ He then stopped abruptly and held up his hand for complete silence. We all stopped in our tracks. In the fog it was difficult to make out the trees looming over us. Everything was creepy and lurking, like the dark spirits were following us along on our journey. Suddenly Mad Dog dived into the bushes beside the road. ‘Somebody’s coming,’ he hissed. We all followed him into the bushes sounding like a herd of stampeding buffalo running into a hedge. We crouched down, panting and shivering, and waited for something to appear.

And then there was a very disturbing clinking sound coming from the direction of the dam. Out of the mist came a deformed creature that looked half human, half beast. It was hard to make out in the gloom but it looked suspiciously like a character of cloven hoof, limping his way to wreak havoc on the school. Then a long moaning howl rose out of nowhere and made my hair stand on end. Turned out the howl was coming from Roger who had just discovered the Crazy Eight and was announcing himself to Vern. Rain Man started calling to his cat but Mad Dog clamped his hand over Vern’s mouth and half his face. The cloven hoof figure stopped and slowly turned towards us. You could hear his heavy breathing like Darth Vader. Fatty lifted his huge silver crucifix high into the air in case the Satan creature attacked. But then the creature seemed to lose interest and limped on up the path towards the sanatorium before disappearing into the misty gloom.

Once the creature was gone, there was a breathing out moment. Fatty turned to us and whispered, ‘I dare anyone to say to my face right now that we have not just seen the face of Satan himself. You see – what did I tell you? Friday the 13th, ous… bad shit always goes down on Friday the 13th!’ Vern started muttering the Lord’s prayer to himself but forgot the words halfway through. Boggo stood up and said, ‘Fatty, as always, you’ve cocked it up. Not only is it not Friday the 13th, but that wasn’t Satan, you tossbox. That was Morgan McMurtry from the laundry. He has a deformed leg and nasal problems.’

Soon we all accepted that we had in fact just had a standoff with a cripple from the laundry and that we’d never mention this again.

After thoroughly abusing Fatty, we followed Mad Dog on through the mist and after some serious bushwhacking we landed up at the foot of a big tree. It was the tree house Mad Dog had made during Adventure Club. Mad Dog disappeared up into its branches and soon there was a pale yellow light leading the way up the trunk. We held on to the ladder of nails that had been hammered into the treetrunk and one by one we made our way up to find the most amazing tree house I’ve ever seen! Mad Dog has done some serious work on it since last term’s Adventure Club lesson. The entire floor was covered with black rubber car mats. Under a canopy of leaves was a room big enough for all of us to sit in. Then there was a small veranda for two people that overlooked the forest. Mad Dog had bags of straw to use as seats and the walls and the frames were all slabs of wood tied together with rope and dry grass. Once we were all seated he said, ‘Welcome to the Mad House.’ He then looked embarrassed and kicked Vern for no reason. Mad Dog confessed that he had been working on the Mad House just about every day since the Adventure Club lesson and that all the wood, rope, building tools and car mats had been stolen from the school workshop and bus yard.

Rambo reckons we should turn the Mad House into our own personal den – for use only by the Crazy Eight and to be kept in complete secrecy from every other living human being. Everyone was getting so excited about having our own private hideaway. It was like something out of Dead Poets’ Society except cooler and better disguised. Mad Dog said that the tree house was invisible from the ground and the only way we could ever be discovered was if we were followed or if somebody blabbed. Rambo made us shake on a vow of silence and then ordered us each to bring back a single item for the Mad House after the half term weekend. He then offered cigarettes around (nobody was allowed to refuse) and we all officially christened the Mad House.

And then Fatty started up with his ghost stories and we sat there smoking with the pale gloom of the moon about us and the pitch black forest below.

Saturday 18th May

The under 15C rugby team triumphed over Arlington 24-0. Vern scored two tries and surprised everyone by having a brilliant game. He’s developed his own technique of catching the ball and then screaming like a psychopath before charging straight at the opposition wing. Both times the opposition wing ran away in terror and Vern scored under the poles. Mongrel tried his best to look unimpressed by our performance but was secretly chuffed and certainly the most calm that he’s been all term.

I sidled up to the opposition flyhalf after our game and shook his hand. I then asked him if somebody called Alexander Short was at his school. His eyes widened and he said Alexander Short left Arlington at the end of last term. Apparently his parents separated and he went to school in England where he’s living with his mother and grandparents. So it was ASS behind the shrubs after the aborted cricket match last term.

Alexander Short Stay strikes again!

In the end not a single side lost to Arlington. Just to rub it in, Mad Dog sprayed LOSERS on the back of their bus with Vern’s shaving cream. Unfortunately, the bus he sprayed belonged to our school’s wind band that was about to leave for a concert at Kings College.

THE PARTY

20:00 Boggo’s girlfriend was waiting for us at the old gates. She was much hotter than I expected. In fact it’s a complete miracle but she seems to really like Boggo.

More good news is that the prefects and matrics have all gone to a big party in Pietermaritzburg. (In third year and matric you are allowed two weekends leave per term.) This means that the chances of getting bust are minimal. Boggo has already bribed the third years to cover for us at lights out by saying we are at a social at St Joan’s.

When normal people say cottage they mean two rooms, a kitchen and maybe a loo outside. When rich people say cottage they mean a mansion with a thatched roof.

(Mental note: I must stop jumping out the car and saying Wow when I arrive at rich people’s houses. I always get laughed at and then people keep coming up to tell me that their dad’s holiday house makes this mansion look like a chicken run.)

There were at least eighty teenagers drinking up a storm with not a single adult in sight. More people were arriving all the time and the front lawn was covered with bodies dancing to Springsteen. The Crazy Eight made their way to the main lounge. Everyone stopped talking and all eyes fell on Vern who seemed to be having some angry words with himself at the entrance to the lounge. Rambo looked at the crowd and said, ‘Don’t worry about him, he’s deranged.’ Vern grinned and gave a thumbs up and everybody laughed.

I wandered down to the bottom of the garden and sat on a swing bench. I didn’t feel like having a downdown competition with Fatty and Rambo. I didn’t feel like drinking beer or smoking cigarettes either. I was thinking about Mermaid. Should I write back? Use the excuse of thanking her for the birthday card? Then I tried to forget about her and focused on the sound of screams and wild splashing coming from the dam.

I looked up at the sky and thought about her again. I was about to stand up when I heard footsteps approaching. I sank into the bench hoping Vern hadn’t discovered my whereabouts, but I was too late. I felt the lurch on the bench as somebody sat beside me. I smelled the scent of vanilla. I remember turning my face and locking into a pair of dark brown eyes.

It was Amanda.

Before I could say a thing she was kissing me. I got such a fright my left leg started shuddering like it had a life of its own. I felt like I was slipping off the swing. After the kiss she smiled at me and said, ‘Hello, Oliver.’ I tried to speak but my voice sounded like a donkey. She laughed her husky laugh and said, ‘So at last the spud becomes a man…’ I smiled but didn’t say anything. And then she kissed me again. I mean, like she just grabbed the back of my head and pulled me towards her. After some vigorous kissing Amanda pulled back, looked me in the eyes and – :

AMANDA How’s your girlfriend? SPUD What girlfriend? AMANDA You know – big boobs, all bright eyed and bushy tailed… SPUD Um… she… I mean, we broke up. AMANDA Good. Do you want to be my toy boy? SPUD (Not sure what to say, finally manages) Ummmmm. AMANDA Then you’re going to have to keep a secret. SPUD Why? AMANDA So that my boyfriend doesn’t find out, you dork! SPUD You have a boyfriend? AMANDA Second year varsity. Studying politics. He calls these parties examples of infantile masculinity. SPUD What do you think? AMANDA I like infantile sexuality. More kissing on the bench at the bottom of the garden.

We didn’t talk much after that. We just looked out over the moonlit dam and watched the stars and my fingers were entwined through hers.

Sunday 19th May

It feels like last night was just a strange dream. Everyone was teasing me about spending the entire party with my tongue down Amanda’s throat. I tried my best to pretend I was embarrassed.

After chapel and breakfast Mad Dog made me go on a lynx hunt with him. After hours of hunting we hadn’t seen so much as a francolin so we returned to the Mad House where I spent the afternoon trying to read Cry, The Beloved Country while Mad Dog and Rambo made noisy alterations from the branch below. I hardly read a word and kept thinking about Amanda.

I have to say that sharing her with an older man isn’t ideal. Simon reckoned the relationship is doomed because there’s no trust and everything is only physical. Boggo said it sounded like his dream relationship.

20:00 There was a long debate at play rehearsal about how Fatty would appear as the ark’s anchor. It was decided by Pike that Fatty would be lowered down from the roof by means of a fly bar. The rope from the fly bar would also look like the anchor rope and the blue light would look like the sea/flood. Pike bravely phoned Viking at home to find out if this was allowed. Unfortunately, Viking refused and said Fatty’s weight would pull the fly bar out of the roof and could bring the entire theatre down with him.

The three Darryls were all fired for being untalented and over emotional.

Monday 20th May

Sparerib called me in to his office for a chat. He looked at me with his wonky eye and said, ‘John, I’m really looking for an improvement on your results this term.’ I told him I would do my best. He sniffed snootily, and gave me a dodgy look that indicated that he didn’t think my best would be good enough. He scratched his chin for a while and asked me if I had given any thought to my choice of subjects for matric. I informed my housemaster that I wasn’t taking science or biology and instead I’ll do drama, history and geography. Sparerib went red in the face and his eyes bulged with surprise. He said, ‘Are you sure you’re making the correct decision?’ I told him I planned to become a famous actor. Sparerib looked horrified and began fidgeting with his fountain pen. He clearly didn’t know what to say next but he told me to give the matter some serious consideration.

Spud 1 Sparerib 0

Flushed with my success over Sparerib, I called Amanda. She wasn’t in but her dad gave me a number where I could reach her. I called the number and a man answered. I asked for Amanda. He said, ‘Hold on.’ There was some whispering and scuffling and then Amanda came to the phone. I was shaking with excitement and looked down at the little piece of paper I held in my left hand. On it I had written:

CONVERSATION DEFINITES

1 How are you?

2 Thanks for Saturday night

3 How is school?

4 When can I see you again?

5 Defeat of Sparerib

POSSIBLES

1 African Affairs and general Struggle talk

2 A date on the long weekend (depending on her answer to No 4 above)

3 Wombat stories

4 Overseas trip

Unfortunately, I had barely got through point one of the conversation definites when Amanda told me never to call her at that number again and hung up.

I sat staring at the phone for the next five minutes praying it would ring. It did, but it was Vern’s mom.

20:00 Our first real rehearsal of Noah’s Ark was a complete shambles. The script still isn’t ready. Pike said he was working on the fourth draft but obviously nobody believed him. Not sure what kind of part the Dove of Peace will get when the script is finally complete. Vern had nothing to do as the prompt so he spent an hour doing a very dodgy impersonation of a goat. Rambo asked if his Baboon could have a huge set of blue balls. Julian (who has been brought in as set designer) said it was a thrilling idea and promised to make them himself.

After lights out I sat on the window ledge and thought about Amanda. I know in my heart that I should write her off. She has never taken me seriously and quite obviously her boyfriend will always be more important than me. Unfortunately she’s just too beautiful to ignore so I plan to lie low and wait for her to come to me. I then thought about Mermaid but then started struggling to breathe so I thought about cricket instead.

Tuesday 21st May

I went up to the dorm during break and found Runt in my cubicle rifling through my locker. He blushed and said he was looking for a pen. I accused him of being a thief and told him to get lost or I’d thrash him within an inch of his life. He smiled at me but left in a hurry. I then felt myself blushing, not because of Runt, but because I sounded exactly like my father. Think I’ll have to report Runt to the Crazy Eight for dodgy and possibly very dodgy behaviour.

Thursday 23rd May

Call from home. Mom sounded happy and excited and said that Wombat was making great strides. Also more good news is that all the booze is now being brewed at Johnny Rogers’ depot. Innocence works the mornings on housework and the afternoons at the Moonshine depot. Dad is now branching out into selling insurance and has been having discussions with a man called Dennis who sells life and death policies. She then reminded me it was just 42 days until we leave for London.

Dad came to the phone and asked me how the rugby was going. I told him I was flyhalf for the under 15Cs. He warned me that rugby was a dangerous game and asked me if I had a comprehensive life cover. I didn’t know what he was talking about so I told him I needed to get to class and hung up. Eight days until the long weekend!

Friday 24th May

I told my dorm mates about how strangely Runt has been behaving. I explained the constant staring and how I’d caught him on Tuesday going through my locker. Almost before I had finished Mad Dog stormed into the first year dorm, there was a loud squeal and then Mad Dog returned carrying Runt under his arm. He plonked Runt down on the floor and asked him if he was a bumrusher. Runt went blood red and then burst into tears. By now the Crazy Eight had all gathered around to inspect the situation. Poor Runt looked pitiful sitting on the floor of my cubicle sobbing his heart out. Rambo pulled him up with one hand and said, ‘Right, you little pissdrop, why are you staring at Spud like he’s Cindy Crawford?’ Runt burst into tears again. Mad Dog then lost his patience and threw Runt over the wooden partition and onto Simon’s bed.

I have to admit it was quite a sight seeing Runt flying through the air like a paper plane. There was a loud snap and a cry of agony. Rambo howled with laughter and said, ‘Hey, Runt! If you’re looking for a bumrushing, you’re lying in the right bed. Simon’s a raging homo…’ Boggo laughed so much he fell back over Vern who was busy pulling at a large clump of hair. Vern giggled and stashed the clump of hair in his laundry bag.

By now everybody was doubled over with laughter, except for Simon who pushed Rambo and told him to piss off. The next second there was a sickening thud and Simon was on the deck holding his left eye. Everyone was shocked into silence. Then Rambo called Simon a fag once again before leaving the dormitory with a slam of the door. Runt seized the moment and galloped back to his own dormitory. The rest of us stood around just staring at poor Simon who was snivelling and sobbing and holding a pair of underpants over his eye to stop the bleeding. Mad Dog and I helped him to his bed while Boggo snuck down to the prefects’ kitchen for some ice and a dishcloth. Mad Dog said he was going to find Rambo, flung on his khaki hunting jacket and disappeared through the chapel window.

We spent the next few hours trying to cheer Simon up as he held the dishcloth over his eye. His mood improved as time went by and he even giggled when Boggo told him he looked like Yasser Arafat.

Mad Dog didn’t return and neither did Rambo.

Saturday 25th May

Sparerib hauled Simon into his office and demanded to know why his face was disfigured. Simon told him he was hit by a hockey ball in the dormitory. Sparerib then asked him who had hit the hockey ball and Simon said he’d hit it himself. Sparerib said that considering Simon’s ball skills this was unlikely and then tried unsuccessfully to get Simon to rat on Rambo. Rambo apologized to Simon at breakfast and said he wouldn’t call him a fag anymore. Simon nodded but didn’t say anything.

We lost 28-27 to St James College (but I scored a try!). I must admit it wasn’t a classic Danie Gerber try – more like being dragged over the line by Pig who then dived on me. Unfortunately, my leg was hurting so much after being crushed by the falling Pig that my conversion attempt didn’t get off the ground.

Mongrel was so pissed off that he refused to shake the hand of the opposition coach who had also reffed the game. I must admit a few of his decisions were a bit controversial. (At one stage he sent Pig to the cooler because his bootlaces were undone!) He also penalized Vern for backchat although Vern was actually shouting at his rugby boots because they weren’t running fast enough. Their coach awarded them a penalty in front of our poles and then shouted to our linesman, ‘We’re going for poles!’ The score at this stage was 27-25 to us.

Mongrel was getting so irate on the touchline that he shouted, ‘Hey, ref! Why don’t you just kick the blerrie thing over while you’re about it!’ The ref/coach wasn’t impressed and tried to order Mongrel to the cooler (I didn’t know teachers could be sent to the cooler?) but Mongrel wasn’t going to be pushed around and started rolling up his sleeves and striding towards the ref who then let off a series of loud whistle blasts that became more and more shrill as Mongrel got closer. Eventually some St James parents got involved and one of them gave Mongrel a beer and told him to cool it. After much pointing and heated discussion Mongrel left the field cursing and sipping deeply from his beer. The St James parents gave him a few boos and he gave them the finger. The St James kicker kicked the penalty through the poles and the ref/coach blew the final whistle ten minutes early.

The first team lost for the first time since I have been at the school. The score was 24-6 and our boys played terribly. The big school buses returned to school in absolute silence.

21:00 The school is like a morgue. Usually at this time of night there would be voices from the cloisters below and the sound of somebody sprinting across the quad. Tonight all I could hear was the far-off rumble of the train and the never-ending trickle of Pissing Pete.

Sunday 26th May

The atmosphere in the dorm was weird so I set off for the pine trees with Cry, The Beloved Country. It’s a beautiful story of a black priest who travels from the Midlands to Johannesburg to find his son. He discovers his son is in prison for the murder of the son of his white neighbour back home. (It sounds more complicated than it is.) I got halfway through and then had to stop because I was feeling so sorry for Reverend Khumalo. I then started thinking about the AA meeting tonight, and then I thought of Amanda and how much I want to kiss her again. But then my thoughts turned towards the long weekend, and riding my bike to the Mermaid house, and hopefully getting a glimpse of her blonde hair like a waterfall. I felt a stabbing pain in my chest and had to think of cricket for about ten minutes before it disappeared.

House play rehearsals were cancelled because Pike hasn’t finished the script yet. Why does it feel like I’m the only person worried by this?

I got into shit at the African Affairs meeting because I lost the minutes of the last meeting. I hate being secretary – it feels like I’m doing an exam on a Sunday night instead of sitting around drinking coffee and being a freedom fighter. Linton Austin was livid with my mistake and put a motion forward that I should be suspended from AA for two meetings and be replaced as secretary of the society. Nobody seconded his motion so he ended up looking like a turd. After Linton had finished his tirade I took a deep breath before asking if I could retire as secretary. Everyone laughed at me. (This may have been due to a spectacular knackjump rather than my attempt at resignation.)

Monday 27th May

Boggo rushed in to lunch and told us that Fatty had been invited to the Natal Inland Hotdog Eating Competition and he will be representing Nottingham Road. The event takes place at the Royal Show in Pietermaritzburg in June. Fatty was so excited that he lost his appetite. (Not a great start.)

Back in the dorm the excitement had spread. Boggo stuck Fatty’s invitation letter up on the wall with an old piece of chewing gum. (Since becoming Fatty’s eating agent Boggo opens all Fatty’s mail.) Boggo flicked over the invitation and showed us where the prizes were listed. The winner gets a thousand rand, second five hundred and third two-fifty. Fatty said if he won anything he would use the money for upgrades to the Mad House. Boggo (who gets a thirty per cent manager’s fee) didn’t say what he would do with his money.

Fatty sat on his bed like a buddha and said, ‘If you think nine boerie rolls was something, wait for the hotdogs…’ He then informed Boggo that he would need to practise. Boggo took a five rand collection from everyone. (Vern had to pay an extra five for Roger.) Mad Dog offered to pay in for me because my pocket money ran out last week. I felt a bit embarrassed but promised I would pay him back. Boggo snatched up the money, borrowed Thinny’s bike after threatening him with a razor blade, and cycled off to the trading store at the railway station. He returned with four packets of Estcourt vienna sausages, Fifty-four rolls and a Scope magazine. Anderson has miraculously allowed Boggo to keep the sausages in the cop shop fridge and the rolls were stashed under Fatty’s bed.

Anderson must be pretty excited about Fatty’s eating competition because he put a sign on the fridge saying:

Date: 2015-12-17; view: 523