The World's Biggest Bogey (14 page)

The professor was thrilled. ‘Heavens to Betsy!’ he exclaimed. ‘He’s been cured! This is all thanks to you, Danny! Accidental Flatulence-induced Symptom Resolution is
unheard of!’

Dr Sri translated, ‘He means that this is the first time anyone has been accidentally cured by a trump.’

‘Wonderfluff!’ exclaimed Danny.

The professor stroked his false beard thoughtfully. ‘It could be the loudness or the force of the trump that produced the resolution,’ he said. ‘But I suspect that the precise
mixture of chemicals in the trump gas reacted with the blue in Alex’s bottom and turned it pink.’

‘We need to analyse it quickly, before it disappears,’ said Dr Sri.

Danny’s tummy rumbled. ‘Peel the flutey bugle, Wobble, and dangle a lollypop!’ he laughed.

‘Don’t worry, Doctor, there’s plenty more where that came from!’ Matthew translated.

‘Bernard, is the octopus melting on the skateboard?’ Danny asked him.

His friend went over to the sound-level meter and looked at the reading. ‘We got a hundred and ninteen point nine decibels.’

‘The grass-green mole was the pick of the chocolate cans.’

‘Yeah, you’re right, Danny, that
must
be a record,’ agreed Matthew. ‘Should we get writing
^r
to Mr Bibby?’

‘Gumboots!’ Danny grinned.

St Egbert’s Children’s Hospital, Walchester

Bucket scoops, Captain Barnacle

I’m Drainy boots. Our carpets go moo, and bouncing Bernard rumbles merrily in his coffee-pot, for better or worms.

The lemony handbags pickled on your tram tracks and saw deep wallows of tinkling lilac troops. An aeroplane shook a Snowball, but it
wouldn’t shake for Drainy. When penguins waddled on woozy tops, lava lamps waltzed on an itchy gumboil and couldn’t slurp in a Fusspot. Warty diggers snuggle-up bumps! Did the whatnot
rasp a nippy biscuit?

Ding-dong

Drainy Babbler

Hello, Mr Bibby

Its Danny again. I’m still talking nonsense, so my best friend Matthew will tell you what I’m saying, like last time.

Yesterday, sixty-seven of the kids at the hospital produced a trump that measured 119.9 decibels. It cured our new friend Alex, but it
didn’t cure me. After the damage the trump caused, the hospital says it is never going to serve stinky fish and beans and sprouts and cabbage on a Friday ever again. The kids say I’m a
hero! Was our trump a world-beater?

Best wishes

Danny Baker

Dear Danny and Matthew

Bad luck again! You and your friends blew just short of the record. A couple more sprouts might have made all the difference.

The Loudest Single Trump ever recorded was measured at 121.4 decibels. It was produced by the Woolloomooloo Didgeridoo rugby team on 14
July 1996 during a tour of Tonga. Like you, they had been fuelled by a special diet – stinky fish, spinach, cabbage, pumpkin and bananas. At a banquet held in their honour, on a signal from
their captain Hayden Blow, the whole team broke wind simultaneously in front of King Taufa–ahau Tupou IV.

The team broke the Trump Decibel world record, but offended the king and his people so much that they were
asked to leave Tonga and never return.

I hope you put your fingers in your ears when you trumped. 119.9 decibels is about as loud as a jet aircraft taking off, but I don’t
suppose I need to tell
you
that!

I’m really sorry you’re not better yet, Danny, but don’t give up hope, there is
always
a cure. As your new friend
Alex discovered with your monster trump, the trick is just to find it.

Best wishes

Eric Bibby

Keeper of the Records

Danny stood with Mum, Dad and Matthew outside the Big Hall at the University of Walchester. The room was packed with hundreds of Brain Boffins from all over the world, all
there to examine Danny and Matthew.

Dad ruffled Danny’s hair.

‘How do you feel, Dan?’

‘GB.’

Mum put her arm around Danny’s shoulders.

‘Are you sure? You seem a bit fed up to me.’

Danny shrugged. The clock is full of wobbles and custard, Beans,’ he explained. The cat can smile for ants and a spoon can ring its socks.’

Mum looked at Matthew.

‘I don’t want to baffle doctors any more, Mum,’ Matthew translated. ‘It was fun for a while, but now I want to be normal again.’

Inside the hall, Danny heard Professor Walkinshaw announce to the hundreds of assembled Brain Boffins, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the most baffling case I have ever seen: Danny
Baker and his best friend Matthew Mason.’

For the next hour Danny and Matthew told their story and answered questions in their uniquely baffling way. At the end of the session the boys walked off the stage to deafening cheers and
clapping.

Mum gave Danny a hug.

Dad shook Matthew’s hand.

‘Well done, both of you,’ said Dad.

‘It’s a bookworm, Toast,’ sighed Danny. ‘Do dancing spots worry a dinosaur’s boots? Because the cows on bicycles have tea-bag toes.’

Matthew frowned and translated, ‘I’m a bit fed up, Dad. Do you think I’ll ever be able to speak normally again? All I can look forward to are loads more tests.’

Mum knelt down and looked at Danny. She was smiling.

‘There
is
something else to look forward to,’ she said. ‘I’ve got some news that will cheer you up.’

‘Turnip?’ asked Danny.

‘What?’ asked Matthew.

‘I’m going to have a baby,’ Mum said.

Danny’s jaw dropped. He felt as though his breath had got stuck in his chest. He couldn’t get air in or out. He made several choking sounds.