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Authors: Duncan Ball

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BOOK: Selby Shattered
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‘They have no idea what to do,’ he thought. ‘But who am I to talk? I don’t either. And it’s all my fault. I should never have got the milk out of the fridge. Who said you shouldn’t cry over spilt milk?
(Sniff)
Watch me.’

Now, if you or I were stranded on a tiny, out-of-the-way island, we’d look for fresh water to drink and fruits to eat or we’d try to catch fish.

‘These guys wouldn’t recognise food unless it came in a packet,’ Selby sighed.

And, if you or I were stranded and there was nothing to eat or drink, we’d at least play games or sing songs to cheer ourselves up and hope that we’d be rescued.

‘These guys wouldn’t recognise a game unless it had a joystick and a keyboard,’ Selby thought. ‘And they’ve been listening to their music players for so long they’ve never learned how to sing.’

A day passed but no one came to find them. Their clothes — and Selby’s fur — dried in the warm breeze but still they just sat and stared at the sea. Selby slept badly that night. Tears filled his eyes as he thought about his cozy home in Bogusville and the wonderful Trifles.

In the morning, he sat wondering how he’d got himself into this mess.

‘I never should have sent my photo to DogsBody,’ he thought. ‘These guys didn’t need a symbol. What they needed was a nanny. I mean, they’re really smart but they still need someone to tell them what to do.’

Just as he was thinking this thought, Selby heard a faint buzzing sound in the distance.

‘What do you reckon that is?’ Eva asked.

‘It sounds like a helicopter,’ Jason said.

‘It
is
a helicopter!’ Selby thought as he saw a speck coming closer and closer. ‘It’s coming to get us!’

The helicopter was about to pass over them.

‘They’ll never see us,’ Zak said with a sigh. ‘They’re up too high.’

‘Come on, guys!’ Selby thought. ‘Don’t just sit there like a bunch of lumps! Wave your arms! Run around! Do something!’

Selby ran out onto the beach.

‘What’s Selby doing?’ Eva asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Zak said. ‘He’s kinda running but he’s digging at the same time. It’s like he’s gone crazy or something.’

‘Far out,’ Jason said.

‘Hea-
vy
,’ Miles added.

The DogsBody people sat there stunned as Selby tore around and around the sand making a sound that sounded something like
eeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwww!

Round and round he went, turning this way
and that, digging a trench in the sand as he went.

Then, just as the helicopter was turning to leave, it suddenly spun around and started down.

‘It’s seen us!’ Zak yelled. ‘It’s coming to rescue us!’

Soon the helicopter had landed on the beach. The cheering DogsBody people picked up Selby and scrambled inside.

‘Thank goodness you saw us,’ Eva said to the pilot as the helicopter zoomed up into the sky again.

‘I didn’t see you,’ the pilot said. ‘I saw your dog’s body.’

‘You saw him?’ Zak asked, pointing to Selby.

‘No,’ the pilot said, ‘I couldn’t have seen him from up where I was. He’s too small. I saw your dog’s body. The picture on the beach. That thing you had on your sail.’ He pointed towards the ground. ‘As soon as I saw it, I knew you must be on the island.’

The DogsBody people (and Selby) looked down at the beach. There, below, was an outline in the sand looking very much like Selby.

‘Wow!’ Miles said. ‘We didn’t do that! Selby must have done it when he ran around and around in the sand.’

‘And it came out looking just like him,’ Zak said.

‘Yes,’ Eva said, getting out her calculator. ‘What do you reckon the chances of that would be?’

‘That’s something you’ll never know,’ Selby thought.

And now he felt a warm feeling come over him. He was going home.

Gary Gaggs and the Ghostly Gagster

‘My last comedy show was a disaster!’ cried Gary Gaggs. ‘I’m going to give up being a comedian.’

Dr and Mrs Trifle both smiled while Selby struggled not to smile.

‘I just love this guy,’ Selby thought. ‘He can make anything funny. I can’t wait for the punchline.’

‘Well?’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘What’s the punchline?’

‘There is no punchline,’ Gary said. ‘I’m serious. Every time I do my show, it’s a total disaster.’

‘You haven’t been telling your killer joke
again, have you?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

‘No, someone is coming to all my shows and shouting out my punchlines before I can say them.’

‘Oh, so it’s a heckler,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘But you’ve got all those great put-down lines to make hecklers feel silly.’

‘Yes,’ Dr Trifle agreed. ‘Remember the heckler with the big nose and you said,
Excuse me, sir, but is that your nose or are you eating a banana?
And another time when there was a heckler with big ears and you said,
Are those your ears or is there an elephant standing behind you?
That was very funny.’

‘I remember a heckler who was wearing a shirt with wide stripes,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘He started yelling things out and you said,
Excuse me, sir, but is that a striped shirt or am I looking through the bars of your cage?’

‘I’ve got lots of heckler busters
Gary said, ‘but they’re no good because I can’t see who’s heckling. It’s like he’s a phantom heckler. He’s a ghostly gagster. He knows all my jokes and he’s following me around.’

‘Sheeesh!’ Selby thought, as a shiver shot up his spine. ‘A phantom heckler. A ghostly gagster. That gives me the creeps.’

‘It happened in Brisbane and then in Sydney just last week,’ Gary said. ‘Someone must really hate me.’

‘That’s silly,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Everybody loves a comedian.’

‘Everyone except
another
comedian,’ Gary said.

‘I reckon he’s right,’ Selby thought. ‘I’ll bet it’s a jealous comedian turning up to his shows and ruining them.’

‘You could make up new jokes for every show,’ Dr Trifle suggested. ‘That way he wouldn’t know the punchlines.’

‘That would be impossible. Do you know how long it takes to make up a whole show full of jokes?’ Gary sighed. ‘Will you guys do me a favour? Would you come to my show this afternoon and see if you can spot the heckler and point him out to me? It’s hard for me to see
because of the spotlights on stage shining in my eyes.’

‘You can count on us, Gary,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We’ll be there.’

‘And so will I,’ thought Selby. ‘But I’ll have to sneak in.’

That afternoon, Dr and Mrs Trifle and Gary drove to the theatre together. Selby ran after them, taking every short-cut that he could think of.

‘I’ve never been this nervous in my life,’ Gary admitted.

‘Relax,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We’ll find your phantom heckler for you and then you can give him your best heckler busters.’

Selby crept into the theatre and hid behind the curtain so that he could peek out at everyone in the audience.

‘Good afternoon, ladies and germs,’ Gary said starting the show. ‘It’s great to be back in Bogusville. This is where I did my very first comedy show. You may not know this but I wasn’t always a comedian. No, I wasn’t. I used to be a tailor but I had to quit. It didn’t suit me. It
didn’t
suit
me. Woo woo woo!’ Gary added, strutting around like a chicken.

‘Oh! Oh! Oh!’ Selby gasped. ‘It didn’t
suit
him. That’s great!’

‘But seriously, folks, then I got a job in a bag factory but they gave me the sack.’

‘The bag factory gave him the
sack!’
Selby thought, as he struggled not to laugh.

‘Then I worked in a fruit-juice factory but they
canned
me. I just couldn’t
concentrate.
Woo woo woo!’

‘Gary has to be the funniest guy in the whole world!’ Selby thought, as the audience roared with laughter. ‘And they’re loving it!’

Selby looked all around the audience. Everyone was laughing except one silver-haired old man with a pimple on his nose.

‘He isn’t even smiling,’ Selby thought. ‘He might be a bit deaf, poor guy.’

‘But seriously, folks,’ Gary went on. ‘Two fish were in a tank. One of the fish said to the other fish, “How do you drive this thing?” Woo woo woo!’

‘I get it!’ Selby thought. ‘They were in a
tank!
An army tank! That is soooooooo funny! And
Gary was worried for nothing. The heckler isn’t even here today.’

‘I have this hopeless little brother named Larry,’ Gary continued. ‘One day I saw him carrying a ladder to school. A big, tall ladder. So I said, “Where are you going with that?” And Larry said —’

Suddenly a voice from the audience yelled out, ‘I need it because I’m starting
high
school today!’

‘It’s him!’ Selby thought. ‘It’s the phantom heckler! He’s here, after all!’

The audience laughed as they looked around. ‘But seriously, folks,’ Gary said, ignoring the heckler. ‘My brother was taking an exam and the teacher said to him, “I hope I didn’t just see you copying Melanie’s answers."And Larry said —’

‘I hope you didn’t either!’
the heckler shouted.

‘Yes, very good,’ Gary said. ‘You took the words right out of my mouth. Anyway, that evening Mum asked him if the exam questions were hard. And he said, “No, the questions were simple —“’

‘It’s just the answers that were hard!’
the voice yelled out.

‘I couldn’t have put it better myself,’ Gary said, pretending to laugh along with the audience.

‘I can’t believe this,’ Selby thought. ‘He’s telling the punchlines to every one of Gary’s jokes. I can’t see who’s doing it and neither can anyone else.’

‘But seriously, folks,’ Gary went on. ‘One day my brother rang the principal. He put on a deep voice and said, “Larry is sick today so he can’t go to school.” So the principal said, “Okay, but who is this calling?” And my brother said — ‘

Once again the phantom heckler yelled out.
‘It’s my father
!’

‘Poor Gary,’ Selby thought. ‘He’s so stressed.’

After the show, the Trifles met Gary in his dressing room.

‘Sorry, Gary,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We couldn’t figure out where the voice was coming from.’

‘Well, he got what he wanted,’ said Gary. ‘Because I quit. I’m never going to do another comedy show.’

‘Gary, that’s terrible! And what about tonight’s show? You can’t just not turn up. It’s sold out. Some people will have driven for hours to see you.’

‘Then they can have their money back,’ Gary said.

‘Gary, please,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Whoever he is, he won’t come back again tonight, I’m sure.’

‘I’m sure he will.’

‘How long have we known each other?’

‘I don’t know. Almost all our lives. Why?’

‘Then do us a big friends’ favour,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Do your show this one last time and we’ll find the heckler — we promise.’

Selby was on his way home from the show when it happened. He was passing the old man he’d seen in the theatre, the old man who hadn’t laughed at Gary’s jokes. Only now he was laughing.

‘Ha ha ha ha.
That was so funny!’ the man said out loud. ‘It was all I could do to keep from laughing.’

‘What is it with this guy?’ Selby thought. ‘He doesn’t even smile through the whole show and now he’s laughing like a kookaburra.’

‘The more I think about those jokes, the funnier they get,’ the man said.
‘Ha ha ha ha.

Selby looked back over his shoulder at the man.

‘Hey, this guy’s talking and laughing and everything — without moving his lips. Like a ventriloquist.’

Selby stopped dead in his tracks.

‘That’s it!’ he thought. ‘He
is
a ventriloquist! He’s the ghostly gagster! I’ve got to do something about this!’

‘Hello there, old boy,’ the man said to Selby. ‘What are you looking at? Come here. I want to give you a pat.’

‘Whoa! He can’t be a ventriloquist,’ Selby thought. ‘His lips didn’t even twitch when he said
boy
and
pat.
Even a ventriloquist can’t do that. I’ve got to find out more about this dude.’

Selby ducked into the bushes and followed the man to the Bogusville Motel. He stood on his hind legs and peered into the man’s window.

Moments later, he watched in shock as the old man stood in front of his mirror and grabbed his face, pulling it off along with his gray hair. Underneath was a younger man.

‘It’s a mask!’ Selby gasped. ‘No wonder he
could talk without moving his lips! Selby, the dog detective
,strikes again!’

That evening, Gary found a mysterious note in his dressing room. It read:

BOOK: Selby Shattered
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