Selby Snaps (2 page)

‘Bogusville’s Big Belly-Buster Bash,’ he mumbled. ‘The first ever country joke festival. Oh, I get it,’ he mumbled even louder. ‘They’re going to have a joke festival. What a great idea! Think of the money they’ll make! No wonder Mrs Trifle isn’t worried about fixing the road. And, look! The jokes are all here! And if I’m not wrong,’ he said looking down at the pad, ‘it will be held on June 14th. Only I think they’re in for a big surprise. The joke is going to be on them.’

Mayor Dorset grabbed Selby’s blank disk, made a quick copy of Gary’s jokes and slipped it into his pocket. By the time Mrs Trifle returned, Mayor Dorset was sitting innocently on the lounge.

‘Thank you,’ he said, taking the paper. ‘I guess we won’t have to sue you after all.’

‘That dirty guy!’ Selby thought. ‘What an awful thing to do, stealing Gary’s idea — and his
jokes! And it’s all my fault for leaving that blank disk there.’

The next two weeks were awful — Selby watched and listened as Mrs Trifle planned the festival while Gary Gaggs rounded up volunteers to tell the jokes.

‘I can’t stand this,’ Selby thought. ‘Mrs Trifle has spent all of Bogusville’s money fixing the road to Poshfield and she’s borrowing more! Meanwhile, Dismal Denis is secretly planning his own festival.’

Sure enough, just one week before Bogusville Day, a very glum Gary Gaggs knocked on the door.

‘This time something really is wrong, isn’t it, Gary?’ Mrs Trifle said.

‘Turn on the TV and you’ll see,’ Gary said.

There on TV was the sour face of Denis Dorset announcing the Poshfield Joke Festival.

‘They’re holding it on the same day as ours,’ Gary said. ‘And they started advertising first so we’re dead.’

‘This is awful!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘How could they have found out about our festival?’

‘I don’t know,’ Gary said. ‘Can we cancel the tent?’

‘It’s too late. Tents-For-Rent put it up this morning. The chairs are all set up. The food and drink has all been ordered. We even hired one of those monitors to read the jokes from. Everything’s paid for.’

‘I just hope the jokes at Poshfield aren’t funny,’ Gary said.

‘Funny or not, we’re ruined,’ Mrs Trifle sighed. ‘And I’ll have to quit my job. Before I wanted to quit because of the workload. Now I have to quit because I’ve made such a costly mistake.’

Selby could see tears forming in Mrs Trifle’s eyes when she told Dr Trifle about quitting her job.

‘It was really
my
fault,’ Selby thought. ‘This is the most horrible day of my life. Oh woe woe woe.’

Finally it was the day of the Poshfield Joke Festival. Gary Gaggs arrived at the Trifles’ house.

‘Come along people, we’re going to Poshfield,’ he said. ‘I’ve got three front row tickets.’

‘But Gary,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘that festival has ruined us. I don’t want anything to do with it.’

‘I know,’ Gary said with a big grin, ‘but it’s going to be a total disaster and we should be there to see it. Guess what? Dull-as-ditchwater Denis is going to tell all the jokes himself!’ Gary giggled. ‘Can you imagine? He’s going to read them off a monitor just the way we were going to. The man’s about as funny as a fish! The jokes would have to be completely people-proof for him to get a laugh. And, let’s face it, they won’t be.’

Gary Gaggs and the Trifles got into the car.

‘I can’t just stay here,’ Selby thought as he hopped in with them. ‘I’ve got to go along. Poor Gary, he’s about to find out that the jokes are
his
jokes. Everyone’s going to laugh and it’s all going to be a huge success. But maybe I can
ruin
it somehow.’

The huge Tents-For-Rent tent was filled with people from all around the country and there were TV cameras and TV news reporters everywhere to report the first ever country joke festival.

A hush came over the crowd as Denis Dorset stepped up to the microphone.

‘I’ve got to do something,’ Selby said to himself. ‘But what can I do? I could pull the plug on the monitor,’ he thought, looking down and seeing the wire on the ground in front of him, ‘but then they’ll just plug it in again. Besides, they’ve taped all the connections together.’

‘I used to work as a vet in an aquarium,’ the mayor began.

‘That’s
your
joke, Gary!’ Mrs Trifle whispered.

‘I know,’ said Gary. ‘Somehow he’s stolen my jokes! This is going to be a disaster — because it’s
not
going to be a disaster!’

‘One day I wanted to see how much the whale weighed,’ Denis Dorset continued, ‘so guess what?’

‘That does it!’ Selby thought as he grabbed the electrical wire in his mouth. ‘I’m going to chomp on this wire! Okay, so I’ll be electrocuted. (
Sniff.
) It’ll be the end of me
(sniff)
but at least it’ll cause a short-circuit and stop the festival for a few minutes. And after they
(sniff)
carry away my limp and lifeless body maybe people won’t laugh as much when the jokes start again. It’s not fair that people
like Dismal Denis can steal jokes and get away with it. Goodbye, oh heartless world!’

Selby was about to chomp through the wire as the mayor continued telling the joke.

‘I said,’ the mayor went on, ‘I wanted to see how much the whale weighed so guess what?… I had him
tweeted
.’ Denis Dorset looked at the audience and smiled but there was total silence.

‘The whale was
tweeted?’
Selby thought. ‘Did I hear him right?’

‘Here’s another one,’ the mayor of Poshfield went on. ‘The other day I went to the dentist. I said to her, “Do you take teeth out painlessly?” And she said, “I took it to a whale weigh station.”’ Again the mayor smiled and waited and again there was silence.

‘After the aquarium I got a job in a zoo. There were a lot of sick birds. The other day I was pulling a tooth and I sprained my wrist.’

‘He’s got the wrong punchlines!’ Gary whispered to the Trifles.

‘And he’s got no sense of humour so he doesn’t realise it,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I’m beginning to enjoy this.’

‘The Scrambler!’ Selby thought. ‘The old computer strikes again! It mixed up the jokes and punchlines on the disk when dreadful Denis copied it!’

Soon people were hissing and booing.

‘What’s wrong with you people?!’ Denis said. ‘Don’t you like jokes?’

‘You’re
the joke!’ someone yelled. ‘We want our money back!’

‘And we want it now!’ someone else yelled.

‘Well you’re not getting it back,’ Denis said. ‘It’s too late. Nya nya.’

Suddenly the air was filled with flying paper cups and paper plates. Denis Dorset ran from the stage screaming, ‘Stop it! Okay you can have your money back! Just go to the box office!’

Mrs Trifle stood up.

‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Listen here, everyone. Grab those dollars, hop in your cars, and take the beautiful, smooth road to Bogusville. Bogusville’s Big Belly-Buster Bash is about to begin!’

And so it was that the first ever country joke festival was held in Bogusville and everyone laughed till their sides were sore.

‘That Gary Gaggs is a genius!’ Selby thought as he struggled to keep from laughing out loud. ‘And I will never complain about the Scrambler again.’

One thing for which I do not care
Is other people’s underwear
Especially if these underclothes
Are just a little on the nose.

But even when they’re clean, I wonder,
What they’re doing there, down under?
This may sound a little mean
But why buy clothes that can’t be seen?

If I was one for underdaks
I’d slip them on outside my slacks
And then my outers would be undies
Every day and twice on Sundies!

‘Promise me that you’ll be good while we’re out tonight,’ Mrs Trifle said to her dreadful nephews, Willy and Billy.

‘We’ll be good,’ Willy and Billy said very sweetly.

‘I don’t want any trouble from you two. I know it’s Halloween tonight but you’re not to go out, is that clear?’

‘Yes, Auntie.’

‘And don’t bother Selby. Hmmm. I wonder where he’s got to.’

‘You’ll never guess,’ Selby thought.

Selby had found the perfect hiding place high on top of the tall cabinet in the loungeroom.
From there he could lie flat and peer down without being noticed.

‘No one’s going to look up to the ceiling to see a dog,’ he thought.

‘I don’t like this Halloween nonsense,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘But, in case some children come around trick-or-treating, give them some lollies from the bowl by the door. You boys may have one each — but only one.’

‘Thank you, Auntie.’

‘Have you brought some videos to watch?’

‘Yes, Auntie,’ Willy said. ‘There’s one about some kids who go to a summer camp on a lake —’

‘And one about a party,’ Billy interrupted.

‘Yes, yes, very nice,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Goodness me, look at the time! Are you ready, dear? Now don’t get into mischief, boys, or you’ll be in big trouble with me and your mother, understand?’

‘Yes, Auntie,’ Willy and Billy said together.

Within seconds of the Trifles leaving, Willy and Billy were fast-forwarding their way through their videos —
Scream at Camp Blood
and
Death Party IV
— only stopping to watch the gory bits.

‘Oh, mate!’ Willy squealed. ‘Look! That’s her head! Oh, cooool!’

‘This is so great!’ Billy squealed back. ‘Hey, let’s eat some lollies!’

Willy and Billy sat there stuffing themselves with the trick-or-treat sweets and watching their videos.

‘How can they watch this stuff?’ Selby wondered. ‘How can they eat when they’re watching it? It makes me sick and I’m not even watching!’

Soon Willy and Billy had fast-forwarded their way from one gruesome scene to another until they came to the end of the videos.

‘What are we going to do now?’ Billy asked.

‘Let’s look for that dumb-face poo poo doggie,’ Willy answered. ‘The one that talks.’

‘He doesn’t talk. Don’t kid me.’

‘Does!”

‘Doesn’t!’

‘I saw him talk!’ Willy said, pushing Billy.

‘You’re a liar!’ Billy said, pushing him back.

‘Am not!’

‘Hey,’ Billy said, suddenly changing tone. ‘Where are the masks?’

‘In the bag,’ Willy said, grabbing his skeleton mask and putting it on. ‘Let’s go trick-or-treating.’

‘Oh, goody!’ Billy said, putting on a devil mask. ‘If we go now we’ll be back before stupy Auntie comes home. Come on!’

Willy and Billy darted out the door. Selby climbed down from the cabinet and grabbed the sweets bowl.

‘I can’t believe this!’ Selby thought. ‘Those little brats ate
all
the lollies!’

Selby stared at the empty bowl, his mouth watering at the thought of sweets.

‘I just wanted one — maybe two,’ he thought. ‘Hang on, I’ve got an idea …’

Selby dashed out the back door and climbed under the house till he found a big plastic bag.

‘It’s still here,’ he thought, taking the dog suit out.

He quickly put on the suit and zipped it up. Then Selby snapped up the fastener at the top.

In a minute he was strolling down the street with the empty plastic bag over his shoulder. Around him on the footpath were children in Halloween costumes.