Read Ratburger Salad Page 5

It was not an easy idea for him to explain. Or maybe it was easy for him to explain but not easy for them to understand. They could be like that, sometimes.

  The time was after school and the place was Tony’s bedroom, the safest time and place to talk if ever they were planning something, and they often were. And Al had outlined to them his Great Idea, the one that was guaranteed to get them out of Cookery, not just for the rest of the term or even the rest of their school careers but probably for the rest of their lives, guys! But even with that tantalising prospect dangled before them, they seemed to be having just a little trouble taking it in…

  ‘…so what you’re saying,’ said Jon, ‘is we play along with old Palm Trees, do all her Cookery stuff like she wants us to, but use something gross as the main ingredient.’

  ‘Something really gross,’ said Al, ‘something that’ll make her want to puke.’

  ‘Well, I ain’t clearing it up,’ said Tony.

  ‘You won’t have to, yer berk! You know what I mean.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Jon, ‘I’m with you so far. But this gross something you want to put in, what did you have in mind?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that. What do women hate most? What makes them want to scream and run a mile?’

  ‘My dad after a few pints?’ said Eddie brightly.

  They laughed. They all knew Eddie’s dad.

  ‘Apart from your dad,’ Al said above the noise. ‘Come on, guys, be serious. This could be important.’

  They tried to be serious, turned their thoughts to this one Great Question in Al’s Great Idea.

  ‘Spiders,’ Tony said eventually. ‘My mum hates spiders. Whenever she finds one in the bath, she yells for me dad to come and get rid of it.’

  ‘What about your sister?’ said Jon. ‘Is she the same?’

  ‘Nah! When spiders see her, they scream and run.’

  They laughed. They had all met Tony’s sister, too.

  ‘I don’t blame them,’ said Al. ‘But not everyone hates spiders. I’ve got an aunt who lives in the country, says she don’t feel safe unless she knows there’s at least one or two knocking around the house, says they keep the flies down.’

  ‘Weird!’ said Jon.

  ‘Very,’ said Al. ‘Anyone else got any ideas?’

  ‘Mice,’ said Eddie. ‘In all the cartoons on telly, women hate mice. There was this one on last week—’

  ‘And I think it’s only in cartoons you’ll find that,’ Al said gently, not wanting to hurt his friend.

  ‘He’s right, Eddie,’ said Jon. ‘When I was at Middle School, our class had a couple of pet mice in a cage, had to be taken home and looked after over weekends and holidays. It was always the girls who wanted to do it.’

  ‘An’ I can’t see their mums being too happy about it if women really don’t like mice,’ Al added.

  ‘But some women might,’ said Eddie, persisting with his one good idea of the day. ‘Miss might.’

  Al shook his head. ‘Nice try but we need something that everyone hates, something that no one would want anywhere near them. It won’t work, otherwise.’

  Even as he finished speaking, it came to him. He spun round to tell Jon, the one member of the gang he could count on to understand him at times like this. But Jon, too, was looking amazed, like he’d just received a sudden clout from an idea he should have seen coming all along. They shouted it together, one single word that was the Great Answer they’d been looking for.

  ‘RATS!’

  Silence. Then Tony was speaking again. He sounded dubious, uncertain.

  ‘Rats,’ he said. ‘You’re gonna use rats in Cookery.’

  ‘Not real ones, yer berk!’ said Al. ‘Weren’t you listening to me just now? We use pretend ones.’

  ‘Pretend ones,’ Tony repeated slowly. ‘Why not use real ones?’

  ‘I hate to say this,’ said Jon, ‘but they ain’t exactly the cleanest animals in the world. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t want to touch one.’

  ‘Nobody would,’ said Al. ‘And that’s what makes them so perfect for what we want to do. It’s so obvious, I don’t know why we didn’t think of it sooner.’

  ‘Yeah but where are we gonna get pretend rats?’ said Tony. ‘I mean, how “pretend” do you want them to be?’

  ‘Pretend enough so we don’t hurt no one but real enough to give old Palm Trees a fright.’

  ‘Ah, now I get it! So when she sinks her teeth into what she thinks is a nice, juicy Cornish Pasty—’

  ‘—she gets a mouthful of what she then thinks is really rat,’ Al finished for him. ‘Like it?’

  ‘Love it!’ said Tony.

  ‘Let’s do it!’ said Jon.

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ said Eddie, still unsure but prepared to go along with whatever the gang wanted.

  ‘We’ll need to make proper rat dishes, though,’ Al went on. ‘It’s no good just sticking a rat in something and giving it to her. It’s got to have a proper rat name.’

  ‘You mean like RATatouille?’ said Tony.

  ‘Yeah but we can do better than that. We don’t need to just stick to rats.’

  ‘What, you mean like Irish SHREW?’

  They laughed.

  ‘Yeah, or a salad with MOLEslaw!’

  ‘Hey, how about beans on STOAT?’

  Now they were really laughing. This idea was getting better and better.

  ‘Don’t forget pudding,’ said Jon. ‘You’ve got to have pudding.’

  ‘Okay, how about a dish of MICE pudding?’

  ‘Or MINKS pie?’

  ‘Or chocolate MOUSE?’

  ‘Nah, that one’s too obvious.’

  ‘Okay, what about breakfast? What would you have for breakfast?’

  They thought and thought but the only thing anyone could come up with was WEASELbix. Anyway, Al decided eventually, it didn’t matter ’cos they were going to be cooking proper dishes, not just taking things from packets an’ bunging them in the oven.

  ‘We’ll think up a few more as we go on,’ he added, ‘see what else we can come up with. So what do you think? Good idea or what?’

  It was indeed a good idea, they had to admit that. More than that, it was a Great Idea. But as with all good ideas and Great Ideas, one small but highly relevant question had yet to be answered.

  ‘So where are we gonna get these pretend rats?’ said Eddie. ‘I mean, without them, we’re sunk before we even get started.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s the only problem,’ Al mused. ‘I ain’t actually got around to working that one out yet.’

  ‘We could buy them,’ said Jon helpfully.

  ‘Yeah? Like where?’ said Tony. ‘You can get stuffed dogs an’ cats an’ all kinds of fluffy bunnies an’ things but rats? Ain’t no one gonna buy a rat.’

  ‘You got that right’ said Al. ‘An’ anyway, what about the money? Has anyone got any?’

  Three vaguely negative murmurs answered him. He hadn’t really needed to ask it.

  ‘What about if we got someone to make them?’ said Jon.

  ‘Yeah, possible. Know anyone?’

  ‘My mum can sew but I don’t think she’d go along with what we’re planning.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell her.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I just walk up to her and say Mum-would-you-make-me-some-rats-please? She’d think I’d gone nuts.’

  ‘Yeah, she probably would, at that. What about you, Tony? What about your sister?’

  Tony looked up, panic in his eyes. ‘What about my sister?’

  ‘Would she do it?—if we told her why, of course.’

  ‘Er…well…me an’ my sister aren’t exactly speaking right now.’

  They looked at him, all of them. They knew what was coming.

  ‘Okay,’ said Al wearily, ‘what did you do this time?’

  ‘Nothing much.’

  ‘I bet you didn’t. Come on, out with it.’

  ‘Okay, okay! I just put a plastic poo on her bed and told her the dog had been sleeping there.’
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  ‘Neat!’ said Jon. ‘What did she do?’

  ‘What any big sister would do. She took one look at it, screamed and yelled at me to clear it up.’

  ‘An’ did you?’

  ‘Too right. I just picked it up an’ put it in me pocket. Went spare, she did.’

  They laughed, long and loud. Big sisters could be useful, sometimes, especially when the mood needed to be lightened a little.

  ‘Nice one,’ said Al. ‘But I guess that means she’ll be out of it for this one.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ said Tony vaguely. ‘It’s her birthday next week. Maybe if we suck up to her a bit…you know what I’m saying?’

  ‘Could be. Tell you what, let’s go and see her now, sound her out, yeah?’

  ‘If we must. She’ll be in from school by now. But if anything goes wrong, see I get a decent funeral, okay?’

  They bundled out of Tony’s room and paused outside the next bedroom door. Taped to it was a small poster, hand-written, neat. It read:

  WELCOME

  You are about to enter a haven of tranquillity.

  If you come in a spirit of peace,

  harmony and friendship, please knock and enter.

  But if you come with anything less than these

  noble qualities in mind then

  TAKE YOUR LITTLE BROTHER BUTT

  AND BEAT IT!