Read Online Just Stupid! by Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton - Free Book Online

chandelier. The chandelier blows apart and beads of polished glass rain down over the restaurant. It is a beautiful end to a brilliant performance.
       Natasha stops, straightens her shoulders, turns around and gives us a look even more withering than one of Mum’s withering looks. Then she turns and walks out of the restaurant without saying a word.
       Wow.
       What a professional.
       What dignity.
       What poise.
       You’ve got to hand it to her. She’s had her hair set on fire, beer thrown in her face, fruit salad tipped all over her, broken up with her boyfriend and just taken a direct hit in the side of the head from a champagne cork, and yet she can still walk out of the restaurant with style.
       She’s a great actress. There’s no doubt about it. And if I ever see her again I’m going to tell her that.

 

    ‘m standing at the entrance to the park, trying to decide whether to go in. I know it’s dangerous but I want to get home before the rain starts again and I’ll get there a lot quicker if I cut through the park. I hear thunder. I decide to risk it.
       I walk through the gate.
       I’m not sure if this was such a good idea after all. There are snails all over the gravel path. I have to walk very slowly to avoid stepping on them. If there’s one sound I hate, it’s the sound of a snail shell being crushed. I reckon I hate the sound even more than the snail does.
       But so far so good.
       I’ve almost made it to the pond in the middle of the park. No crushed snails and, even better, no sign of my enemy. I look up at the old gum tree just to make sure.

       But it’s there.
       The mad magpie.
       Waiting.
       For me.
       I look around to make sure there is nobody else in the park. The place is deserted. That’s good.
       I open my bag, take out an ice-cream container and put it on my head. I know it’s not a good look, but it’s better than having a hole pecked in the top of my skull. That’s not a particularly good look either.
       I take a deep breath and start running.
       There is an explosion of swooping, flapping and clicking around my ears.
       Even though I’ve got my container helmet on I’m still scared. What if the magpie goes for my eyes? What if it pecks them out and feeds them to its babies? I’ll be able to see myself being eaten.
       The magpie seems to be everywhere at once.
       There is an especially hard whack on the side of the container.

       I stagger sideways.
       CRUNCH!
       I look down at a grey and brown pasty mess.
       A snail! I stood on a snail!
       I look up at the magpie. It’s getting ready to swoop me again.
       ‘All right,’ I yell, ‘you asked for it!’
       I reach into my bag and pull out my gun.
       The magpie is swooping down fast.
       I point the gun at it. My hand is shaking. I steady it with my other hand and squeeze the trigger.
       POW! POW! POW!
       The magpie veers steeply into the air and flies back towards its tree. It’s only a cap gun, but the magpie doesn’t know that. I blow the end of the gun and slide it into my pocket.
       I kneel down and look at the snail. It is blowing bubbles. It’s alive.
       I’ve crushed its shell, but not completely. The basic shape is still there. Maybe . . . just maybe . . . I could put it back together again. Like a jigsaw puzzle. It’s worth a try.
       ‘I’m really sorry,’ I say. ‘But don’t worry—I think I can rebuild you.’
       The snail blows a little green bubble.

    That’s a good sign. Well, I think it is—sometimes it’s hard to tell with snails.
       There’s a picnic table near the pond. I can use it for the operation. I take my library card out of my pocket. I slide it slowly underneath the snail and lift it up.
       The magpie is nowhere to be seen, but I put my hand over the top of the snail to protect it, just in case the magpie tries to launch a surprise attack. I run, crouching at the same