The Stinky Street Stories

by Alex Ratt

  Now Nerf was waving wildly and pointing across the field.

  I followed the direction of his finger and saw an ENORMOUS bull. He was staring right at us . . . and he looked angry! His nostrils were flaring and he was pawing the ground.

  Then the bull lowered his head. He was going to charge!

  ‘Run!’ I screamed, and the signal must have reached Nerf clearly, because as I took off he was right beside me.

  The bull chased us to the right.

  And then he chased us to the left.

  He chased us in a circle.

  He chased us in a triangle.

  And he chased us in a zigzag.

  The bull just wasn’t giving up. It seemed like he was really determined to get us. I couldn’t understand it. What had we ever done to him?

  I looked at Nerf running beside me. And then it dawned on me: the pumpkin looked like a big bull head and the antennas looked just like horns! The bull thought we were bulls too!

  I pulled off the pumpkin head and threw it away, then gestured to Nerf to do the same.

  ‘Look!’ I called to the bull. ‘We’re not bulls—we’re people!’

  But the bull kept charging.

  ‘He’s still coming!’ shouted Nerf.

  We were almost at the tractor now.

  ‘I know!’ I said. ‘We can hide in the haystack!’

  With the bull right on our heels we dived into the hay.

  It was all hot and dark inside the haystack. I could hear the bull snorting in anger on the other side as he looked for us. It was clear he had no idea where we’d disappeared to.

  ‘That was close!’ said Nerf. ‘It was a great idea to hide in here.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘^at’s why they call me Br—’ And then I realised my awful mistake. Without the pumpkin head, I could smell the horrible reek again—and it was closer and stronger than ever before.

  ‘Oh no!’ I said.

  ‘It’s the smell,’ Nerf whimpered. ‘Ripe and rotten.’

  ‘And I think I know where it’s coming from,’ I told him.

  The terrible truth had hit me. The haystack wasn’t a haystack at all. It was a big pile of manure.

  ‘We’re standing in it!’ I said.

  And then everything went black.

  I don’t know how long we were in there, hiding from the bull. I think I must have passed out from the smell. All I know is that the next thing I was aware of was Mum’s voice.

  ‘Brian? Where are you? Nerf?’

  We stuck our heads out of the manure.

  Mum and Old McStinky were standing a little way off.

  ‘There you are,’ Mum said. ‘We didn’t know where you’d got to.’

  ‘I thought we’d find you boys somewhere near the tractor,’ said Great-Uncle McStinky. ‘But what are you doing in the manure?’

  ‘There was a bull,’ I said. ‘He charged us!’

  Old McStinky laughed. ‘You weren’t scared of Cecil, were you? He wouldn’t hurt a fly.’ He looked over his shoulder.

  I looked too. Cecil was chewing on some daisies. He stared at me for a few seconds, blinked, then ducked his head again.

  ‘You’re just a big pussycat, aren’t you, Cecil?’ said Great-Uncle McStinky.

  ‘Come out of there, boys,’ said Mum.

  So out we came, all covered in manure. We walked over to them.

  ‘Hooeee!’ said Old McStinky. ‘Something smells RIPE and ROTTEN!’

  ‘Something really REEKS,’ Mum agreed, wrinkling her nose.

  Nerf and I looked at each other unhappily.

  The RIPE and

  was us.

  I was out in the front yard playing with Princess Pookie and waiting for Nerf. He was meant to come to my place after visiting his grandmother in East Stinky, but he was late.

  Suddenly, to my surprise, an enormous purple bird came tearing down Stinky Street on a bike.

  I was even more surprised when the enormous purple bird steered his bike into our driveway.

  I was even more even more surprised when the bird squawked, ‘Brian!’

  You see, the bird had Nerf’s voice.

  And when I looked closely I saw that the bird was riding Nerf’s bike.

  ‘How did you get Nerf’s bike?’ I demanded. ‘And his voice?’

  ‘It is me!’ squawked the bird.

  ‘Nerf?’ I said. ‘Is that really you?’

  The bird nodded sadly and a few feathers floated to the ground.

  ‘But . . . but you’re a big purple bird! What happened?’

  Nerf slumped to the ground with a moan. ‘Sweet Street happened.’

  ‘You went down Sweet Street?’ I said. I couldn’t believe it. ‘But you know how dangerous it is!’ I looked at his feathered body. ‘Was it . . . was it Little Ellie?’

  ‘Little Ellie and her gang,’ Nerf confirmed. ‘I was running late, so I thought I’d take a shortcut down Sweet Street. And I almost made it too! I was nearly at the corner of Stinky Street when Little Ellie called out to me. She said she had a note from my mother.’

  ‘Why would Little Ellie have a note from your mother?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t know—but I’m not going to ignore a note from my mother, am I?’

  I put my head in my hands. ‘Oh no, no, no. Nerf, you fell for the oldest trick in the book. There wasn’t really a note from your mother at all, was there?’

  ‘No,’ Nerf admitted.

  I shook my head. I never would have fallen for a trick like that. I guess that’s why everyone calls me ‘Brain’ and they call Nerf ‘Nerf’.

  ‘So what happened next?’ I asked.

  ‘I rode over to get the note—and Little Ellie and her friends had stretched a skipping rope across the driveway. I fell off my bike and all of a sudden I was surrounded.’

  Uh-oh . . . ‘And then?’

  Nerf shuddered. ‘Little Ellie said, “Let’s make this Stinky Street boy sweet.” And they drizzled me with honey.’

  It was worse than I had feared. ‘And then?’

  Nerf just groaned.

  ‘Come on, Nerf,’ I encouraged him. ‘You can tell me.’

  Nerf’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘They had this big bucket of purple feathers . . . and then . . . well look at me!’ He flapped his purple-feathered arms.

  Nerf lay down on the lawn. ‘Please, Brian,’ he begged. ‘Hose me down.’

  ‘I will, old friend,’ I said. ‘I will.’

  I turned on the hose and blasted Nerf with water.

  It took a while, but eventually all the feathers and honey were washed away. I looked at my best friend, wet and shivering on the ground.

  ‘Nerf,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, Brian?’

  ‘We are not going to take this lying down.’

  Nerf sat up. ‘We’re not?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘We are not going to let those Sweet Street girls get away with this.’

  Nerf stood up. ‘We’re not?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘We are going to get our revenge.’

  ‘We are?’ said Nerf hopefully.

  ‘We are. This means war, Nerf. It’s Stinky versus Sweet. And Stinky is going to WIN.’

  ‘That’s great!’ said Nerf, sounding happy for the first time since he’d arrived. ‘So what are we going to do?’

  ‘I’ve got a plan,’ I said.

  ‘Cool,’ said Nerf. ‘What’s the plan?’

  ‘The plan is . . .’ I said.

  ‘Yes?’ said Nerf.

  ‘The plan is . . .’ I said.

  ‘Yes?’ said Nerf.

  ‘The plan is . . .’ And suddenly I had an idea. An idea so cunning, so devious, so perfect that I began to laugh.

  ‘What?’ said Nerf. ‘What is it? What’s the plan?’

  ‘Nerf,’ I said, ‘we are going to make those Sweet Street girls stinky!’

  And then we both laughed like evil geniuses.

  When we’d finished laughing, Nerf said, ‘How are we going to do that?’
>
  ‘Follow me,’ I said.

  As we walked through the lounge room and up the stairs, I was already having second thoughts. Not about my plan—I knew it was a good one. The problem was, we were going to need some help.

  At the top of the stairs I turned right.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Nerf, his voice panicked. ‘Why are we going this way? Your bedroom’s to the left.’

  ‘It’s the plan,’ I said. ‘We can’t do it alone. We’re going to have to ask . . .’ I nodded at the door in front of us. The one with the sign that read:

  NO BOYS ALLOWED.

  THAT MEANS YOU,

  BRIAN.

  ‘You’re going to ask Brain?’ said Nerf.

  ‘I’ve told you, Nerf—her name is Brenda,’ I snapped. ‘I’m the one everyone calls Brain.’

  Nerf looked puzzled. ‘Who calls you—?’

  I raised my hand and knocked on the door.

  ‘No, wait!’ said Nerf. ‘There must be another way. Maybe we can come up with another plan.’

  The door opened slowly to reveal my sister.

  ‘Can’t you read?’ she said, pointing to the sign.

  ‘It’s important,’ I told her.

  ‘I doubt it,’ she said.

  She turned to look at Nerf. ‘Why is he wet?’

  ‘That’s what I want to talk to you about,’ I said.

  ‘And why has he got feathers in his hair?’

  I turned to look. ‘Oops, sorry, Nerf—I must have missed some.’ I turned back to my sister. ‘I want to talk to you about that too. Can we come in?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t want him dripping all over my bedroom floor. We can talk here. And make it fast.’

  In a rush, we told her everything: the shortcut down Sweet Street, the skipping rope, the honey, the feathers . . .

  THE SKIPPING ROPE

  THE HONEY

  THE FEATHERS

  By the end, my sister was nodding thoughtfully. ‘Tell me again what Little Ellie said, Nerf.’

  Nerf swallowed. ‘She said, “Let’s make this Stinky Street boy sweet.”’

  ‘I see,’ said Brenda. She had crossed her arms and was tapping her foot. ‘So she thinks Sweet Street is better than Stinky Street, does she?’ She frowned. ‘That Little Ellie is getting too big for her boots.’

  I recognised the look on Brenda’s face: any minute, I knew, smoke would start coming out of her ears. You did not want to make my sister mad. I was sure glad I wasn’t Little Ellie.

  ‘And you want my help, do you?’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Please,’ Nerf whispered.

  ‘So what are you proposing—an alliance?’

  ‘Temporary,’ I said.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’m in. What do you want me to do?’

  And then I told her and Nerf the plan: we would make the world’s stinkiest perfume, and then we would trick Little Ellie into wearing it.

  When I had finished, Nerf was looking at me admiringly and even my sister looked impressed.

  ‘You,’ she said to Nerf. ‘Go to the bathroom and get dry.’

  ‘You.’ She pointed at me. ‘Start collecting the raw materials. I’ll set up the chemistry set.’

  I went off to gather the stinkiest things I could find.

  First, the kitchen. I took a large mixing bowl from the cupboard, then went to the fridge. Right at the very back I found a container of Bolognese sauce that had been there a long, long time. At least, I think it was Bolognese sauce. It was hard to tell because it was all lumpy and covered in a weird green and white crust. Perfect.

  Next, I went into the laundry. As usual, Death Ray Robotron had vomited up her breakfast. Excellent. I scraped up some tuna vomit and added it to the bowl.

  Then I went to my room. There was always something disgusting in my schoolbag.

  Mouldy sandwich: check.

  Rotten fruit: check.

  I added them to my bowl.

  I was about to leave my room when I gave a last sniff. Aha! I knew there was something else. A strange sour smell . . . But where was it coming from?

  I sniffed in the wardrobe. It was pretty rank in there, but not sour.

  I sniffed on top of the wardrobe.

  Dusty.

  I sniffed under the wardrobe.

  Also dusty.

  Where else could the smell be coming from?

  The only other place I could think of was under the bed.

  I lay down on my stomach and looked.

  Success!

  There was a bowl of cereal. At least it had been once. Now the milk was all curdled.

  I tipped it into the mixing bowl.

  Next stop: my parents’ room. I spotted the T-shirt my dad had worn for his run that morning, still wet with sweat. I squeezed a few drops of sweat into the bowl.

  By now, the smell coming from the bowl was vile. I had to walk with one hand holding the bowl as far away from me as possible, and the other hand holding my nose.

  I went down the hall to Brenda’s room. Nerf was waiting for me at the door.

  ‘Yuck!’ he shouted as I approached with the bowl. He slapped his hand over his nose. ‘What’s in there?’

  ‘Crusty green Bolognese, tuna vomit, mouldy sandwich, rotten fruit, curdled cereal milk and Dad’s sweat.’

  ‘Foul!’ said Nerf. ‘Those Sweet Street girls are going to be sorry.’

  I knocked on Brenda’s door.

  She opened it. She was wearing a white coat, gloves and goggles, and had a mask over her mouth and nose.

  She looked at the bowl. ‘Good work,’ she said. ‘Now, you two are going to need masks.’

  ‘But we don’t have masks,’ I said.

  ‘No masks, no entry. The fumes are going to be very strong and I don’t want you fainting in my bedroom.’

  ‘Hang on.’ I ran back to my room and rummaged around in the wardrobe until I’d found two pairs of socks.

  Back at Brenda’s door, I handed one pair to Nerf. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘Shove these socks up your nose.’

  He looked at them doubtfully. ‘Are you sure they’re clean?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure.’

  I put the top of one sock in my left nostril, and the top of the other sock in the right nostril. It wasn’t comfortable, but it worked.

  Brenda waved the bowl under my nose. ‘What can you smell?’ she said.

  ‘Feet,’ I said. Hmmm . . . I’d thought they were clean.

  ‘Gross!’ said Nerf as he inserted the socks. ‘It’s like having your feet up my nose, Brian.’

  ‘It’s better than having that up your nose,’ I said, pointing to the bowl.

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘All right, you can come in,’ said Brenda.

  Her chemistry set was on her dresser. As we watched, she began adding the contents of the bowl to various beakers, all connected with tubes. Then she lit a small burner.

  I can’t quite describe what happened next.

  There was a lot of bubbling ...

  and a few flashes of light ...

  and one very loud BANG!

  Finally Brenda said, ‘Okay, I think that’s done it. We’ll just let it simmer for a bit. Come back here in an hour with two appropriate flasks.’ She opened the door. ‘You can leave now.’

  Mum was coming up the stairs as we left Brenda’s room.

  ‘It’s so nice to see you all playing together,’ she said. ‘But why have the boys got socks up their noses?’

  ‘It’s the latest thing,’ said my sister.

  ‘Really? How interesting,’ said Mum.

  (She always believed anything Brenda told her.)

  Then she wrinkled her nose. ‘And there seems to be a funny smell coming from your room, dear. Or is that the socks?’

  ‘Science experiment,’ said Brenda.

  ‘Oh, of course,’ said Mum.

  (See?)

  Brenda closed her door, and Mum went into her room.

  I turned to N
erf. ‘You heard what Brenda said: we need appropriate flasks.’

  ‘Where are we going to get those?’ asked Nerf.

  ‘Good question.’ I thought for a minute. ‘I know—the bathroom.’

  In the bathroom I opened the cabinet and scanned the shelves. I took a bottle of cough medicine and a bottle of antiseptic and emptied them into the sink. ‘These’ll do,’ I said.

  ‘Now we need to make labels,’ I told Nerf. ‘You make one and I’ll make the other.’

  We went and sat at the kitchen table with some paper and my textas, and made some really cool perfume labels.

  We glued them to the bottles.

  ‘These look awesome!’ said Nerf.

  I had to agree. I’d never seen such epic- looking perfume bottles ever.

  By the time we were done, the hour was up.

  ‘Let’s take them to Brenda,’ I said.

  We went upstairs and knocked on her door.

  She opened it, still wearing her mask, and said, ‘Have you got the flasks?’

  ‘Sure do,’ I said proudly.

  We held them up.

  She looked at them in silence for a moment, then said, ‘What are you—idiots?’

  ‘We—’ I began.

  ‘That wasn’t a question,’ said my sister.

  ‘It sounded like one.’

  ‘Well it wasn’t. It was me reminding myself never to work with you idiots again.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’ I said.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘I hardly think Little Ellie will want to wear perfume that comes in bottles like those.’

  She slammed the door.

  Nerf and I looked at our bottles again.

  ‘Maybe these perfume bottles look too awesome,’ I said.

  ‘So do you think Brain means we should make the bottles look more girly?’ asked Nerf.

  ‘I’m Brain,’ I reminded him.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Whose genius plan is this?’ I said.

  ‘It’s your genius plan,’ he said.

  ‘Exactly. Now, what do girls like?’ I asked.