Pranks a Lot!

by Martin Howard

  Bitzer shook his head, sadly. What was the world coming to? He heard a faint droning sound in the distance. Turning the page, he saw that the corner shop was having a sale … on corners. He scratched his head. As he did so, a squelching noise came from his hat.

  Puzzled, Bitzer scratched his head again.

  A red blob trickled down his face and plopped onto the open newspaper. Bitzer stared at it in shock. He was bleeding.

  Bitzer’s heart thumped. He felt woozy. He needed an ambulance…

  Then his nose twitched at the scent. Gingerly, he dabbed the blob with his paw and tasted it. Bitzer’s eyes widened. The red blob wasn’t blood: it was raspberry jam. He wasn’t bleeding: he was raspberry jamming! There was raspberry jam in his hat. How had it got there?

  Bitzer stared as another blob dripped onto his paper, and then he jumped up with a start. He would solve the mystery later. Right now, he had to get to a slice of toast before all the jam leaked away.

  The droning sound was louder now.

  Bubbles of air rose to the surface. The wasps buzzed above for a moment or two, but they quickly gave up and swarmed back towards the Farmer’s breakfast.

  Bitzer’s head emerged from the pond, like a monster rising from the deep. Covered in slime, he spat out a fountain of water. Perched on top of his head was a lily pad, upon which sat a confused frog. Peering down, the frog stamped on Bitzer’s head with a webbed foot and hopped back into the water with a plop.

  Laughter rang out all across Mossy Bottom Farm.

  Wiping pond scum from his eyes, Bitzer growled. He and Shaun had been even, but Shaun had gone ahead and pranked him again.

  This meant war.

  CHAPTER FIVE:

  THE UN-FUNNY BONE

  Prank followed prank as long summer day followed long summer day. In retaliation for the jam, Bitzer burst a blown-up paper bag behind the Farmer while he was shearing Shaun. Almost jumping out of his skin, the Farmer shaved a wiggly line of baldness into Shaun’s fleece.

  Shaun pranked the sheepdog right back by slipping a mousetrap into his tea mug.

  But, slowly, the laughter dried up. The Flock watched in wonder, then bewilderment, then worry. The pranks were getting out of hand. Someone was going to get seriously hurt.

  In revenge for the mousetrap, Bitzer poured pepper into Shaun’s bed. The next morning Shaun awoke with a terrible case of the itches, certain he had fleas. Keeping a careful eye on Bitzer, he had found a bottle of FLEEZAWAY in the shed. But when the Flock had hosed him down, Shaun realized that Bitzer had poured away the anti-flea medicine and replaced it with EXTRA VOLUME AND BOUNCE shampoo. Shaun’s fleece swelled up like a balloon, and for the rest of the day he waddled round the farm looking like a cross between a cloud and a poodle.

  Under cover of darkness, Shaun tied Bitzer’s kennel to the tractor’s towbar. Bitzer didn’t notice the rope until his home shot past him at high speed during his morning rounds. Horrified, the sheepdog dropped his clipboard and tried to stop the runaway kennel by throwing himself on top of it. For the next twenty minutes, the animals stared as the sheepdog rode his kennel like a rodeo bull-rider as it bounced and jolted up and down the field behind the tractor.

  Bitzer and Shaun became shifty. Both spent their days eyeing each other, constantly on the lookout for the next prank. Shaun chalked complicated drawings on the blackboard. Bitzer neglected his work, scribbling plan after plan on his clipboard. If their paths crossed, the sheep and sheepdog walked on by with noses in the air. Then, as soon as they were out of each other’s sight, they returned to plotting.

  Shaun spent a secretive day in the barn making a fake, hollow bone with wet paper, paste and white paint. When it dried, he filled it with rabbit droppings and left it outside Bitzer’s kennel. Sniggering, he watched as the sheepdog chewed into it and subsequently spent three hours trying to scrape rabbit poo off his tongue.

  The next morning, Shaun found a large present waiting outside the barn, with a note from Bitzer saying he was sorry for all the pranks. A tear in his eye, Shaun reached for the giant bow on top—and bleated in terror when a huge gorilla leapt out at him, baring its teeth and beating its chest in fury. The gorilla chased him twice round the farm, past staring animals, until Shaun scampered up a tree.

  Hearing hoots of laughter below, Shaun glared down and saw Bitzer shaking off the head of the Farmer’s Halloween gorilla costume and collapsing onto the grass, clutching his stomach. Shaking his head sadly, Shaun clung to a branch and gazed around at the farm. None of the other animals even watched the pranks any more. By the hen house, the chickens were more entertained scratching in the dirt. Timmy was using Hazel’s kite as a hang-glider. Even the pigs didn’t bother to look, sunbathing happily in the pools of mud that kept their skin looking young and reduced the fine lines of ageing.

  Shaun sighed to himself, remembering his relief when he had read the apologetic note on Bitzer’s “present”. The pranks were out of control. They weren’t fun any more. Worse: they were ruining his friendship with Bitzer. With a sorrowful bleat, Shaun climbed down from the tree.

  Growling, Bitzer scrambled to his feet and backed away. He didn’t know what trickery Shaun was planning next, but he figured he’d better keep his distance. Shaun sat in the grass, put his head in his hooves and bleated. He was tired of pranks. Pointing to the other animals enjoying themselves, he bleated again. Didn’t Bitzer think it was time to stop too?

  Bitzer blinked at him suspiciously, then whuffed. Stop the pranks?

  Shaun nodded.

  Slowly, the sheepdog nodded. Did that mean he had won?

  Shaun shrugged. He didn’t care. Turning his back on Bitzer, he trotted away to join the hang-gliding fun.

  Sweating in the gorilla costume, Bitzer watched him go. His eyes narrowed. Did Shaun think he was completely stupid? Pretending to stop the pranks, Bitzer was certain, was all part of Shaun’s next prank.

  CHAPTER SIX:

  SPOT

  THE

  PLOT

  The days that followed were full of sunshine, and giggles, and kite hang-gliding, and wheelbarrow races, and sheep jousting, and lazing around in the meadow. The only thing that worried Shaun was Bitzer. The sheepdog had started acting more strangely than ever. Every time Shaun turned round, he caught Bitzer peering at him. Bitzer would immediately duck below a wall or look away quickly, shading his eyes, whistling and gazing up at clouds floating past.

  On one occasion, Shaun had caught him hiding under an old tin bath in the barn. Bitzer gurgled in embarrassment when Shaun lifted it, and patted the ground as if he had just finished burying a bone.

  Meanwhile, as the days passed, Bitzer became more and more convinced that Shaun was sneakily planning something big… Well, it seemed Shaun had forgotten that sheepdogs were brimming with intelligence and cunning. Whenever Shaun decided to launch his prank, he – Bitzer – would be ready. In the meantime, he was keeping a very beady eye on Shaun.

  Late one night, Bitzer crept into the barn and tiptoed past the sleeping sheep to check out the blackboard, which had been covered in a sheet. He lifted the fabric.

  The black surface of the board had been wiped clean of chalk; there wasn’t a mark on it.

  Mighty suspicious, Bitzer growled softly to himself. Clearly, this was proof that Shaun was carefully covering his tracks.

  The next day, Bitzer peeped round the corner of the farmhouse and saw Shaun rummaging in the shed. What was he looking for? Bitzer ducked back as Shaun emerged and trotted back towards the meadow, dragging a hose. Narrowing his eyes, Bitzer nodded to himself. As Bitzer had suspected all along, Shaun was secretly building some kind of water-spraying prank contraption.

  Bitzer’s suspicions were confirmed the next morning as the sheep filed across the lane to their breakfast. Shaun’s turn came to walk past Bitzer, and he looked up and gave the sheepdog a big smile and a wink.

  Bitzer stared, gurgling to himself in disbelief. Shaun was so sure that Bitzer was clueless about his d
irty, underhand prank plans that he was openly smiling at him. And winking too. Of all the barefaced, brazen cheek! Bitzer ground his teeth together. Shaun might think Bitzer was a fool, but he’d soon learn not to mess with Bitzer … the hard way. Bitzer would prank Shaun before Shaun had a chance to prank him.

  Chuckling the famous chuckle of a sheepdog hatching a plot, Bitzer closed the gate carefully. The sheep would be busy for a while. He had plenty of time to fetch the Farmer’s shovel from the shed and prepare a surprise that Shaun would never forget.

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  LAUGH TILL

  IT HURTS

  Moonlight shone through holes in the roof and pooled on the floor, giving the barn a soft glow. Shaun brushed his teeth, then spat into a bucket, smiling to himself.

  It had been another classic summer day on Mossy Bottom Farm. A city family had spread their picnic in one corner of the meadow, before the sight of Shirley rumbling towards them like a speeding tank had sent them screaming. Shaun could still taste the cake. Afterwards, the Flock had played Water Pistol Cowboy and a new game Shaun had invented, called Flicking Cowpats at the Pigs.

  Shaun yawned. It had been a grand day, and now he was looking forward to tomorrow. He had plans for a cowpat-flicking machine that would double the fun. He trotted over to his bed, closed his eyes, put his hooves behind his head and let himself fall back into the soft pile of straw.

  KERR-ASSSSSHHH!

  With a terrified bleat, Shaun fell straight through his bed and into a deep hole beneath.

  SPLOSH!

  At the bottom was a tin bath, now only half-full of cold water and pond slime.

  Spitting out a stream of dirty water, Shaun surfaced, blinking. Above him, silhouetted in the moonlight, a darkened figure danced about in glee, howling with laughter and pointing down at him.

  Shaun scowled.

  Bitzer.

  Bitzer had broken the truce.

  The sheepdog moonwalked round the top of the hole and punched the air, whuffing. He was the winner. Shaun had been pranked yet again!

  In reply, Shaun let out a pathetic and painful bleat. Bitzer ignored him, jigging about in triumph.

  More faces appeared at the top of the hole. Hazel, the Twins, Nuts, Timmy’s Mum in her age-defying night-time face mask, Shirley… Soon the whole Flock was crowded round, peering down at Shaun.

  A loud bleat interrupted Bitzer’s victory moonwalk. Stumbling to a halt, he looked up to see a row of angry faces. Timmy’s Mum bleated again. She jabbed a hoof into his chest and then pointed down the hole.

  Bitzer’s laughter trailed off. Following the pointing hoof with his eyes, he saw Shaun splashing about, trying to climb out of the bath. With a defeated bleat, Shaun sank back into the smelly water, clutching his leg.

  Bitzer looked around. The sheep glared back at him. Shirley crossed her arms and tapped a hoof in disgust. Hazel tutted, shaking her head. Noses in the air, the Twins turned their backs on the sheepdog. Nuts stared down the hole in wonder. He would never have guessed that the barn had a secret indoor swimming pool!

  Once again, Shaun bleated in pain.

  The realization that Shaun was hurt filled Bitzer with horror. Whuffing, he pointed sheep to every corner of the barn. He was going to need ropes, and a ladder, and safety equipment. Whatever the danger, he was going into the hole himself, and he wasn’t coming out without Shaun!

  A few minutes later, after lifting a sopping Shaun up to the barn floor, Bitzer snapped on a surgical mask made from a handkerchief and a length of hairy string. He held out a paw. Hazel passed him a large, rusty saw.

  Sitting up, Shaun bleated in terror.

  Bitzer looked at the saw, rolled his eyes, and then gave Hazel an annoyed whuff. He put the saw down in a safe spot on the floor and instead got to work with soapy water, sticks and a torn-up sheet.

  Before long, Shaun was spotlessly clean. With his bandaged leg looking like an enormous white sausage, he lay back in a soft bed that Bitzer had arranged, propped up on comfy pillows. By Shaun’s side stood an old tin can filled with daisies and dandelions. Bitzer had been unable to find grapes, but he had pulled a bunch of funny-looking radishes from the Farmer’s vegetable garden instead.

  Alongside them was a get-well-soon card that the sheepdog had hurriedly drawn with crayons. On the front was a picture of Bitzer with a tear in his eye and his arm around Shaun. Underneath, Bitzer had written BEST FRIENDS FOREVER.

  Closing his eyes, Shaun let out a small snore and snuggled further down while Bitzer tucked him in and tiptoed away. As the barn door squeaked closed behind him, Shaun opened his eyes.

  Putting a hoof to his lips, he gave the watching Flock a huge wink.

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  SICKBED SHAUN

  Later, Bitzer came to visit his injured friend. With a groan, Shaun lay back on his pillows and turned his head to one side. He didn’t want Bitzer to see him in such pain. At his bedside, the sheepdog hopped from one paw to another in agonies of guilt. He whuffed, mournfully. Was there anything – anything – he could fetch that might make Shaun feel better?

  The corners of Shaun’s mouth twitched. Hiding the smile under another groan, he looked around at the empty plates, cups and glasses that surrounded his bed. He bleated. Bitzer had already been sooooo kind; he couldn’t possibly ask for anything else.

  Bitzer’s tail wagged. He panted eagerly. Whatever Shaun wanted, Bitzer would go and fetch it.

  Giving in, Shaun grabbed Bitzer’s clipboard and started scribbling.

  Bitzer’s eyes widened as Shaun turned the page and tapped it. The list continued overleaf. Bitzer whuffed nervously. This was a lot…

  Squeezing his eyes closed in pain, Shaun bleated weakly, waving a hoof towards the door. He understood. Bitzer was a busy dog with much better things to do than look after him. Shaun would be fine. In fact, he should probably get up. With an enormous effort, he tried to stand … before flopping back against the pillows with a fresh bleat of pain.

  Bitzer yelped, pushing Shaun back into bed and fussing with the blankets until he was comfortably tucked in again. Wagging a stern paw, he gestured for Shaun to stay in bed. Bitzer would find some way to bring him everything on the list. Peering down at Shaun’s list, he muttered to himself. He would have to break open his piggy bank…

  As the sheepdog walked away, scratching his head, Shaun snickered to himself and settled back against his soft pillows with a copy of SHEEP GOSSIP magazine. Being hurt was shaping up to be even more fun than flicking cow plop at the pigs.

  By bedtime, Shaun could hardly be seen behind a pile of empty pizza boxes, ice-cream tubs, sweet wrappers and popcorn buckets.

  Happy burps echoed round the barn as Bitzer put away the projector and screen. How to Grow a Prize-Winning Turnip still wasn’t a great movie, but at least this time Bitzer hadn’t drooled and snored through the ending. Remembering to give a little whimper of pain, Shaun pulled the covers up under his chin. He was feeling sleepy now. Pointing towards the door, he waggled a hoof. Bitzer should go to bed too…

  Bitzer nodded, wiping his forehead with one paw. Nursing Shaun all day had been tiring, and he still had his evening rounds to do.

  With a bleat, Shaun passed him an empty mug. Before Bitzer went to bed, Shaun could use another mug of hot chocolate.

  Half an hour later, a weary Bitzer dragged his feet round the farm, counting off chickens and checking gates and jealously glancing up at the bedroom window where the Farmer was tucking his teddy into bed.

  It was his own fault, Bitzer told himself. If he hadn’t been so suspicious, he wouldn’t have played the stupid prank. Guilt gnawed at him. Poor Shaun, he thought. His leg looked so painful. Bitzer was a Bad Dog…

  Above his head, an owl hooted in the moonlight and held its wing up so the feathers looked like a moustache. Bitzer glared.

  Faint sounds of laughter drifted across the meadow from the barn. Bitzer raised an ear. What was going on now? Creeping across the grass, he sneaked up the side of t
he barn and held an eye to a knothole in the wall.

  For almost a minute he stared at the scene, disbelieving. Then a low growl rumbled in the back of his throat.

  Inside the barn, the sheep were queuing up to limbo dance under a stick held by the Twins. As Bitzer watched, Shaun’s turn came. Laughing with glee, and loose bandages trailing from his leg, he leaned backwards and shimmied beneath the stick, then jumped round the barn raising up his hooves in triumph.

  There was nothing wrong with him at all.

  Shaun had done it again: Bitzer had been pranked!

  CHAPTER NINE:

  ROOM SERVICE

  In the farmhouse, the Farmer blinked in confusion at his I MUCKSPREADERS calendar. Underneath the picture of a pretty girl posing on a heap of manure was a scrawled note: he had a dentist’s appointment! He scratched his head, certain that he had seen the dentist the week before. He remembered it clearly because the dentist had knelt on his chest, sweating with effort as he drilled out a tooth. It had been quite uncomfortable. Even so, he grumbled to himself, an appointment was an appointment, and if he didn’t hurry he’d be late.

  From behind a bush, Bitzer watched the Farmer’s car judder into life and disappear down the lane. Humming, Bitzer took the handles of a wheelbarrow and rolled it towards the barn.

  The door creaked open, spilling sunshine into the barn. Shaun quickly wiped the grin off his face and lay back on his pillows with a painful groan. He smiled weakly and struggled to sit, bleating pathetically. Could Bitzer possibly fetch him a small glass of water … and a breakfast pizza, and some new magazines, and some grapes, and some more ice cream? Ice cream was definitely helping his leg feel better.