Joke Shop

by Tim Collins

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 The Chattering Teeth

  Chapter 2 The Snake

  Chapter 3 The Shop

  Chapter 4 Halloween

  Chapter 5 The Old Man is a Liar

  Chapter 6 The Clown Mask

  Chapter 7 The Empty Shop

  Copyright Page

  Titles in Teen Reads

  CHAPTER 1

  THE CHATTERING TEETH

  “Have you heard about Andrea’s fart, Aaron?” asked Jack.

  “Only about twenty times,” I said.

  Andrea Taylor, one of the best-looking girls in year eleven had farted in class. But that wasn’t all. The fart in question had gone on and on and on.

  It had continued as she darted out of the classroom with her face turning deep red and had echoed as she ran down the corridor. She had gone home sick and, for all we knew, the record-breaking fart might still be going on.

  “Ryan Brooks did it,” said Jack. “He put fart powder in her Ribena.”

  I was surprised it had worked. I remember trying to put some in my babysitter’s tea when I was eight. I watched her from behind a cushion on our living-room chair, but nothing happened.

  Jack was sitting opposite Natasha and me in the school cafeteria. He had greasy, black hair and streaks of acne on his cheeks. He was clutching a stripy paper bag with the words ‘Joke Shop’ printed in large, black letters.

  “He got it from here,” he said, tapping the bag. “Just opened in the precinct. Want to see what I got?”

  “Not really,” I said. “But go ahead.”

  He emptied the bag onto the table. There was a pair of chattering teeth, a fake dog poo and a packet of blue-mouth sweets. There was an illustration on these of a boy sticking his blue tongue out.

  Jack wound the chattering teeth and sent them across the table to me. I wasn’t sure what was meant to be so hilarious about a set of teeth and gums that hopped along on flat, pink feet.

  He opened the bag of blue-mouth sweets and held them out to a passing group of year seven pupils. A small boy called Patrick grabbed one and popped it in his mouth.

  Jack giggled.

  “Very mature,” said Natasha, who was sitting next to me. She pulled her hair back and fixed a band around it.

  “So’s this,” said Jack. He threw the dog poo and it landed on her empty plate. She leaped from her chair, scraping its legs across the floor with a loud screech.

  “It’s just a fake one,” said Jack. “Look.”

  He leaned over and poked the turd with his finger. His face fell and he drew his hand back.

  Jack had left a small, round dent in the poo. Rather than shiny and plastic it was now slimy and fresh. A bitter, disgusting smell was coming from it that hit the back of my throat and made me feel like throwing up.

  Jack winced and wiped his finger on the empty paper bag.

  “You are so nasty,” spluttered Natasha. She pulled her jumper up over her nose.

  There was a scream from the other side of the canteen. Patrick was holding his hand over his lips while blue liquid gushed out from between his fingers. He sobbed, glugging more onto the floor.

  I felt a sharp stabbing in my fingers and looked down.

  The chattering teeth had made their way over to me. They’d left a deep bite-mark across the side of my index finger and broken the skin just below my nail.

  Blood was slowly trickling out.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE SNAKE

  Our headmaster, Mr Davies, was standing at the front of the hall with his arms crossed.

  “What has got into you lot?” he asked. “In the past week alone, I’ve had pupils sent to me for bringing in cigarettes, putting flies in drinks and even leaving dead chickens lying around.”

  I knew what had got into them all. Fake cigarettes, plastic flies and rubber chickens were all things you could buy from a joke shop. Whatever was happening in the school, it was all coming from that new shop in the precinct.

  I decided to check it out.

  “From now on, anyone caught disrupting lessons will be suspended,” said Mr Davies. “And I’m cancelling fancy-dress day for Halloween. You can still give a pound to charity if you like, but school uniform must be worn.”

  I could hear tutting and muttering coming from all around me.

  “I’ve already got my costume,” a girl called Megan whispered in the row behind me. “I’m wearing it whatever he says.”

  A girl with long, blond hair at the front of the hall stuck her hand up.

  “What is it?” asked Mr Davies.

  “There’s a spider, sir!” said the girl. A large, black shape was scuttling over the floor in front of her.

  “I hardly think it’s going to harm you,” said Mr Davies.

  I wasn’t so sure. I only caught a glimpse of it as it rushed for the curtain at the back of the hall, but it looked pretty massive. More like a tarantula than a normal spider.

  “Ryan Brooks sent it at me,” said the girl. “He keeps doing it.”

  Mr Davies pointed at Ryan Brooks, who was sitting behind the girl.

  “Stand up!” he shouted.

  Ryan got to his feet. He was a small, year ten pupil with short, brown hair and a blazer that was too large for him. His face was red and he was shuffling around awkwardly.

  “What is that?” asked Mr Davies.

  He pointed at Ryan’s blazer. The right side was wiggling around on its own.

  Ryan reached into his jacket and took out a writhing snake. It had yellow and black stripes and a forked tongue that was darting in and out.

  All around the hall, pupils jumped to their feet. A few of them ran for the door and tried to crowd through it at the same time.

  “Stay where you are!” shouted Mr Davies. “I’ll dismiss you one form at a time.”

  More pupils got up and crushed around the exit. I spotted a tall boy pushing a year seven boy aside as he ran. The boy crashed to the floor and rolled around with his hands on his knee.

  “Keep calm!” shouted Mr Davies. “And someone call the RSPCA. We need to take care of that thing.”

  Ryan was still standing at the front of the hall, holding the snake below its head while its body coiled around his arm.

  “It was rubber,” he said. “I swear it was rubber.”

  CHAPTER 3

  THE SHOP

  We climbed the rusty wheelchair ramp that curved up from the street to the precinct. We walked past the newsagent and the empty shop that used to sell CDs, and turned the corner.

  You couldn’t miss it.

  It was in the place where the old video rental store had been. A large, yellow sign above the window had the words ‘Joke Shop’ and a painting of a grinning jester in a pink and green costume.

  Fake vomit, rubber chickens and plastic spiders were jumbled in the window. In the centre was a clown mask with tufts of green hair and black diamonds painted around its empty eyeholes.

  I think it was meant to be grinning, but the bottom half of it was sagging in a way that made it look sad.

  Neon signs with the words ‘LAUGHS’, ‘SHOCKS’ and ‘SCREAMS’ had been stuck inside the window.

  “Ugh, look at that Aaron. Nasty!” said Natasha, pointing at the clown. “I hope I don’t meet him on the way home tonight.”

  I pushed the door open and a bell rang. The wooden shelves on the sides of the shop were lined with whoopee cushions, plastic insects and trick soap. Everything seemed to be covered in a thick layer of dust. Hadn’t this place just opened?

  A row of costumes hung down the middle of the shop. There were vampires, witches, werewolves, ninjas, pirates and a baggy, white body-suit with orange pompoms that must have been part of the clown outfit.

  I had to walk past the dangling costumes to see the
counter.

  An old man was standing behind a glass case full of plastic snakes, bats and spiders. An old-fashioned, wooden cash register was perched next to him, displaying the price ‘14p’.

  “Can I help you?” asked the man, leaning forwards and smiling. He had thinning, grey hair and was wearing a white shirt and beige cardigan.

  “We’re just browsing,” said Natasha.

  The old man reached into his counter and pulled out a white packet with ‘FART POWDER’ written on it. “Can I interest you in this? Guaranteed to raise a smile.”

  He blew a raspberry and wafted his hand in front of his nose.

  “My friend already used some,” I said. “Apparently it worked a little too well. So have a lot of the tricks you sell. Why is that?”

  A frown flickered across the old man’s mouth, but it soon lifted back into a smile.

  “I understand,” he said. “You want a gag of your own. Something they haven’t seen before.”

  He tapped a plastic jar next to the till. “Exploding sweets. You won’t believe the stir these will cause. Perfect for Halloween.”

  I remembered Patrick clutching his mouth as the liquid poured out. If that’s what the blue-mouth sweets did, what would these do? Blow someone’s jaw off?

  Natasha shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “I’ve got it,” said the man. He reached into his counter and pulled out a brown packet with ‘ITCHING POWDER’ written on it.

  I imagined Patrick scratching the side of his face until it was red and sore. It was a pitiful and painful image, but for a split second I also found it incredibly funny. I realised I was grinning.

  “No,” I said, forcing the smile away.

  I wanted to keep asking him about why his tricks had been causing such chaos. We’d come here to confront him, not to browse. But my mind was getting fuzzy.

  “Your jokes have been hurting people,” said Natasha. “We think they’re dangerous.”

  At least she’d managed to hold it together.

  “I’ve got it!” said the old man.

  He pulled a rubber finger out of his glass counter. Red blood had been painted over the stump and there was a scrap of squishy, white bone sticking out of the end.

  “Imagine putting this in your teacher’s coffee,” said the old man. “He’d get a shock, wouldn’t he?”

  The man began to laugh and I found myself joining in. I turned to Natasha and saw she was chuckling along too.

  I imagined my history teacher, Mr Singh, fishing it out of his mug and it seemed like the most hilarious thing I’d ever thought of. I was laughing so hard I had to wipe tears from the corners of my eyes.

  “One pound, twenty two,” said the old man through his chuckles. I scooped out all the coins in my pocket and clacked them down on the counter. It turned out I had exactly the right amount.

  “Perfect!” said the old man. He placed the rubber finger in a stripy paper bag and handed it over. “Come again!”

  “Thanks!” said Natasha.

  We were both still laughing as we circled down the wheelchair ramp, but our giggles dried up as we continued along the street. By the time we’d reached the bus stop, I was starting to wonder what I’d found so funny. So what if Mr Singh found a rubber finger in his coffee?

  I glanced at Natasha. She wasn’t laughing either. In fact, she looked pretty freaked out. She was glaring at the paper bag.

  I looked down at it. Dark red liquid was dripping from the corner. I peered inside. The finger was no longer made of rubber. It was pale, dead flesh. There was a genuine shard of snapped bone sticking out of it, and the liquid dripping from it wasn’t red paint. It was blood.

  CHAPTER 4

  HALLOWEEN

  Jack grinned, showing off his plastic fangs.

  It was Halloween and a small group of pupils had turned up in fancy dress, ignoring the headmaster’s ban.

  There were three in our class, sitting around the back table. Jack was dressed as a vampire, Liam was dressed as a werewolf, and Megan was dressed as a witch.

  Mr Singh shoved his thick, black glasses up the bridge of his nose, opened his laptop and pointed at the chunk of text on the whiteboard.

  “Quiet,” he said. “Read this source carefully, as I’m about to ask you some questions about it.”

  A low murmur of chat continued.

  Mr Singh lifted his finger to his lips and said, “Shush!”

  Megan stood up. She was wearing a pointed, black hat and had a long, warty, rubber nose attached by elastic.

  “Silence!” she shouted, waving a plastic wand.

  Laughter broke out.

  “I don’t think that helped, Megan,” said Mr Singh. “Now settle down and read the source.”

  “I can’t concentrate,” shouted a girl called Alison Green. “Liam keeps growling.”

  There was more laughter as the whole class turned to look at the back table. Liam was staring down at his desk and I could only see the long snout and furry ears of his mask.

  “Cut it out,” said Mr Singh.

  Alison was right about him growling. We could all hear it now.

  “Come on Liam,” sighed Mr Singh. “Don’t make me send you to Mr Davies.”

  The growl got deeper and louder.

  Alison stormed over to Liam’s desk and pointed at him. “Shut up!” she shouted. “That’s getting on my nerves!”

  Liam looked up. His eyes were yellow with long, black pupils. I wondered if the costume had come with special contact lenses.

  He snarled and lashed out at Alison, scratching three red lines down her cheek. She shrieked and rubbed them with her palm.

  “Look what he did,” cried Alison, pointing to her cheek. “Expel him.”

  “Get out now!” shouted Mr Singh in an uneven voice. He pointed at the door. “Report to Mr Davies!”

  Liam fixed his yellow eyes on him and howled.

  “Out!” shouted Mr Singh. But his hands were beginning to tremble.

  “If you won’t do anything about him, I will,” said Alison. She walked around the desk, but Jack bolted up and blocked her path.

  “Move!” shouted Alison.

  Jack grabbed her shoulders and thrust his plastic fangs into her neck. He pulled back and there were small drops of blood on the ends of them. Except they didn’t seem plastic any more. They looked like genuine, sharp teeth.

  “All three of you get out!” shouted Mr Singh. There were beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks and his glasses were slipping down his nose. “Right now!”

  Megan stood up. She grinned, pointed her wand at him and shouted, “Silence!”

  Mr Singh’s lips kept moving but no sound came out. He grabbed his throat and silently opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

  Liam, Megan and Jack burst out laughing.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE OLD MAN IS A LIAR

  Natasha nudged me and pointed to a boy called Lewis, who was lurching around the canteen dressed as Frankenstein’s monster. He was wearing a mask with sunken eyes and green skin. At least, I’d assumed it was a mask. It looked more like brilliant movie make-up now I was staring right at him.

  “See that idiot, Aaron? He just ruined our science lesson,” said Natasha. “He kept knocking beakers off the desks and smashing them on the floor.”

  Lewis lumbered into a table and a can of Fanta fell off.

  “Our history lesson was even weirder thanks to that lot,” I said. I pointed at Liam, Jack and Megan, who were sitting at the other end of the lunch hall. Megan’s nose was staying on without any elastic now, Jack’s skin had faded to white, and Liam was eating straight from his plate.

  “That costume lot have gone weird,” said Natasha. She pointed at a boy in a ninja costume who was stalking across the hall. He flipped over backwards, kicking a plate of chicken curry and rice out of a small boy’s hand and sending it spinning into the air.

  He landed gracefully while the plate crashed down behind him.

 
“We need to stop it,” said Natasha.

  “I don’t fancy taking them on,” I said. “My Kung Fu’s a little rusty.”

  I heard a scraping noise from the other side of the canteen. A girl dressed as a pirate was dragging a metal hook along the wall and ripping a white line in the plaster. The plastic parrot on her shoulder fluttered into life and flew up to the ceiling.

  “I mean we need to go back to the shop,” said Natasha. “That’s where they’ve been getting these costumes from. And why they’re all acting so weirdly.”

  I thought about the rubber finger and how hilarious it had seemed when we’d bought it.

  “Something happens when you go in,” I said. “It’s like a spell takes over and you can’t see how bad it all is. What if that happens to us again?”

  Liam was shoving his plate away with his muzzle. He threw his head back and howled, showing off a row of razor-sharp teeth.

  “It won’t,” said Natasha. “Because we’ll be expecting it this time.”

  She took a ballpoint pen out of her pocket, pulled my palm towards her and scrawled:

  The old man is a liar and his tricks are evil.

  “There you go,” she said. “Look at that if you’re having trouble.”

  Over on the other side of the hall, Megan was strolling past a table full of year seven girls. She waved her wand and muttered. Their plates all flipped over at once, coating their shirts with vegetable pasta, beans, gravy and custard.

  “Come on,” said Natasha. “We’ve got to do something about this before it gets out of control.”

  CHAPTER 6

  THE CLOWN MASK

  The bell rang as we walked into the shop. The old man was stacking coins on his counter. Some were rusty and faded, as if they’d been dug out of an ancient site.

  “How did the trick go?” he asked. “I bet your teacher’s face was a picture, wasn’t it?”

  I’d rehearsed loads of stuff to say but I couldn’t remember any of it now.

  “We didn’t use it,” said Natasha. “We want you to stop selling your crooked stuff to everyone from our school.”