Mucked Up

by Katz, Danny

  Sounded fake / I reckon they got into the office

  Don’t go to the sausage sizzle / It’s a Muck Up Day trick

  Knew it wasn’t Fruehling / Pretty funny but

  Jack S and Jarrell are passing. I yell out to Jack, ‘Hey Jack, don’t go to the sausage sizzle, it’s a trick.’

  Jack S keeps walking but Jarrell says ‘Yeah I think we worked it out for ourselves’ all hate-faced, like she knows what happened in Science, she knows that I tried to break them up. Jack S pulls her arm to make her walk faster. ‘C’mon Jarrell, we’ll be late for phil-o-so-fon.’

  Jarrell’s laughing as they walk off and Jack goes ‘Please stop making fun of how I say it all the time, you’re always making fun of me’ then they go round the corner and I am alone on the Map of the World Rug, the last person in the whole world.

  Pirate Jennie says ‘Thank you, Captain Tom, for saving me from being molested. But … what made you think I wanted to be saved?’

  Suddenly she grabs my sword out of my hand, whips it in the air and slashes open my neck, all my neck hanging open with huge veins hanging out and blood spurting out of the open veins.

  Damn bloody bastards, damn bastards, damn damn damn! I fall to the ground trying to hold in my neck flap.

  One-Eyed Jack looks at me and chuckles dementedly. ‘Haven’t you worked it out yet, Captain Tom? Pirate Jennie and me … are hooks.’

  Last thing I see before I die is the two of them dancing together. Pirate Jennie is moving her hips and bum round.

  It looks almost. Kind of. Sexxxy.

  End of Chapter 1 (the whole book actually, because I am the hero and I am dead).

  12:25 p.m.

  Lunch

  You’re not supposed to call it a handicapped toilet.

  A lady who was disabled came to our school to talk to us about disabilities and told us it’s bad to call it that – she said a handicapped toilet would be a toilet that sat in a wheelchair and was blind and had no arms. That is a disabled person joke and none of us knew if we were allowed to laugh at it, so none of us did. The disabled lady told us we were meant to call them ‘accessible toilets’ which is a stupid name for them because they’re not accessible at all, only disabled people are allowed to use them.

  But I’m thinking of using one right now. It’s the one right here, just outside the library.

  I’m really busting and no one is around so no one will know I used it.

  Have a peek through the door.

  …

  Ooooooooo.

  Big and clean and white … little handrails you can hold onto … a floor-flusher that you step on … you step on it with your foot … disabled people are SOOOOO lucky.

  Full library pee-urge is engaged and I can’t be bothered running all the way down the corridor to the B Block boys toilets. You know, this may be the most scary and crazy thing I’ve ever done in my life but what the hell: today is Muck Up Day, it’s a day with no rules and no normalness, just gorillas and Smurfs and bins on footy posts. So if you’re going to do something like use a handicapped toilet, today is the day to do it …

  Going in.

  Lawwwwd … not even a toilet really … this is a hotel room in a rich skyscraper hotel.

  You could sleep in here.

  I’m going to pee and flush with the foot-flusher. Is that all you do? Just step on it with your foot? Can’t believe I’m going to actually flush with my—

  ‘GETTTTTTT OUT!’

  Boniqa Newitt has come in because I forgot to lock the door. She has been running and is breathing hard because it is an effort for her to run.

  ‘THIS IS NOT YOUR TOILET!’

  ‘Let go, Boniqa.’ She’s got my arm and is trying to drag me out.

  ‘HIDE IN YOUR OWN TOILET!’

  She’s pretty strong actually, she almost has me out.

  ‘I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW DISRESPECTFUL YOU ARE TO PEOPLE WITH DISABILITIES, GET OUT, QUICK, THEY’RE COMING!’ She pushes me out of the door then shuts it, click-locks it and now she’s safe inside and I’m out here in the corridor.

  ‘Who’s coming, Boniqa?’ She won’t answer back through the door. ‘Who you hiding from?’

  Squeaaaaak … squeaakkkkk …

  Outside B Block, I see them; coming up the wheelchair ramp that goes to the handicapped toilet. Seven of them, in short skirts and nice shirts. Riding scooters.

  Superspicy-Girlz on Scooters.

  They haven’t seen me so I push myself flat against the toilet door because I don’t know what to do. No point in running, no way can I run faster than a super-spicy-girl on a scooter.

  Squeaaaaak …

  Their scooter wheels are squeaking as they try to ride up the wheelchair ramp. It’s not easy, see how the ramp turns halfway up? One girl at the back is holding a video camera and is trying to film and ride at the same time and she is having trouble doing that. The one at the front stops and turns round to talk to her.

  Be careful of the camera, Megan, it belongs to Ranga’s dad / Alright I’m being careful

  They are super-spicy. Their shirts are undone low and you can see a bit of bra just showing at the top. They also have shopping bags hanging on their scooter handles. There is probably something bad inside those shopping bags. I try to open the handicapped toilet door again but it is still click-locked: ‘Boniqa, please! Open up! They have shopping bags with something inside.’

  The front girl is at the top of the ramp and the others girlz are close behind her and the camera girl is filming up the back. They are opening the double doors that come into B Block.

  Ready? / Yeah / Make sure you film everything, Megan

  They are reaching into their shopping bags.

  A bunch of Year 7s come out the library door and the front girl yells ‘JIZZ RAID!’ then the rest of the girlz scooter in, right past me at the door like they haven’t seen me, heading for the Year 7s coming out of the library. They start chucking little balloons in different colours. Little balloons are going everywhere, splattering white paste on the floor and on the library wall and on the Year 7s who are running this way and that like crazy ants with their hands over their faces, yelling ‘Ahhh … sick … ahhhhh!’

  Mrs Gaffnee’s sticking her head out the library door and yelling but she can’t stop the Jizz Raid, all she can do is go ‘HEY! … HEY! … HEY! HEYYYYY!

  HEYYYYYYYY!’

  I am legging it down B Block, away from the library down to the gym end. It’s hard to run with a full bladder, pee sloshing round in me, but I will not stop.

  Nobody ever goes into the B Block boys toilets. It has a bad smell that you can smell from far away, like near the front school fence if it’s a day with a bit of a breeze. Any time you walk past these toilets you have to decide whether to breathe through your nose or through your mouth: if you breathe through your nose then your nose will bleed. Breathe through your mouth and the smell gets stuck on your tongue and you can taste B Block Boys Toilet for the rest of the day.

  But I have to go into B Block Boys Toilets because I still have library pee-urge and also because the Superspicy-Girlz on Scooters will never find me in here. NO girl would ever go in here, even if they were on fire and they needed water to put themselves out, they’d rather just stand outside in the corridor and burn to death. Go in with my hand blocking my mouth and nose, trying to breathe air through my skin like a lizard. Think it’s kind of working so I will continue breathing this way.

  If the accessible toilets are a fancy skyscraper hotel room, then the opposite of the accessible toilets are the B Block boys toilets. They are the dirty slums of India like in that doco Mum made us all watch because she’s into all that caring about poor people biz. Pretty dark in here and the air is kind of wet. Something slippery is in puddles over the ground so I walk carefully and try not to step on it. Taps are against one wall. A couple of toilet cubicles are against the other wall: one of them has a door on it, and the other one has no door and inside there is a toilet with no toilet seat. A uri
nal is against the third wall: it’s long and metal and there is lots of sloppy stuff in it and bits of rubbish that won’t flush down. I go straight to the urinal and unzip and get ready for a well-earned leak. C’mon, pee, come out. Waiting, waiting, breathing through my lizard skin, c’mon …

  This is the thing about pee-urges, I get them in libraries but I don’t get them in public toilets. Whenever I need to pee in a public toilet, my bladder won’t open. It’s like it gets pee-nervous. Everything shuts off down there and nothing comes out.

  Please … come out … just today …

  Pleeeeeeeez…

  …

  …

  C’mon bladder …

  Just today …

  Pleeeeeeeeeez …

  ?????????

  Just saw it: down the end of the urinal, in the floor-goo, standing in the corner, the pig must’ve come into the toilets while I have been standing here. I look at the pig and the pig looks at me then I zip up because it’s weird to be standing in front of a pig unzipped.

  It’s got blue and yellow marks on its ears where it must’ve touched paint. Its nappy is still hanging off a bit. Its skin is all slippery with Vaseline. And it’s all toilety on its feet from walking in here.

  Probably should help it. It’s just a baby. Should I pick it up? Never picked up a pig before. Do they bite?

  ‘Come here … c’mon little piggy.’

  FLARPING FLARP—

  Freaked me out. It just took off, running past me, skidding on the slippery floor then running out the door. Last thing I see is its little nappy dragging off the back as it goes out.

  Haha. Funny little sumo-pig.

  Okay, need to relax and get back to my library pee-urge but I don’t think the urinal is helping. Sometimes it helps when I go somewhere private like a cubicle. I’m not going to go in the one with no door and no toilet seat, not really the privacy I need. So I go in the other one with a door. Close the door and turn the little door-lock thing but the lock is broken and the door opens up by itself so I have to hold it closed with one foot behind me.

  This cubicle is even more stenchy than the urinal. I can’t even breathe through my skin, I’m not breathing at all anymore. Must do this fast. Unzip, let’s give this another go …

  C’mon … come out …

  Pleeeeeez, bladder…

  …

  WORK, BLADDER, JUST BLOODY WORK, WILLYA …

  Maybe some toilet-reading will relax me, that helps sometimes. On the wall over the toilet there are lots of tags with dicks ’n’ balls, some rude swears. Someone called Adam has written ‘ADAM HAD A ROARING GOOD POO’ in big lettering which is interesting information.

  C’mon …

  How does a poo roar? Adam must’ve been really proud if he could be bothered writing it down.

  Next to it someone’s written rude stuff about a chick named Justine who is ‘good in bed’ and it even tells you in lots of detail.

  Who is Justine? Can girls really do that? Wonder if Jarrell is going to do that with Jack S. She can do that as much as she likes, happy to leave her to it.

  …relax …

  …almost…

  …here we go...

  Footsteps come into the toilets and my bladder closes down again.

  Someone is pushing my toilet door a bit so I have to push back with my foot to stop it opening. Then the footsteps go into the cubicle next to this one with no door or toilet seat, and there is a sniffing noise inside.

  ‘Sumo-pig?’

  More sniffing noises.

  ‘Is that you, piggy?’ But the pig does not answer.

  Lots more running footsteps come into the toilets. Don’t know how many people have come in but it sounds like hundreds.

  He came in here / Y’sure? / Yeah, there he is!

  All the footsteps go into the cubicle next to mine with no door. There’s banging-round and splashing-sounds and I try not to move or make a noise. The noises go for ages. Then there’s laughing haw haw haw and the hundreds of footsteps go out of the toilets and it’s all quiet now except for a strange suck-in noise coming from the next-door cubicle.

  ‘… hhhHHH … ’

  Definitely not a pig.

  ‘Ravo?’

  ‘… hhhHHH … yeah?’

  ‘It’s Zurb.’

  ‘oh … hhhHHH … hi …’

  ‘Thought you were a pig.’

  ‘Nah … hhhHHH … it’s me …’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘They … hhhHHH … got me … hhhHHH … again …’

  Sadness and funniness have been getting mixed up together all day and it’s happening again when Ravo starts telling me what happened. How he heard the PA announcement about the sausage sizzle fundraiser outside A Block. How he went to the fundraiser stall to buy a sausage at lunchtime. How a bunch of Harry Potters were waiting at a table all dressed up in wizard clothes. How he asked the Harry Potters if he could buy a sausage in bread to support the Bangladeshi Orphanage …

  ‘Y’serious?’ I’m yelling through the wall. ‘The fundraiser thing was a trick, Ravo, everyone knew that!’

  ‘Nobody … hhhHHH … tells me … hhhHHH … anything …’

  He keeps going with his story and I know it’s meant to be a not-funny story but I start haw-hawing and I can’t stop: he tells me how the Harry Potters gave him a sausage in bread and asked if he’d like sauce with that. How he said ‘Thank you very much, sauce would be great’. How the Harry Potters brought out squirty bottles of tomato sauce and sprayed him bad all over his face and clothes.

  ‘Haw haw haw sorry haw haw.’

  ‘… hhhHHH … it’s not funny, Zurb … hhhHHH … I thought I was helping the orphans … hhhHHH … of Bangladesh … ’

  ‘Haw haw haw sorry, Ravo, haw haw haw haw.’

  He goes on about how he ran across the quad to get away from them. How they chased him and kept spraying him with sauce. How he ran all the way to B Block and went to the toilets because he thought he’d be safe in here. How the Harry Potters found him in the cubicle and held him upside down over the toilet with no toilet seat.

  Classic: Only Ravo would get into that situation. Funnysad stuff just happens to him without him meaning it to happen: one time he told me he went shopping at Northland with his gran and he got vomited on by a policehorse in the carpark. Another time, on the Year 7 excursion to Scienceworks, he got stuck in the giant human heart that you can walk into, between a lump of arterial fat and a blood clot, and it took three teachers to get him out. And now he went to a fake fundraiser and asked for a sausage with sauce and got toileted by a bunch of Harry Potters.

  ‘HAW HAW HAW SORRY, SORRRRY, HAW HAW.’

  He starts laughing too because he realises it is pretty funny, laughing and crying at the same time: ‘… hhhHHH … HAW HAW … hhhhHHHH … HAW HAW HAW …’

  Which makes me laugh even more and everything starts loosening up below …

  ‘HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW.’

  ‘… hhhHHH … HAW HAW … hhhhHHHH … HAW HAW HAW …’

  … everything starts relaxing down there …

  ‘HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW …’

  ‘… hhhHHH … HAW HAW … hhhhHHH … HAW HAW HAW …’

  ‘HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW …’

  ‘… hhhHHH … HAW HAW … hhhhHHHH … HAW HAW HAW … hhhHHH …’

  And I’m finished. Look, I made a pissaccino: it’s a piss done with so much force, it has a frothy top on it like a coffee.

  Quickly zip up, open the cubicle door and pop my head round to the next cubicle.

  Ravo’s sitting on the edge of the toilet with no toilet seat. His hair’s soaking wet from the toilet head-dunk and it’s all covered with sauce and water, hanging down his face. He looks like one of those penguins they pull out of the oil slicks in the sea.

  ‘Don’t come too close, Zurb, I stink bad.’

  ‘Look, you still got your sausage in bread.’

  He looks down and sees he’s still holding a sausage
in bread and somehow it’s all in one piece. He holds it out: ‘Wanna share?’

  ‘Aiiight.’ I take it from him and check for dirt but it looks clean enough. ‘Mind if I grab some sauce?’

  He kind of shrugs and I dip the sausage into a blob of sauce on his shirt pocket. ‘Remember this morning, I said we could dip spring rolls into your Vietnamese fish sauce? Now we’re kind of doing that, but with sausage and sauce.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m a mobile cafeteria, tuck in, enjoy all my meal choices.’

  It tastes pretty good and I’m pretty hungry so I dip the sausage into some sauce on his collar, have another bite then give it back to him and he dips it into a blob on his shoulder and takes a bite. ‘Hmm, not too toilety.’ He seems better. We share the sausage in bread and while we eat, I feel like I should tell him something.

  ‘Hey, I did something real stupid in Science today.’

  ‘You’re always real stupid in Science, you’re real stupid in most subjects.’

  ‘No I did something bad to Jack S, told him that he should break up with Jarrell.’

  ‘Why you got such a problem about them being together?’

  ‘Because she’s destroying SCUM by being a massive cocker and I want things back to how they were.’

  ‘Ever think YOU’RE the cocker who’s destroying SCUM? Saying stupid things to everyone, driving away Bris, Jarrell, Jack?’

  ‘Come on, admit it, they’re a lame couple, right? They don’t belong together, they just look so—’

  The bell goes but once again I can’t stop my mouth going.

  ‘They look weird when they hold hands. Don’t you think? It looks, like, wrong.’

  Ravo gets up off the edge of the toilet and I have to step out of the cubicle so he can get past. ‘Well, better clean myself up,’ he says. ‘Just two more periods and Muck Up Day will be all over. What you got?’

  ‘Double Food Tech. You?’

  ‘Double Jap. Hate double Jap.’ He stops at the sinks and looks at his face in the dirty mirror that has fingermarks and dried zit-spurts all over it. ‘This has been the worst day of my life, Zurb. And you know, the worst bit isn’t the fish sauce or the tomato sauce or the lost and found pants or the double Jap. The worst bit is Bris leaving SCUM.’