by Zuni Blue
school! Ew!"
"I told you already, I stopped doing that!" He looked over his shoulder as if someone was listening.
"So what's taking so long?"
"My nose!" It swelled even larger. He went to the mirror and looked up his nose.
All he could see were boogers. Hundreds, thousands, maybe millions. Dry, sloppy, tiny specks, bigger balls, greens, browns, and a bit of purple. They were advancing toward the exit, the ones at the front pushed out. They fell in the sink and clung on when he tried to pick them up.
"Get off!" a squeaky voice said. "You'll pay for this!"
"Who said that?" Dixon looked around, but no one was there.
"Down here, poo head!"
By the plughole was an extra large, green booger with a golden crown on his head. He reached in his body and pulled out a staff. On its tip was a shiny silver ball. He unscrewed it, revealing a microphone underneath. He tapped it and said, in a deep, booming voice, "Can you hear me now?"
Dixon covered his ears and nodded. "What's up?"
"Are you Jeff Anderson?"
"No. He lives across the street."
"Barry Richard?"
"No. He moved to America last year."
"Well, who on earth are you?" He flipped through a notepad made of slime. "Micheal, James, Stevie...Ah ha! Daria Davis!"
"Dixon! She's my twin."
"What's the difference?"
"I pee standing up."
"Understood." The booger took a slimy pen from his body and made some notes. "Dixon Davis, you have been declared an enemy of your body. The Booger King hereby declares war!"
Dixon laughed.
The door opened a crack and Daria peered inside. She stared at the urinal with a confused look before slipping inside. She tiptoed over with her eyes covered and stopped by Dixon. She spotted the booger in charge and cried, "Ooo, he's so cute!"
"Silence," the king snapped, "or you will be killed too!"
Dixon laughed again until his stomach grumbled. He took a sandwich from his lunchbox and gobbled it down. First the peanut butter chunks slid down in his throat, but then they moved back up. Piece after piece shot out his mouth and stuck to the mirror. The booger king cackled, his eyes glowing bright red.
"My loyal subjects, for too long we have been picked, flicked, licked, and washed away." There were tears in the king's eyes. "As boogers, we accepted our role to transport dirt from the nose. In return, all we asked was that our human takes great care in removing us. All we wanted was a soft tissue, a quick sneeze, but no. Dixon was too selfish for that!"
Daria nodded.
"It's my nose!" Dixon shouted. "I can do whatever I like!" He stuck two fingers up his nose and stuck out his tongue. The booger, if he wasn't green, would've turned red with anger.
"The criminal returns to the scene of the crime!"
"Both of you calm down," Daria said. "Mr. King, what crime?"
"This morning, I awoke to find half my loyal subjects missing. The last time that happened was when Dixon had the flu." The king pointed at Dixon. "But this time it was not a vicious virus or sneaky germs. It was you, the boy whose nose we swore to protect. My subjects told me about the gruesome moment you stuck your fingers farther up than ever before. Why? Those boogers would not have been called to serve for weeks, possibly months, yet. They were still babies!"
"Sorry," Dixon said with a shrug. "Alright, can I eat you now?"
"Sorry? Ha! You will be."
The king tapped his staff on the sink harder and harder. He raised a hand and stared at Dixon's stomach. It grumbled, the giant booger inside now still. "Booger Army, hear my cry! Attack!"
Dixon's stomach grumbled louder. Ripples flowed over his skin and his stomach swelled. He could hear the patter of tiny feet marching closer, but he couldn't see them. He tried to pull his fingers out, but they were stuck. Then he felt tiny pricks poking his fingertips.
"They're poking my fingers!" he cried.
"Take them out, then!"
"Help me!" He tugged again in vain. "I can't stop picking my nose!"
Daria pulled on his arms, but the boogers sucked his fingers deeper inside. She held on, trying to pull but the army of millions was too strong. Dixon's hands were edging up his nose, blocking entry to his nostrils.
"Let us see how you like being eaten!"
"I'm sorry," Dixon said. "I'll cut down on my picking. Can we do it only once a day?"
The booger in his stomach grew larger, pushing his belly button out. He could feel them crawling up his throat, getting closer to his fingers.
"Pick him!" the king shouted, leading the charge across the sink.
The boogers jumped out and ran across the floor. Daria tried to stomp on them, but they were too quick. She did get a few, but when she tried to pull her foot away, it was stuck. She tugged on her leg and her foot slipped out the shoe. She fell backwards and landed in a urinal. "Ew!" she screeched. "My dress's pee on it!"
Dixon had bigger problems than pee. The booger soldiers scrambled under his trousers and paused. He waited, trembling from fear.
"Pick him!" the king ordered. The boogers picked at his legs. He hopped about in pain, trying to shake them off. Some slid down, but clung on to a spot or two. Others held on to his trousers, swinging about. He ran over to Daria and looked down to his fly.
"Take 'em off!"
"I don't want to see your willy!"
"Daria, quit messing about!"
She closed her eyes and reached for the zipper.
The door opened and Jimmy rushed in, still in his sweaty football gear. His blue eyes stared at Daria, who was still stuck in the urinal. Then he looked at Dixon, whose fly was open. He looked at the shoe stuck to the floor and nodded.
"Teaching her to pee standing up?" Jimmy asked.
Daria said, "No, the boo--"
"Yeah, you know. The seat was too cold. It's better this way."
"Good luck." Jimmy looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Mya! We need to talk." He closed the door.
Daria smacked Dixon's stomach, shaking boogers out his throat. "He could've helped!"
"No one's gonna believe this!" He burped, a booger flying out. It rolled down the door and scurried over to his foot. "This is our fight!"
"Yours! I use tissues. Soft ones."
Dixon realised the pinching had stopped. Daria lifted the trousers, the boogers still. They fell off and rolled into a big ball, soon as big as a football. Then he burped again, more boogers flying out. Daria held his mouth shut, but then the boogers tickled his nose.
"Gonna sneeze," he mumbled.
"What?"
"Sneeze," he mumbled again.
"What?"
He sneezed, but she held his lips together. The boogers tried to slip through, so he held his teeth together. They kicked against his teeth, some trying to squeeze through the gaps. Then he sneezed again, another troop flying out his throat. They picked at his tongue and tickled his tonsils.
"Don't sneeze again," she said, "and don't laugh either! Just let me think of something."
"Hurry up," he grumbled.
"What?"
He sneezed again, a large group of soldiers packing into his mouth. More and more lodged inside until he realised something. His chest ached. His lips were trembling. He tried not to, but the urge was too strong.
I've got to breathe, he thought. Uh oh...
He pulled off her hands and exhaled. The soldiers flew out and dashed over to their king. He stood by the ball as it grew larger and larger, soon as big as the toilet.
"Flick him!" the king ordered, slipping into the ball.
Dixon and Daria ran out. They went to the playground and climbed the tree. Hidden among the branches, they watched the doors.
"It was right behind us," Daria whispered. "Where is it?"
The leaves below rustled. He could've sworn he saw a tiny eye by a leaf, but he blinked and it vanished. Still, he kept his eyes to the spot while he spoke. Just in case.
"Daria, if anything happens
, go tell Mrs. Rowling. She won't believe you, and people will laugh, but at least you won't be alone."
"I'm not leaving you," she said, crying. "We'll beat the king together!"
The leaf moved again, a tiny booger hand holding it. He tore the leaf away, revealing the booger king. The king's head fell, his lips quivering. He raised his hands and said, "I surrender."
"Don't trust him." Daria tried to pull Dixon away, but he shook her off. He climbed down to the king and held out his hand. The king placed his hand on top and smiled with narrow eyes.
"Deal?" Dixon asked. "You'll stop the soldiers if I promise to use tissues from now on?"
"You have my word."
They shook hands.
"That it?" Dixon breathed a sigh of relief. "Never been so happy to see Shakespeare again."
"One last thing," the king said. "We must sign a contract for peace. Unfortunately, I left my notebook in the sink. How troublesome. We cannot declare peace without it."
"I'll get it."
Dixon jumped down and got his breath. Before he walked away, Daria screamed. The leaves rustled and the trunk trembled, shaking its leaves and branches free. The king had gone, but his cackling echoed across the playground.
"Flick him!" the king boomed. "Flick him!"
The booger ball dropped from the tree, but Dixon threw himself out the way. He ran for the doors, but the ball bounced over him and blocked the way in. The king's head popped out, the microphone to his mouth. He grinned. "Flick him," he spat. "Flick him!"
The ball flew at Dixon and smacked him backwards. He tumbled into the sandpit, the playground spinning.
Slowly he got back up and waited until his jumbled thoughts cleared. He heard Daria's voice, but she sounded far away. Then he turned and saw her running inside.
She left me, he thought. She really left me.
"Yes, she did!" the king said. "Now you're on your
