The World's Loudest Armpit Fart (14 page)

‘He must still be in the pool!’ said Danny.

He raced back into the Sports Centre. ‘Trevor! Where are you?’ he called into the murky yellow gloom.

‘Help! I can’t move! I’m trapped!’ a voice spluttered.

‘Don’t worry,’ shouted Danny. ‘I’ll rescue you.’

He jumped into the water at the shallow end and swam as hard and as fast as he could. He couldn’t see The Line, but he knew when he had reached it because his heart began to drum a crazy rhythm and his tummy did a tingly dance to it.

Trevor shouted again. ‘Hurry! Help me!’

Without another thought, Danny took a huge breath and swam across The Line. Moments later his hand touched the wall at the end of the pool and Trevor’s face appeared right in front of him, covered in yellow slop, his mouth and nose just above the surface.

‘I jumped in to rescue people,’ he gasped. ‘But my whistle’s got tangled up in the filter and the string’s twisted tight!’

Danny groped below the water, his hand searching The Grid’s metal teeth. He felt clumps of hair and a soft square of sticking plaster, but then his fingers found something small and hard.

‘Got it!’ he cried.

But Trevor was still stuck.

In Danny’s hand lay not a whistle, but a big, fat, dead cockroach, its brown, spiky legs pointing up at him.

‘Ace!’ he cried, dropping the insect back in the water and rummaging around again on the surface of the grill. Danny thought about the monster python lurking in the dark drain.
It’s just a daft story
, he told himself.

At last Danny’s fingers located the whistle and he began to twist and turn it, trying to wiggle it free. Suddenly it came loose and Trevor was able to raise his head above the water. Together they made their way to the metal ladders in the corner and climbed out.

‘Thanks, kiddo,’ gasped Trevor. ‘I think your days in the shallow end are over. You’ve Crossed The Line and swum a length.
You
are in the Team!’

‘Ace!’ cried Danny.

As they emerged on to Tempest Road, Danny’s mouth dropped open in amazement. Mingling amongst the firemen, police and paramedics were:

The Easter Bunny

A snowman

An astronaut

Father Christmas

A Tyrannosaurus rex

A bat

A penguin

A troupe of monkeys

King Henry VIII

and . . .

A bogey.

The T. rex bounded over.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Danny.

‘The “Fancy That!” costume shop over the road lent us these outfits so we wouldn’t get cold,’ explained the T. rex, in Matthew’s voice.

At that moment, Mrs Bobbins, the shop manager, handed Danny a Superman suit. ‘Put this on,’ she said. ‘It’ll keep you warm.’

‘Thanks,’ said Danny. He pulled the costume on and the bright-red cape billowed out behind him.

‘Guess which one’s Natalie?’ asked Matthew, waving one of his front claws at the other kids.

Danny smirked. ‘Is she the bogey?’

‘No,’ answered Matthew. ‘She’s Nat the Bat!’

Dear Mr Bibby

I’m going to have Crumbly Crunch’s new lemon-puff biscuits named after me, because I rescued the Penleydale Sea Squirts Swimming Club from the Lemon-puff Peril.

AND, I’m going to get two free packets a week forever!

Ace!

Each packet of Danny Baker Lemon Puffs will have seventeen biscuits in it. If I eat all thirty-four biscuits every week, how long will it take to break the world record for eating the most lemon puffs?

Yours sincerely

Danny Baker

PS My mum and dad are really proud of me. Dad says that he only ever saved goals, but I saved people!

Dear Danny

Congratulations on your heroic rescue, which I read about in the news paper. I’m proud of you too! You deserve the honour of having the biscuits named after you. I love lemon puffs, and often enjoy one with my afternoon cup of tea.

The world record for Continuous Lemon Puff Consumption is held by Lottie Gobbbett, of Lower Peover in Cheshire. She ate 558,451 biscuits before realizing that she didn’t actually like lemon puffs. Unfortunately, by this time, Lottie’s nose had turned a strange canary-yellow colour and glowed in the dark.

If you eat two packets a week (thirty-four biscuits), you will be 325 years old years old by the time you break her record. And do you
really
want a yellow nose, Danny? What would Natalie say about
that
?

Now for the good news! I have checked all our records and I am thrilled to tell you that there has been no previous claim for the Armpit-fart-assisted Mass Rescue of People from Tornado-generated Lemon-puff Peril. Once again, you have
set
a new record.

Well done! I am delighted to enclose your certificate for this wonderful and unique achievement.

Best wishes

Eric Bibby

Keeper of the Records