Jim Smith - Barry Loser and the birthday billions

Cover

Copyright

Title Page

Barry’s birthday

Er, who’s Wolf Tizzler?

More rubbish pressies

The Shnozinator

After I did my bday wee

The unkeelest wee ever

The great birthday telling-off

Yellow jumper

Bad news

Bday Barry

‘What?!’

The Slugbusters

Slug pellets

Ooh la la

1p per slug

A nice sit-down

Cafe Cafe

Fronkle-ccino

Enter Sharonella

Really bad brainstorm

Lamp post nappies

Back to the drawing board

Bday poo

Loo-serish idea

Hi brow

Down the Women’s Beauty aisle

Frozen goods, I mean bads

Nancy’s idea

The parent-shutter-upper-er seven trillion

Naughty Bunky

The worst walk home ever

Back at the Loser residence

Bunky. Or should I say . . .

Nigel V Snooky-flumps

I am not funny

Chat to Wolf !

Chat to Sunil

Not my favourite

Lost Bunky

Too many Fronkleccinos

Monday morning

Super slug!

One last bday plan

About the author and drawer

Some of my good reviews

Back series promotional page

‘Cock-a-doodle-doooooo!’ screeched my baby brother, Desmond Loser the Second, from his bedroom next to mine.

It was 6.17am on Saturday morning, not that I minded because . . .

‘IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!’ I cried, jumping out of bed and running downstairs doing an excitement blowoff on every step.

‘Happy birthday, my darling little Snookyflumps!’ cooed my mum, cuddling me into her bright red fluffy dressing gown.

‘Thanks Mumsy Wumsy!’ I smiled, wriggling out of her cuddle and staring at the ginormous pile of presents sitting on our kitchen table.

In the middle of the pile sat a huge box covered in shiny silver paper.

‘Fandabby-keelness 1!’ I cried, doing a bum-wiggle dance until my pyjama bottoms fell down.

I knew exactly what was inside the box – a SHNOZINATOR 9000!

I twizzled one of my eyeballs over to the present list I’d stuck on the fridge door nineteen and three-quarter weeks before.

It said:

My mum spotted me looking at the list. ‘Ooh that reminds me,’ she said. ‘What did you do at school yesterday?’

‘Erm . . . answer boring questions mostly,’ I said, giving myself a mini salute for being so funny.

My mum did a face like a kangaroo eating a hedgehog and I dived into the presents, grabbing a squidgy jumperish-feeling one. 2

‘Hmmm . . . let me guess – a yellow hoodie?’ I smiled, ripping it open. I’m famous for wearing yellow hoodies, in case you didn’t know.

Inside the wrapping paper was a white polo neck jumper.

‘Thought it’d make a change from all your yellow hoodies!’ chuckled my dad.

‘Plus it’s just like the one Wolf Tizzler wears in his adverts!’ said my mum, and I did a bday eye-roll because I’m comperleeterly bored of hearing my mum go on about Wolf Tizzler the whole time.

Wolf Tizzler is the annoying child genius who invented the ‘ZOOM-E-BROOM’, a new kind of broom with microscopic wheels on the ends of its bristles.

Wolf Tizzler’s always on TV doing adverts about how the microscopic wheels are supposed to make the ZOOM-E-BROOM go faster when you’re sweeping up.

I think my mum thinks Wolf Tizzler would be the most perfect son ever.

‘Thanks Mum, thanks Dad,’ I said, not that I really wanted a white polo neck jumper.

‘Don’t thank us, it’s from Desmond!’ said my dad.

‘Thanks Desmond,’ I said, even though I knew there was no way my baby brother had gone into a Feeko’s supermarket and bought me a Wolf Tizzler polo neck jumper all on his own.

I reached down and patted him on the head.

‘Me got a biskit!’ shouted Desmond, who was sitting on the floor with his bum squidged into a potty.

He took a bite of the dinosaur-shaped biscuit he was holding. ‘Me not want biskit!’ he spluttered, spraying bits of biscuit all over the kitchen tiles.

‘No probbles!’ said my mum, grabbing her ZOOM-E-BROOM and sweeping the crumbs into a dustpan. ‘Thanks to its microscopic bristle-wheel technology, the ZOOM-E-BROOM is up to ninety per cent faster than the next-fastest broom on the market!’ she smiled.

‘Isn’t that what that Rolf Twizzler kid says in his adverts?’ said my dad.

‘Ooh, he’s such a clever boy!’ cooed my mum.