a sip. ‘Fancy a boogie, Bazza?’ said a familikeels voice.
I twizzled round and spotted Sharonella Sharalumbus from my class, standing three millimetres away from the end of my nose. Next to her was her friend Fay Snoggles.
‘NO WAY!’ I spluttered, Fronkle spraying all over her and Fay’s shoes.
Sharonella fluttered her eyelashes at me. ‘Lemme know if you change your mind,’ she said, dancing off, and I shuddered like a dog who’s just finished a wee.
After that I jiggled around on the dance floor, doing the Doggy Walk Wiggle with Bunky and Nancy for about nineteen hours. Then all of a non-sudden the song we were dancing to stopped.
Mrs Dongle tapped the microphone with one of her shiny red nails. ‘And now something for all you lovers out there!’ boomed her voice through the speakers.
‘Yuck, did you hear that?’ I said, pretending to puke all over Bunky and Nancy’s trainers. ‘DJ Dongles just called us lovers!’
Mrs Dongle pressed a button and a Frankie Teacup song started to warble out of the speakers.
Frankie Teacup is my dad’s favourite singer, in case you didn’t know. He’s so old he isn’t even alive anymore.
‘Ooh, Banana Moon - that’s my gran’s favourite!’ squawked Sharonella, and she twizzled round on the spot, looking for someone to have a smoochy jiggle with.
I stepped backwards a millimetre, remembering how she’d fluttered her eyelashes at me earlier. ‘Let’s get the keelness out of here,’ I cried, grabbing Bunky and Nancy and zooming off the dance floor.
‘Hide!’ I whispered, zig-zagging over to the huge triangle of Cherry Fronkle cans, which by the way was right next to the emergency exit.
‘Hey!’ shouted Bunky, skidding to a stop. ‘I was enjoying that song.’ He looked back at the dance floor where Anton was still doing his loserish robot dance.
‘What are you, crazy?’ I said, ducking behind the cans. ‘You wanna end up dancing with a GIRL?’
‘Or even worse - a BOY!’ said Nancy, pretending to puke all over my trainers.
Gordon Smugly, who’s the smuggest, ugliest person in our class, wandered up to us.
‘It’s dangerous out there,’ he said, plucking a salt and vinegar crisp out of a ginormous bowl and slotting it into his annoying mouth. ‘I had to get off the dance floor before Sharonella pounced on me.’
‘Oh please,’ said Nancy. ‘Even Shazza’s not that desperate.’
Stuart Shmendrix, who’s sort of like Gordon’s sidekick, trundled over all sweatily. ‘Phew, that was close,’ he said, grabbing a Cherry Fronkle. ‘Did you see the way Fay Snoggles was staring at my bum?’
‘Listen to you losers!’ chuckled Bunky. ‘What are you afraid of ?’ And he bopped back on to the dance floor.
‘Be careful, Bunky!’ I cried, but it was too late, he was gone.
Stuart cracked his Fronkle open and me, him, Nancy and Gordon watched all loserishly as Bunky waggled his legs around on the dance floor.
Sharonella and Fay were circling him like cats about to pounce on a very stupid, bum-wiggling mouse.
I rested my hand on the lever that opens the emergency exit door, getting ready to escape if Shazza spotted me. ‘Poor old Bunkster,’ I said. ‘Silly doggy doesn’t know how much trouble he’s in.’
Bunky’s sort of like my human pet dog, in case that last bit sounded weird.
Just then, Darren Darrenofski from our class wobbled out of the boys’ toilets. He was doing his flies up while holding a Fronkle at the same time, which isn’t an easy thing to do.
‘Darren!’ whisper-shouted Stuart. ‘Get over here before the girls spot you.’
But Frankie Teacup was singing too loud for Darren to hear.
‘Hey, what’s Shazza doing?’ said Nancy, and I spotted her on the dance floor, swinging an invisible lasso around in the air like she was a cowgirl.
‘That’s a funny old dance move isn’t it,’ I said, sounding like a bit of a granny, and I treated myself to a cheese and onion crisp for being so loserish.
‘The woman’s gone completely stark raving bonkers,’ said Gordon, not that I was listening to him.
I was too busy spotting one of Nancy’s trainers.
What Nancy’s trainer was doing
‘What in the name of unkeelness?’ I gasped, staring at Nancy’s left foot. ‘Your trainer - it’s . . . tapping to the music!’
‘Careful Nance,’ chuckled Gordon. ‘You’ll be dancing with Mildew next.’
Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘As if, Smugly,’ she said, and I tried to spot Bunky on the dance floor, but he’d disappeared behind a cloud of purple smoke.
Over
