Sunday, 29 June 2008

7. Funch is a litter bug

"So who would like to audition for the BillyMo part?" asked Mrs Egg.

But no one put their hand up.
This was the fourth time she'd asked for someone to step up from the audience, but each time no one had responded.

Funch sat at the back with her portable stool tucked under her bum.

Mrs Egg was distraught. She'd spent the past week preparing the audition scripts, and now it would never see the light of day. Worse than that, think of all the wasted paper.
"Here comes the Litter Bug,
coming to take you away in his mug.
His mug of tea, it tastes of wee.
So recycle or dispose of things carefully"

went the TV ad.

Funch was holding a mug.
She was very happy to be able to do so.
The steroid treatment was going well, soon enough she'd be picking up cars and throwing them around the place.

She felt bigger.
She felt stronger.
Looking at herself in the mirror she could see the results.
Her knees and nose had grown substantially, and this was only just the beginning.

The doctor had said it'd have a gradual effect.
"You'll get there bit by bit."

So it all made sense.
Probably next week she'd grow massive biceps,
and the week after her calves would double in size.
In just a few weeks she would have grown into the perfect little girl.

But Funch couldn't wait for that.
The auditions couldn't wait for that.
This was showbiz, and showbiz didn't wait for deformities to be fixed.

She had to act now, or else it would not be her playing BillyMo.
"Miss. Miss. I want to audition!" squeaked our little Funch.

But no one could hear her shrill cry.
"Miss, Miss. I want to be BillyMo!" she shouted once more.

But she could still not be heard.

On the stage Mrs Egg was in tears. In tears and tearing up her pile of scripts. The tears and the tears mixing together, perfect for tomorrow's papier-mache class.

Funch tried to get off her little stool, but it was very difficult.
In order to see the stage she had to be raised up so high that it was dangerous for her to jump down. But she could do it. She fell to the floor with a thud, landing in a pool of sticky stuff that someone had conveniently left beneath her seat.

With sticky stuff stuck in her hair and splashed on her clothes she ran to the stage as fast as her little legs could carry her.
She was in such a rush that'd she'd forgot to leave her mug behind.
She ran up the steps and stood next to her crying teacher.
"Let it be me miss, let me be BillyMo" she said.

But still she was not heard.
Mrs Egg was so distraught she just kept throwing scraps of paper over her head, straight onto Funch.

Sticky stuff, paper, tears.
It's not a good combination if you don't want to end up looking like a oddly shaped ball of unrecycled waste paper.

But it worked out in Funch's favour.
"Please Miss, turn round. Stop throwing stuff at me, and let me be BillyMo!"

Mrs Egg turned around.
The Litter Bug had caught her in the act.

And because of this Funch was going to be BillyMo!