Danny Baker Record Breaker (5): The World's Itchiest Pants (11 page)

Gwyneth marched towards them, honking loudly.

Danny gulped. ‘What’s Welsh for “Silly-billy-dilly-dally-bing-bang-bong”?’ he asked Sally.

‘I think that
is
Welsh,’ she replied.

Luckily, at that moment, Bush and Bunny ran from their huts to see what had caused the commotion.

‘Caught these two snooping around after Lights Out, we did,’ said Llewellyn, calling Gwyneth to heel and slipping a lead around her neck. The goose honked once at Danny and Sally,
fixing them with her beady yellow eyes.

‘I’m sorry, you two,’ said Bush. ‘You know the rules. You’re gonna have to do the Poo-wiggly-wig Wipe-up: scrape off the sloppy leftovers from every meal, and wash
up the dish mountain!’

Sally turned and glared at Danny. ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ she snapped.

‘You started it, Buttyworm!’ he replied.

Bunny Grylls wagged her finger at him. ‘Now that’s no way to speak to your girlfriend,’ she said.

Danny growled with frustration. ‘SHE’S . . . NOT . . . MY. . . GIRLFRIEND!’

Next morning, the Wakey-wakey Hooter parped through the forest, blasting the campers from their sweet dreams. It stopped, and for a moment there was silence in the camp. Then
shrill shrieks from the girls’ hut sliced through the peace and quiet.

Danny hung upside down from his bunk bed, grinning at Matthew.

The boys spilt out into the courtyard to see what was happening as a stream of screaming, spider-infested girls barged from their hut.

Sally Butterworth burst through the door. A delicate silver web stretched from her ear to her shoulder, and a spider as big as a biscuit swung from her nose.

Danny sauntered over to her and gently lifted the spider on to the ground. ‘Soppy-Sally-dillydally-bing-bang-bong,’ he said.

‘Dopey-Danny-dilly-dally-bing-bang-bong to you!’ she yelled, brushing at her arms and legs and shaking her head to get any spiders out of her pigtails. ‘With knobs
on!’

Danny grinned.

‘You!’ she growled.

‘Me!’ replied Danny, scratching his left armpit.

Vicky Wilmott strolled over to them. ‘Silly-billy-dilly-dally-bing-bang-bong, Matt,’ she said. Her head was enveloped in a shining cap of silvery webs, and the dozen tiny spiders
that had spun them.

Thanks. I like spiders.’

‘They
don’t,’ said Danny, grinning at a group of girls who seemed to be doing a strange dance, running round in circles, screeching wildly and waving their arms about
their heads.

‘Don’t be soft, girls!’ said Bunny Grylls, wading into the hysterical mob. ‘At least they’re not poisonous like the ones back home. On my first trip into the
Australian outback, I woke up one morning covered in deadly Burrumbuttock Bottom-biter spiders. I had to sit on a wombat for three days to neutralize the effects of the venom!’

Danny rubbed his elbow, then scraped at his knee. He noticed Matthew standing on one leg to scratch his toes. Six or seven of the other boys from his hut were scratching themselves
furiously.

‘I’ve got fleas!’ cried Jimmy Sedgley.

Danny glared at Sally. ‘You!’

‘Me!’ she answered. ‘That makes us even!’

Bush picked one of the fleas off Jimmy and examined the insect closely. ‘Holy Dooley! This is the Snowdonian Fidgeting Flea,’ he said. ‘These little beauties produce
five-hundred and sixty-nine flea-babies every hour! It’s no wonder you’re all crawling. They make you itch like blazes!’

He went into the boys’ hut and emerged a minute later with a family of spiky and not-too-warty hedgehogs in a cardboard box. ‘Just as I thought: I found these little fellas snuffling
around under your beds,’ he said. ‘
That’s
why you’re all jumping with fleas.’

‘Fab!’ cried Vicky.

‘Cool!’ agreed Matthew.

Bush turned to Danny and Sally. ‘Don’t forget, you two: from today, and for the rest of the week, you’re doing the Poo-wiggly-wig Wipe-up: scrape up the slops and wash the dish
mountain!’

‘Bet I can slop and wash more dishes than you,’ scowled Sally.

‘There’s only one way to find out,’ replied Danny. ‘Go for your dishcloth!’

Poo-wiggly-wig Adventure Centre

Wales

Dear Mr Bibby

This place is Bug Central! I managed to collect 1,899 spiders, and me and Matt let them loose in the girls’ hut last night. They were not happy.

The girls had the last laugh though, because Sally Butterworth hid some flea-infested hedgehogs in
our
hut, and this morning every one of us was covered with fleas. Matt
and his new friend Vicky Wilmott counted a total of 22,371 fleas on all the boys. Jimmy Sedgley had 18,423 all to himself. Our Leader, Bush Tucker, says Jimmy must have very tasty blood.

We’ve all been fumigated again. Ace! Jimmy was wondering if he had broken a world record with his flea-count, so I said I’d ask you.

Best wishes

Danny Baker

The Great Big Book
of World Records
London