Selby Scrambled (8 page)
Authors: Duncan Ball
HIYA FLEUR,
THANX FOR YOUR EMAIL. HAPPY BIRTHDAY FOR NEXT WEEK! I HOPE YOU GET LOTS OF GREAT PRESSIES. I’M SO GLAD THAT YOU LIKE MY BOOKS. I’M REALLY SORRY BUT I CAN’T TELL YOU MY REAL NAME. I NEVER TELL
ANYONE
SO DON’T TAKE IT PERSONALLY.
CYA,
SELBY
DEAREST SELBY,
PRETTY PLEASE WITH SUGAR ON TOP TELL ME YOUR REAL NAME. I JUST HAVE TO KNOW. I WON’T READ YOUR BOOKS ANYMORE IF YOU DON’T TELL ME.
YOUR BESTEST FRIEND,
FLEURINA
HIYA FLEURINA,
YOU WON’T READ MY BOOKS ANYMORE? NOW YOU’VE HURT MY FEELINGS.
CYA,
SELBY
DEAREST SWEETEST SELBY THE MOST WONDERFUL DOG IN THE WORLD,
I’M SO SORRY. I WAS JUST KIDDING. I WILL ALWAYS READ YOU BOOKS EVEN WHEN I’M TOO OLD FOR THEM. HONESTLY YOU ARE MY VERY FAVE DOG IN THE UNIVERSE AND I JUST HAVE TO KNOW YOUR REAL NAME. I PROMISE, PROMISE, PROMISE I WON’T TELL EVEN IF THEY HOLD ME DOWN AND TICKLE ME TO DEATH.
ILYH (I LOVE YOU HEAPS),
FLEUR
HIYA FLEUR,
SORRY BUT THE ANSWER IS STILL NOPE.
CYA,
SELBY
DEAREST WONDERFUL SELBY,
WHY NOT? IT’S ONLY LITTLE ME AND I WON’T TELL A SINGLE-BINGLE SOUL.
YOUR BEST FRIEND, HONEST FLEUR
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
HIYA HONEST FLEUR,
HERE’S MY PROBLEM: IF I TELL ANYONE MY REAL NAME THEN THEY MIGHT TELL SOMEONE ELSE. AND THAT SOMEONE ELSE WILL TELL
SOMEONE ELSE. SOONER OR LATER SOMEONE WILL SAY, ‘HEY, THERE’S A DOG WITH THAT NAME LIVING IN MY TOWN’. BEFORE I KNOW IT THERE WILL BE HUGE CROWDS OUTSIDE MY HOUSE TAKING PICTURES OF ME AND TRYING TO GET ME TO TALK.
MY LIFE WOULD BE RUINED!
BESIDES, THE TRIFLES MIGHT MAKE ME WORK AROUND THE HOUSE. I DON’T WANT TO BE THEIR SERVANT. I JUST WANT TO BE THEIR PET.
CYA,
SELBY
DEAR SELBY,
DON’T WORRY! I ABSOTIVELY POSILUTELY WON’T TELL ANYONE!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON’T YOU TRUST ME? DO YOU THINK I’M NOT JUST A LITTLE GIRL BUT REALLY SOME SORT OF RICH AND POWERFUL EVIL GENIUS WHO LIVES IN THE TALLEST BUILDING IN THE BIGGEST CITY IN THE WORLD AND OWNS LOTS OF TV STATIONS AND WILL FIND YOU AND MAKE YOU TALK ON TV AND MAKE HEAPS AND HEAPS MORE MONEY? IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK THAT?
LOVE FROM THE GORGEOUS, WONDERFUL, BRILLIANT, AND TALENTED
FLEURINA, THE GIRL WHO IS GOING PLACES (BUT NOT TO BOGUSVILLE SO DON’T WORRY.)
Selby paced around the trifles’ study.
‘I Don’t want to hurt her feelings,’ He thought. ‘She sounds like a nice kid. How can i make her understand that if i tell anyone my real name I’ll never feel safe again? that every time a car door opens in the middle of the night I’ll wake up in a panic? that I’ll never be able to go out without looking at people and wondering if they’re about to dognap me?’
HIYA FLEURINA,
OF COURSE I TRUST YOU AND OF COURSE I DON’T THINK YOU’RE AN EVIL GENIUS WHO OWNS TV STATIONS AND WANTS TO MAKE HEAPS MORE MONEY BY TELLING THE WORLD MY SECRET. BUT WHAT IF I TOLD YOU MY NAME AND OKAY YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO TELL ANYONE BUT YOU TALKED IN YOUR SLEEP AND SOMEONE HEARD YOU? THEN MY SECRET WOULD BE OUT. SO PLEASE DON’T ASK ME AGAIN BECAUSE I REALLY AND TRULY CAN’T TELL YOU. AND THAT’S FINAL.
CYA,
SELBY
‘There are times when I just have to be firm,’ Selby thought. ‘Oh, no, she’s written back already.’
DEAR HANDSOME, BEAUTIFUL (IN CASE YOU’RE
REALLY A GIRL-DOG AND YOU’RE JUST FIBBING ABOUT BEING A BOY-DOG) SELBY, I DON’T TALK IN MY SLEEP, I PROMISE. I KNOW BECAUSE MUM SAYS I DON’T. AND I’M REALLY REALLY GOOD AT KEEPING SECRETS LIKE TWO YEARS AGO I BROKE THE BIG FRONT WINDOW IN OUR HOUSE AND I NEVER TOLD MUM AND DAD I DID IT. BUT IT’S OKAY IF YOU DON’T TELL ME. I UNDERSTAND. I GUESS I WOULDN’T TELL ME EITHER IF I WAS YOU. ANYWAY, I’M FEELING REALLY REALLY SAD BECAUSE GREENIE, MY BUDGIE, DIED LAST WEEKEND. AND NOW BLUEY, MY OTHER BUDGIE, IS ALL ALONE. GREENIE USED TO PECK AT HIM ALL THE TIME BUT I THINK HE LIKED IT. JUST WATCHING BLUEY NOW MAKES ME CRY AND CRY AND CRY BECAUSE HE’S SO SO LONELY.
YOUR VERY VERY TERRIBLY SAD AND UPSET NO. 1 BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD.
LOVE,
FLEUR
‘Poor Fleur,’ Selby thought. ‘It’s tragic when a pet dies. I wish I could cheer her up. Maybe I should tell her my name after all. What harm could it do? Hmmm, I’d better think about it.
I think it’s time for a good long thinkingwalk.’
Selby turned off the computer and started walking. He walked and he walked and he walked and as he walked, he talked and talked to himself.
It went something like this:
‘Okay, let’s just say that I tell Fleur my name and she tells her parents.
Hey, Mum, Dad, guess what? Selby is a real dog! I emailed him and he told me his real name!
Her mother would say,
Don’t be silly. He’s a made-up dog. There’s no such thing as a talking dog.
But, Mum, there is! Selby rings up Duncan Ball and tells him his stories. Duncan writes them down. The books are true!
If you say so, dear.
He lives in a country town here in Australia. Now that I know his name we could find him.
Do you know how many towns there are in Australia? There must be thousands of them. Even if he really did exist and you did know his name it could take years to find him.
We could pay a private detective. Selby’s real name is kinda weird. A detective could find him, I’m sure.
Do you know how much private detectives charge, Fleur
? her dad would say.
And it could take months, or even years. Then what if this Selby doesn’t really exist?
Oh, I guess you’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t look for him.
‘No grown-up is going to believe a kid when she says that I’m a real talking dog,’ Selby thought. ‘Even her friends won’t believe her.’
Selby turned and started for home. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the evil genius who Fleur had made up, the one who owned lots of TV stations. Selby pictured an old man sitting at a huge desk, running his bony fingers through his long, grey hair and staring at his computer. He pictured the man cackling as he pretended to be a little girl in order to get Selby to tell him his real name.
‘I love kids,’ Selby thought. ‘They have such great imaginations.’
That night when the Trifles were sound asleep, Selby sneaked into the study and turned
on the computer once again. And this is what he wrote:
HIYA FLEUR,
I’M SO SORRY THAT GREENIE DIED. MAYBE YOU COULD ASK FOR ANOTHER BUDGIE FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY. NOW LISTEN, I’VE DECIDED TO TELL YOU MY REAL NAME. ARE YOU READY FOR THIS? MY REAL NAME IS ACTUALLY SELBY.
BUT REMEMBER, YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO TELL. ANYONE. EVER. NO. MATTER. WHAT.
Cya,
Selby
‘Phew!’ Selby phewed. ‘I feel good now. I hope that cheers her up. And it was really so easy.’
DEAREST DARLING SELBY,
OH, YOU DEAR DEAR WONDERFUL DOG, YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU ARE SUCH A FANTASTIC DOG! I LOVE YOU TO DEATH! MY LIPS ARE SEALED. MMMMMMMMMMMMM.
LOVE AND HUGS AND KISSES,
FLEUR, THE TIGHT-LIPPED TERROR
Meanwhile, somewhere at the top of the tallest building in the biggest city in the world an evil genius sat behind his enormous desk. He stared at a computer screen and he cackled as he ran his bony fingers through his long, grey hair.
‘Sucked in!’ he cried. ‘Dead budgie. Sad little Fleur. What a mug that mutt is. I practically told him who sad little “Fleur” really was — me! I even mentioned April Fools’ Day, for pity’s sake. Now who’s the April fool? You stupid dog! I’ll teach you to match wits with a rich and powerful genius.’
The old man pushed a button on his desk and a beautiful young woman appeared in the doorway.
‘You seem very happy, sir,’ she said.
‘Yes, Olivia, I’ve just got myself a dog.’
‘But you hate dogs, sir.’
‘This is no ordinary dog. This is the most
extraordinary
dog in the world. And he is about to make me very very rich.’
‘But you’re already very very rich, sir.’
‘True, but I am only the
second
richest person in the world. This dog is about to make me the
richest.
Get me a team of private detectives —
get a hundred of them. Make that a thousand. See if the police will get involved. There’s no time to waste. We’re going on a dog hunt.’
‘Do you mean you don’t know where this new dog of yours is?’
‘I know that he lives in a country town somewhere in Australia. His name is Selby— a very unusual name. We’ll soon find him and get him to talk. And when he talks, everyone in the world will be watching him on my TV stations.’
‘This dog talks?’
‘Oh, yes,’ the old man said. ‘He certainly does.’
A few days later Mrs Trifle came home late from work after a long meeting.
‘Have you heard the news?’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Something very exciting is happening!’
‘What is it?’
‘Do you know the dog in those books? Selby, the talking dog?’
‘Yes, of course. Everyone knows Selby. I’ve often thought that he was a bit like our Selby — only our Selby can’t talk. Why?’
‘Well, it turns out that he’s real. He is an actual real live talking dog.’
‘Noooooooo!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘How can a dog talk?’
‘Apparently it’s true. There’s this live TV show and they reckon they’ve found him. They’re about to catch him and get him to talk. Quick! It’s on TV right now. Everyone in the whole world is watching.’
Dr and Mrs Trifle dashed to the TV and watched a team of detectives quietly surround a house under the cover of darkness.
‘That’s him now,’ one of the detectives whispered. ‘He’s been out for a walk and he’s coming home. Get ready to grab him.’
‘But, hang on, isn’t that the mayor’s dog?’
‘Don’t worry about the mayor. We’re working for Mr Big, and Mr Big doesn’t worry about little mayors of dinky little Australian towns.’
‘But what if the dog won’t talk?’
‘After a few days under a spotlight and not
being able to sleep, he’ll talk. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll hypnotise him. Don’t you worry, one way or another that mongrel will spill the beans.’
Dr and Mrs Trifle watched as the dog walked towards the house. Suddenly floodlights lit up the front yard.
‘Get him, guys!’ a detective yelled, throwing a net over the unsuspecting dog.
’Goodness me,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Now wait just a minute! Isn’t that Denis Dorset’s dog, Powderpuff?’
