Jelly Beans

Dear Mummy, I hope you can read this, it is really hard to write because it is hard to hold a pencil with a webbed hand.

It isn't really my fault. I want to blame you for trying to maintain in me a belief in Father Christmas. but it isn't your fault either.

I blame the jelly beans.

I awoke at four this morning and found a stocking at the foot of my bed, it was full of stuff that I don't really need but which makes you feel like a good mum but you don't need to do anything more than just be to be a good mum. Jelly beans are good though and if you find a box of jelly beans at four in the morning you are going to eat them and as one in ten jelly beans taste like poo you are going to eat them ten at a time to hide the taste of the poo one.

Sometimes when you eat ten jelly beans at once one escapes and that is what happened this morning. I hoped it wasn't a poo flavoured one that escaped otherwise if you found it you'd think I had poo'd in my bed. I couldn't find the escaped bean and then I fell asleep.

I woke up a bit later, I don't know what time because the watch you gave me last Christmas is broken and I haven't yet got the new one I am no doubt going to get this year.

Anyway.

I woke up to find a jellybean stalk growing out of my bed and then out of the window. I know enough about fairy tales to know that I had to climb it and would be rewarded by stuff like harps and gold once I had defeated a giant.

I started climbing but it didn't go up. It went horizontally out of my window and down the gardens at the back of the house but I climbed it anyway. I climbed it all the way down to 37 Oxford gardens where it disappeared into a window. I sat outside and looked in.

There was a really fat woman sitting in a kitchen, there was nothing on the table except an empty white bowl, there was a goose walking around and the really fat woman was crying but if I were really fat I would cry a lot too, either because I was fat or because I was hungry. Or both.

I climbed in through the window and asked her why she was crying and she said she was crying because she was a vegetarian and the goose had eaten all her sprouts and sprouts was all she had had for Christmas.

I did some really quick thinking and said don't worry, my mum has some sprouts at home, I'm sure she can spare some, I'll go and get them. I climbed back across the beanstalk to our place and got the sprouts. I also picked up a bag of carrots which were in the fridge. I climbed back to the fat ladies house.

When I gave her the sprouts she was pleased and her wails turned to sniffs. When I gave her the carrots she beamed, there was a loud crash and a flash and she turned into a beautiful thin woman with red lipstick.

She said 'Thank you so much because I was put under a spell by a wicked witch and could only be changed back to a kitchen goddess by an innocent boy giving me a carrot'.

She also said that she was no longer a vegetarian and she eyed the goose in a lascivious way.

I liked the goose. I grabbed the goose and ran.

I was used to the beanstalk by now and could move pretty quick but I knew that the kitchen goddess was hot on my tail. I made it back to my room then cut the beanstalk with my Alladin sword I got for my birthday. Jellybean stalks are cool because the minute you cut them they turn to jelly and I heard the kitchen goddess falling into the ornamental pond at number 16 causing the frog who lived there to croak a bit.

I was left here with a goose and I didn't know how I was going to explain a goose in my room but that was the least of my problems because the goose turned to me and thanked me before kissing me on the forehead and then flying out the window before I had time to explain that I had been turned into a small boy by a kind witch and the only way to turn me back into a frog was by being KISSED BY A GOOSE.

So mummy, It's me.

Not a frog.

You could try kissing me. It might work.

The pink slippers.

Jill lived in a small cottage at the edge of the wood. The wood that stopped the village growing into something bigger that way.

Jill lived with her mother. Her father (a pirate) had gone to sea and not come back when Jill was very small. She did not miss him because she could not remember him and photographs had not been invented yet.

Jill's mother did not miss him either, but for other reasons.

Jill and her mother were very poor and sometimes went without food. Jill's mum was very thin; had she been around today she would be a supermodel but as it was then she was just very thin.

Mum did washing and cleaning in the village to earn their meagre income. She had very painful aches in her feet; some days she could hardly walk.

This made her grumpy. When her feet ached at the same time as she was thinking about the pirate she was very very grumpy indeed.

One grumpy day Jill's mum handed her a few coins and asked her to go to the market to buy something for them to eat that evening.

'This is the last of our money' She said. 'So be careful how you spend it'.

'Yes mum'. Said Jill.

On the way to the market Jill met a little old man. He was carrying a sack as well as leading a cow on a piece of string. The cow was brown and white. The string was blue.

It was the exact colour of the sky and Jill's eyes and the ribbon in her hair.

'Hello Jill'. Said the old man.

'How do you know my name?' said Jill.

'I know everything'. he said. 'And I have just the thing you need in my bag'. He put the bag on the ground and started rummaging through it.

'If it is magic beans I don't want them'. Said Jill. 'Magic beans caused a load of trouble for my friend Jack'.

'Not beans'. Chuckled the old man. 'These'. He held up a pair of pink furry slippers. Not only were they pink they had a nose, two glass eyes and two ears. They looked like little pink puppies.

Jill thought them very cute and told the old man so, adding that she did not have money for slippers as they were very poor and only had money for food.

'They are not for you' He said. 'They are for your mother, they are magic slippers. They will stop the aches in her feet, sort out pirate problems and make you comfortably rich'.

Jill bought the slippers from the old man, thanked him then turned around to walk home hoping that her mother had stopped thinking about the pirate and would not be too grumpy.

Jill was out of luck. She was packed off to her room without supper (there wasn't any supper anyway) even after explaining that they were magic slippers which would cure her feet (she didn't dare say 'and your grumpiness').

When Jill was in bed and fast asleep her mother slipped her aching feet into the slippers.

The aches disappeared immediately, the memory of her aches went too taking her grumpiness with it. She smiled as she danced up the stairs and into Jill's room to kiss her gently on the forehead.

'Darling child'. She whispered. Life got very much better after that.

A few weeks later a strange thing happened: The pirate came back.

The pirate came back and they found him in the kitchen with a blank look on his face.

'Hello'. He said. 'I've lost my memory'.

'Then how did you find your way here?' Jill's mother asked frostily.

'I don't know'.

The pirate went on to tell them that he lost his memory many years before when hit on the head by a coconut falling from a tree. He could remember everything after that but nothing from before but somehow he had instinctively found his way home. He then went on to say that he had hidden a big bag of gold coins in the house before he left all those years ago.

Sadly he could not remember where it was hidden.

They spent the rest of the day searching for the gold without luck until it was bed time and the pirate slung his hammock between two trees in the orchard and bid them good night.

Unbeknown to the pirate a pair of really nasty pirates has followed him to the cottage in the hope of finding and stealing the gold for themselves. They broke into the cottage noiselessly but did not expect the noisy floorboard in the hallway.

It creaked loudly as noisy floorboards do.

Jill's mum (who had been sitting up late thinking about the return of the pirate) heard the creaking board from her bedroom, put on her slippers then went out onto the landing to see who it was. When she reached the top of the stairs she was horrified to see the brigands below her.

One of them drew his sword and started up the stairs.

Suddenly the slippers on her feet started yapping madly and straining to get to the intruders. They tugged so hard that Jill's mum sat down with a bump. The slippers tugged some more and she went bump, bump, bump down the stairs on her bum.

On the 13th stair there was a crack and a crash instead of a bump. The board had broken and her bum became stuck fast.

The slippers tugged and tugged so much that they flew off her feet, down the remaining stairs and at the ankles of the intruders, biting them very nastily.

The pirates turned and fled the cottage running screamingly up the lane towards the moor the little puppy slippers close on their heels.

Jill and her father had heard the commotion and came to her aid; they prised her out from her predicament and when she stood up the broken board was still stuck to her backside.

And there in the hole where the stair had been lay a large canvas bag.

'Ah. That's where I hid my gold.' Said the memoryless pirate.

Of course they all lived happily ever after. No aching feet, no grumpiness and definitely no more pirating.

They never saw the brigands again. Or the slippers. But on still nights an eerie yapping and screaming could be heard far off on the moors.

The man in the smelly fur coat.

I got on to the 24 bus at South End Green and climbed up the stairs hoping to find the front seat empty. I like the front seat, it is the best seat on the bus, it makes you duck when you come to bridges and low trees and the corner of the bus above your head is crumpled like an old coke tin from hitting things.
Dad says that you know when you've grown up when you no longer want to sit at the front of the bus. Dad still sits in the front seat... Mum doesn't anymore!

The bus was completely full except for one seat next to a funny little man in an enormous brown fur coat. I sat down beside him and assumed the position; the position is how us teenagers have to sit, grown ups call it slouching but it is not slouching.. A lot of research and hard work goes into assuming the position. The key point is that one leg must be stuck out into the aisle threatening to trip other passengers. You could spend a lifetime tweaking the assumed position and never get bored.

I soon found out why no-one else was sitting next to the funny little man... He stank!

The smell was horrible, it reminded me of the time Zippy Gazelle our kitten pood in a gumboot one summer and no-one found it until bonfire night. We still don't know how he got his bum up onto the gumboot without it falling over; Fizz, my brother, said he pood in the boot when it was lying down and then pushed it upright. Cats are clever like that, he said.

Dad found the cat poo in the gumboot with his foot.

I looked at the smelly old man and said: 'It's not very politically correct to wear animal skins, is it?'

He looked at me with one eye. The other eye looked at something else. 'It's OK when the bear has given you the coat himself'. He said in a not very good American accent like an English actor pretending to be a cowboy in a rubbish film.

'It stinks'. I said.

'So would you if you'd been wrapped round a bear all your life'.

I asked him how he got it and he told me this weird story without his cowboy accent.

He said: 'I test out stories for childrens comic books. The government says that all the things that comic characters do must be possible in real life, otherwise children would end up with unrealistic expectations when they grow up. So anyway I try out the things they do. I got this coat when I was testing a fight between a grizzly bear and Desperate Dan for the Beano comic; I went to America and looked for the biggest meanest grizzly I could find, there were lots of small ones but not very many the size I wanted.
One day I went out looking and forgot to take my coat and as expected, because it was in the story, a blizzard arrived with a grizzly inside it. The grizzly was also inside a lovely warm fur coat.
I looked at that fur coat and the bear looked at me looking at that coat and we both knew what we were going to fight about.

We wrestled and we wrastled, we pooh poohed the rules, we clinched and he clawed, we snarled and we growled. The fight lasted all afternoon til finally I did a brilliant body slam on him and then got him in a full nelson. "I submit, I submit". The bear said so I let him up and he got to his feet, eyed me admiringly then took off his fur coat and handed it to me... He went off into the woods shivering and what I thought was a woodpecker was the sound of his knees knocking together.

So thats how I got this fur coat and that's why it is ok for me to wear it'.

I was laughing like mad by the time he finished his story, if fizz had been there he would have wet himself like he does when dad tells his funny stories.

I didn't call the smelly old man a liar because his story had been so good. I asked him if he was working on something and where was he going?... He said he was doing a story about a Zebra that has escaped from the zoo and is rampaging through Camden market right now and he has to get off the bus, grab a purple scarf from a man in a pale coat then leap on the zebra using the scarf as reins and gallop off back to the zoo.

I smiled as he reached over and pressed the red dinger that told the driver you wanted to get off, then he squeezed smellily past me, said 'good afternoon' and walked down the steps as the bus stopped at Camden market.

As the bus stopped at Camden market there was a yell from the crowds and a panicking zebra ran from between some stalls. I watched the old man leap from the bus, grab a purple scarf from around the neck of a man in a pale coat, jump onto the zebra, and using the scarf as reins, gallop off down the canal tow path towards the zoo.

One eyed Jake.

1. How Jake got his name.

Jake wasn't always called Jake. When he was born his mother named him Ishmail.

Jake decided to change his name when he was eight years old.

When he was eight years old his father, who was a sailor, didn't come home so his mother set out to find him. She left Ishmail with his uncle and aunt and set out around the world.

As you would expect Ishmails uncle and aunt turned out to be very wicked people who made the boy work long hours in their fish and chip shop in Torquay. He was frequently battered!

One day when Ishmail was reading a book called Moby Dick; a very good book about a whale (except for the boring bits) his aunt said: 'Ishmail. Put that stupid book down and come and clean the fryer'.

'Stop calling me Ishmail'. He replied. These were the last words He ever spoke for many years.

He decided there and then to change his name to Jake and to become a pirate. As luck would have it that very night a pirate Ship called the Gimlet anchored off the coast very close to Torquay. Jake put some clothes and a letter in a pigs bladder to keep them dry and swam out to the ship, he climbed up the anchor rope and onto the deck where he greatly surprised the lookout, Blind Pugh.
When Pugh had got over his surprise he rang the brass bell to summon the captain and the rest of the pirates.

The captain, who was called Big Pat because he was big and his name was Pat, arrived on deck rubbing the sleep from his eyes and straightening his pyjamas which had pink skulls and crossbones on them ( a present from the crew on his last birthday). He was followed by a raggle-taggle collection of yawning seamen.

'What's this then?' He said when he caught sight of Jake. Jake said nothing but undid the pigs bladder and passed a letter to the captain. The letter said:

Dear Pirates, My name is Jake and I don't talk. I'd like to run away to sea and become a pirate so that I can search for my mum and my dad who seem to have got lost. I am a hard worker and know how to cook fish and chips.

'Well boy'. Said Big Pat. 'We would love to have you join us aboard the gimlet but the only problem is that you need to be able to say AYE AYE when I gives you an order, if you don't say aye aye how will I know that you heard me.'

Jake said nothing for a while, and then said nothing for a while more after that. Finally he took a deep breath and said 'AYE'.

From that moment on Jake became a member of the politically correct crew of the good ship Gimlet and Acquired the name 'One Eyed Jake'.

One eyed Jake aged 16 (life at sea was tough back then) Attempting to scare the owner of a basket shop in Cleethorpes. He failed and was made to pay full price for a set of panniers for his burro!

How to write a story...

Imagine. Imagine like crazy and then imagine some more. Imagine all the exciting things you'd like to do and then imagine them happening in your town or village. Then imagine them happening to you which is much more likely now that they are happening near by. In fact it would be hard to avoid them happening to you... You'd have to stay indoors, under the kitchen table (stroking the cat, if you have got one handy) with the table-cloth pulled down low making a tent to keep you hidden from your stories!
Then when the stories start happening write them down in a book (any colour book will do) with a noisy pen. As a beginner you will find it helpful to stick your tongue out the side of your mouth a little way. this also convinces your mum and dad that you are deep in creative thought and not available to give advice on the complicated things that they don't understand but you do!
When you have finished writing your story read it aloud to see how it feels. You might want to read it very quietly at first until it gets used to the outside. then you can read it louder and to real people.
Try not to laugh too much at the funny bits.
It helps to dress up when reading your story; this is called being in character. Every-body dresses up in this way, even city bankers when they want to tell bank stories (these stories are rarely funny which is why bankers don't laugh much, except on their way to the bank). Soldiers dress up a lot, so do nurses and traffic wardens. Burlesque dancers are the exception to the rule; they undress to tell their stories.
At the end of your story put a very loud full stop.