Bogey Boy and the Super Snot

Chapter 2 - The Bogey Bungee

Chapter 2 – The Bogey Bungee

Simon woke the next morning thinking about the Super Snot and his new Snot Shot which he was looking to practicing. Remembering why he had had to give up yesterday he anxiously gave a sniff, and sure enough, there was the gurgling growl of a good, bunged up nose. He felt the familiar tingle of a running nose above his top lip and, resisting the urge to stick out his tongue and gobble it up hungrily as he normally would, he gave a short, sharp sniff and sucked it back up his nose. He would need to save that for later. Every drop, he thought, was precious.

He gobbled up his breakfast quickly and disappeared out into the garden ready to practice the Snot Shot. He pulled out a small amount of mucus from his nose and rubbed it gently between his thumb and index finger. If felt springy and slimy like frog spawn. This particular dollop, he decided, was a bit on the small side and he flicked it to the ground so he could practice his Snot Shot properly. To his surprise, the Super Snot shot earthwards and sprung back to his finger. He had forgotten just how elastic the Super Snot was. He flicked it down again, and again it shot back up. It was just like a green, slimy yoyo.

Simon carried on like this for a while enjoying his new game. Every few minutes he would give the football which was still lying out in the garden a kick against the garage wall so his mum would think he was playing proper (hygienic) games.  He wiped his finger clean ready to try some more Snot Shot practice. He took careful aim at an apple sitting midway up the tree. Next doors cat, also halfway up the tree did a swift vanishing trick having learned it’s lesson the day before. Simon shot a long string of snot into the tree but missed the apple he was aiming for by at least 30 centimetres.

“Rats!”

He tried again.

“Rats!”

Simon tried for a third time, this time the green missile splattered with a ‘gloop’ against a round, green apple. Simon, despite this apparent success, sighed dejectedly. It wasn’t the apple he’d been aiming for. In fact, it wasn’t even near the apple he’d been aiming for. But he was still new to this after all. He gave the apple a sharp tug and the apple shot from the tree towards him, through his hands and bounced with a hard thud off the top off the top his head knocking him to the ground with a rough bump. As Simon stroked the growing lump which was appearing on his head, he rubbed the apple on his t-shirt and bit into it.

“Alright Snotbags?” came a concerned voice from upstairs. Simon looked up and saw his Mum looking out the window. Simon knew she hadn’t seen what he was doing as she wasn’t shouting.

“Err…yeah, fine”, called Simon pulling himself to his feet.  “Just tripped.”

Knowing that his mum was around at the moment, he decided it was safer to play the football for a little while. He kicked the ball against the garage wall imagining himself taking a free kick for England in the World Cup final and then being through on goal and scoring in the top corner. He did a quick lap of honour around the garden as the crowd cheered uncontrollably, caught up in the moment, Simon kicked the ball into the appreciative crowd and it sailed into the seats at the back of the packed stadium.  What actually happened in real life was that Simon kicked the ball hard against the garage wall and it bounced off, ricocheting off the drainpipe on the side of the house and rebounded back onto the roof of the garage and out of sight.

“Rats!” Simon puffed. He couldn’t see the ball and that meant he couldn’t use the Snot Shot to bring it back. He walked around to the back the garage where it met the garden fence and began to hoist himself up. By climbing up the fence he could then reach up pull himself up onto the roof. Getting down would be a bit trickier but he’d done it a hundred times before. He walked over the roof to where his football lay and kicked it lazily down onto the lawn. From here he had a great view over the neighbourhood gardens. Everything looked so different from above. Mrs May’s enormous and uncontrollable dog Cuddles looked much less intimidating.  None of the socks of Old Mr Weeble’s washing line matched and Simon deduced that the children who cleaned Mrs Hoppet’s car for two pounds obviously couldn’t reach the top as there was a big dirty patch on the roof.

            Harry sat with his legs dangling over the side observing the world and thinking about nothing. He picked at his nose out of habit and played absent mindedly with it’s contents between it’s fingers. It was a good job his mother couldn’t see him. He wiped the large blob off the end of his finger and onto the rough, grey surface of the roof where he sat. It left a glossy silvery patch and glistened like a snail trail. Cleaning his finger on his trousers he patrolled the edge of the roof looking for the best way to get down. As he passed the spot where he had been sitting, he put his heal down on the slick patch of mucus and he felt his foot slide forward so quickly that he though it would tear his legs apart. His legs disappeared from under him and he felt himself falling. As if happening in slow motion, Simon felt the warmth drain from his body as he realised that he was falling past the garage roof towards the hard ground beneath. He clasped his hands over this head and curled up as he tumbled downwards head first. He shut his eyes, the air whistling past his ears and a cold sick feeling filled his stomach. He braced himself and waited the sudden pain of hitting the ground. He waited for the bone shattering thud. He waited…and he waited. Eventually, growing tired of waiting to hit the ground Simon opened one eye, then the other. He remembered how different everything had looked from the garage roof. Once again everything looked different, only this time in an upside-down sort of way.

            It took Simon a few seconds to realise what was going on. Looking around he realised that he was hanging upside down from the garage by one foot. His head was dangling arms length from the ground and his foot was suspended by a thick, gooey strand of green snot.

            “It’s like a bungee”, thought Simon. “It’s a Bogey Bungee. Wicked!”

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