Authors: Duncan Ball
This book is for a certain very clever dog.
(I think you know who you are.)
Christmas is a special time of presents, parties, plays, holidays and family get-togethers. Selby loves all these things and he thought it was time to tell me about some of the exciting things that have happened to him around Christmas. Not all the stories in this book are about Christmas itself. There’s an exciting spy story, a really scary one when Selby is caught in the grips of a huge, hungry python, and there’s even a great Gary Gaggs play for you to act out for your family and friends.
As the readers of these books will know, Selby rings me up and tells me his stories and I just write them down. And when he rang me to tell me about his adventure with Santa, I just knew that I had to write this book. I hope you enjoy it.
‘That sneaky guy!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘Have you heard what Denis is up to?’
‘Denis Dorset?’ Dr Trifle said, looking up from his newspaper. ‘The mayor of Poshfield?’
‘Yes, he’s going to dress up like Santa and give out lollies at the new Poshfield Plaza Shopping Mall.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ Selby wondered. ‘I did something like that myself once.’
‘Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that,’ Mrs Trifle went on. ‘What makes me angry is that he’s going to put an ad in the
Bogusville Banner
—
our
newspaper. He wants to get Bogusville people to do all their shopping in Poshfield.’
‘I’ve got news for you,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘The ad is already in the paper. Look.’
Dr Trifle held up a page of the
Bogusville Banner
. It said:
*
DO
ALL YOUR
CHRISTMAS SHOPPING
AT POSHFIELD PLAZA THIS
YEAR. SANTA WILL ARRIVE BY
HELICOPTER THIS SATURDAY AT
1 PM. BRING THE KIDS. FREE LOLLIES!
Mayor
Denis
Dorset
*
‘Our Bogusville shop owners will be very upset,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Every kid in Bogusville will want their parents to take them to see Santa in Poshfield. We can’t do the same thing here in Bogusville because we could never afford to hire a helicopter.’
‘Poshfield Council didn’t
hire
that helicopter,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘They
bought
it.’
‘They’re so rich,’ Mrs Trifle sighed. ‘Remember when Denis heard that we were fixing up our sports field and he built a whole new sports stadium? Or when we were going to paint our town hall and he had a new town hall built in Poshfield? He’d just love to put our shops out of business so everyone would have to shop over there.’
‘Don’t worry about Denis. We’ll beat him at his own game. Have a look at the ad I’ve put in the
Bogusville Banner
,’ Dr Trifle said, turning to the front page:
*
BUY
ALL YOUR
PRESENTS IN
BOGUSVILLE THIS
YEAR. FORGET THE
FAKE
SANTAS! WE’VE
GOT THE REAL SANTA AND
HIS EIGHT REINDEER COMING AT
SUNSET THIS FRIDAY. FREE LOLLIES!
BRING
THE
KIDS!
*
‘What have you done?’ Mrs Trifle cried. ‘You can’t tell people that the real Santa Claus is coming here!’
‘Why not? I also put the same ad in the Poshfield newspaper.’
‘You didn’t! You can’t tell lies like that. When the real Santa doesn’t turn up, the kids will all be crying and their parents will be furious.’
‘But Santa is coming … well, sort of.’
‘Sort of? Whatever made you do this, dear?’
‘Denis did. When I heard he was going to put that ad in the Poshfield newspaper, I thought: what would be better than a mayor in a Santa suit landing in a helicopter? Then something in my head clicked.’
‘I love it when his head clicks,’ Selby thought. ‘Dr Trifle is
soooo
smart!’
‘I knew I couldn’t get the real Santa but I thought: what if I
make
a Santa that everyone thinks is real. Have a look at this.’
Mrs Trifle and Selby followed Dr Trifle into the backyard. There, standing on the grass, was a very strange thing.
‘Goodness me!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘A plastic horse with TV antennas sticking out of its head.’
‘That’s RR1,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Robot Reindeer Number One. And those things on its head are antlers. It’s the first part of my SSSS —
my Super Santa Sleigh Simulator. Next Friday, just after dark, this reindeer and its seven mates will fly over the main street of Bogusville, pulling a sleigh with my Robot Santa in it. Santa will throw down lollies to the kids. They’ll never know it isn’t the real Santa.’
‘How will it fly? It doesn’t have wings.’
‘The antlers work like wings,’ Dr Trifle explained.
Taking a control box out of his pocket, Dr Trifle wiggled the joystick, making the antlers tilt back and forth.
‘See? And watch what happens when I twiddle the Power Toggle,’ he said, flipping a switch.
A blast of air shot out of the back of the reindeer with a big
whoooosh
blowing Selby’s ears back.
‘Goodness!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘There’s air coming out of its, um … its behind part!’
‘That’s the RRBB — the Robot Reindeer Bottom Blaster.’
‘It looks rude. Couldn’t you have made the air come out somewhere else?’
‘Not really. If it came out of its mouth, it would make the reindeer go backwards. If it came out of its belly-button, it would go straight up.’
Dr Trifle turned a dial and the
whoooosh
! of air turned into a
rooooaaaar
pushing the reindeer across the lawn.
‘There are little wheels under its hooves,’ Dr Trifle yelled.
Just before the reindeer reached the fence, Dr Trifle tilted the antlers back and it shot up into the air. In a second it was flying in circles over the house.
‘I can’t believe it!’ Selby thought. ‘Dr Trifle is the brilliantest inventor in the whole world!’
‘That’s amazing!’ Mrs Trifle said, as Dr Trifle landed the reindeer.
‘Just wait till I get the whole Super Santa Sleigh Simulator together. All I’ll have to do is fly it like a model aeroplane, right over the main street of Bogusville while the Robot Santa throws out lollies.’
For the next week, Selby watched Dr Trifle work on his invention. Finally, on the day before the big flight, he put it all together in the backyard. Then he sat the Robot Santa in the sleigh with a bag of lollies in his lap.
‘Have a look at this,’ he said to Mrs Trifle.
Selby and Mrs Trifle watched as Dr Trifle worked the controls and the Robot Santa began flinging lollies everywhere.
‘That’s very good, dear,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘but Santa doesn’t look quite right. He doesn’t have his Santa suit on.’
‘I’m picking up a Santa suit in the city tomorrow. He’ll be ready to fly tomorrow evening.’
‘I certainly hope so,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I’ve had phone calls from all around Australia, mostly from kids. They all want to know if Santa is really coming here.’
‘What did you tell them?’
‘I couldn’t lie to them but I didn’t want to tell them the truth either, so I said that they’ll have to come and see for themselves. I just hope everything goes okay.’
‘It will,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘This is so much fun. I’d love to know what Denis Dorset is thinking right now.’
Suddenly there was a screech of brakes outside as a long black limousine pulled up.
‘I think we’re about to find out,’ Mrs Trifle said, racing into the house. ‘Quick! Close the door and draw the back curtains. We don’t want him to see your invention!’
Dr Trifle quickly pulled the curtains shut as the doorbell rang.
‘My dear Mayor Trifle,’ Denis Dorset said, handing Mrs Trifle a huge bunch of roses. ‘It’s lovely to see you and Dr Trifle.’
‘What beautiful flowers,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Think nothing of it, dear lady. It’s the very least the mayor of Poshfield can do for the mayor of Bogusville. I’d like us to keep our friendship as fresh as these flowers.’
‘I wonder what Mr Smarmy-Pants wants now,’ Selby thought.
‘They’re lovely,’ Mrs Trifle said with a blush. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’
‘No, not really. Well, maybe we could share information more often.’
‘What sort of information?’
‘Oh, just the usual mayor things about fixing roads, rubbish collection, Christmas plans, things like that.’
‘Christmas plans?’
‘I couldn’t help noticing your ad saying that Santa Claus is coming to Bogusville. Now we both know that it can’t really be the real Santa Claus.’
‘Do we?’
‘Of course we know that. So I was wondering if this wasn’t another of Dr Trifle’s inventions.’
Selby watched Denis Dorset’s eyes dart around the room.
‘This guy’s a spy!’ Selby thought. ‘He’s even trying to take a sneaky peek through the crack in the curtains!’
‘Denis,’ Mrs Trifle said firmly,‘you’ll just have to come and see for yourself.’
The mayor of Poshfield stood still for a moment, rubbing his hands together and smiling.
‘I will, will I?’
‘Yes, and that’s all the information you’re going to get. Now, if you don’t have anything else to say …’
‘All right,’ Denis said, opening the front door. ‘I’ll be here at sunset on Friday and so will all the Poshfield police.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You may not know this, dear lady, but it is against the law to put ads in newspapers that aren’t true. So if your Santa Claus isn’t the real Santa Claus, the one who lives at the North Pole, then I’m afraid there’s going to be trouble. Have a lovely day.’