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Creative Writing - My Dad is not a bad sort of bloke

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Introduction

Creative Writing My Dad is not a bad sort of bloke. There are plenty who are much worse. But he dose rave on a bit, like if you get muddy when you are playing football, or rip your pants when you are building a den. Stuff like that. Mostly we understand each other and I can handle him. What he doesn't know doesn't hurt him. If he knew that I kept George, my pet mouse, under the bed, he wouldn't like it; so I don't tell him. That way he is happy, I am happy and George is happy. There are only problems when he finds out what has been going on. Like the time that I wanted to see Mad Max II. The old man said it was a bad movie- too much blood and guts. 'It's too violent,' he said. 'But, Dad, that's not fair. All the other kids are going. I'II be the only one in the school who hasn't seen it.' I went on and on like this. I kept nagging. In the end he gave in-he wasn't a bad old boy. He usually let me have what I wanted after a while. It was easy to get around him. The trouble stared the next morning. He was cleaning his teeth in the bathroom, making noises, humming and gurgling- you know the sort of thing. Suddenly he stopped. Everything went quiet. Then he came into the kitchen. There was toothpaste all around his mouth; he looked like a mad tiger. He was frothing at the mouth. 'What's this?' he said. He was waving his toothbrush about. 'What's this on my toothbrush?' Little grey hairs were sticking out of it. 'How did these hairs get on my toothbrush?' Did you have my toothbrush, David?' He was starting to get mad. I didn't know whether to own up or not. Parents always tell you that if you own up they will let you off. ...read more.

Middle

Then he let it go. 'Ouch,' I said.' Cut that out. That hurts.' 'What's the matter, little Diddums?' he said. 'Can't you take it?' He shoved me roughly against the wall. I wasn't going to let him get away with that, so I pushed him back- just a little push. He went flying across the room and crashed into the wall on the other side. I just didn't know my own strength. That little push had sent him all the way. It was the wunderpants. Scrag Murphy looked at me with shock and surprise that soon turned to a look of hate. But he didn't say anything. No one said anything. They were all thinking I was going to get my block knocked off next time I saw Scrag Murphy. About forty kids were running in the race. We had to run through the countryside, following markers that had been put out by the teachers. It was a hot day, so I decided to wear a pair of shorts but no top. As soon as the starting gun went I was off like a flash. I had kept my wunderpants on and they were working really well. I went straight out to the front. I had never run so fast before. As I ran along the road I passed a man on a bike. He tried to keep up with me, but he couldn't. Then I passed a car. This was really something. This was great. I looked behind. None of the others were in sight- I was miles ahead. The trail trued off the road and into the bush. I was running along a narrow track in the forest. After a while I came to a small creek. I was hot so I decided to have a dip. After all, the others were a long way behind; I had plenty of time. I took off my shorts and running shoes, but I left the wunderpants on. I wasn't going to part with them. ...read more.

Conclusion

'We are really going to beat the pants off you this time.' The day of the big race came at last. There were about one hundred kids in Smith's barn. No adults knew about it, they would probably have stopped it if they knew. The prize money came from the entrance fee. 'Right,' said tiger. 'Get out your mice.' I put George down on the track. He looked very small. He started to sniff around. I hoped he would run as fast with the other mice there. Scrags Murphy put his hand in the box and took out Mugger. He was the biggest mouse I had ever seen. There were about ten mice in the race- or I should say nine mice and one rat. Two rats if you counted Scrag Murphy. All the owners took out their string and cheese. 'GO,' shouted Tiger Glenn. Mugger jumped straight on to a little mouse next to him and bit it on the neck. The poor thing fell over and lay still. 'Boo,' yelled some of the crowd. George ran to the front straight away. He was going really well. Then Mugger started to catch up. It was neck and neck for five laps. First Mugger would get in front, then George. Everyone in the barn went crazy. They were yelling their heads off. Suddenly something terrible happened. Mugger jumped onto George's tail and grabbed it in his teeth. The crowd started to boo. Even Scrag Murphy's mates were booing. But George kept going. He didn't stop for a second. He just pulled the fat rat along after him. It rolled over and over behind the little mouse. Mugger held on for grim of death, but he couldn't stop George. 'What a mouse,' screamed the crowed as George crossed the finish line still towing Mugger behind him. Scrag Murphy stormed off out of the barn. He didn't even take Mugger with him. Tiger handed me the prize money. Then he held up George. 'George is the winner,' he said. 'The only mouse in the world with its own little pair of fairy underpants.' ...read more.

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