Janet Wong and Maria Gallus were chatting away one lunchtime when a terrible smell surrounded them.

‘Was that you?’ asked Janet.

‘No!’ replied Maria.

‘Have I stood in something?’ asked Janet, checking the soles of her shoes.

‘Don’t think so,’ said Maria. ‘Maybe it’s my lunchbox. Mum’s probably given me egg sandwiches again.’

But that wasn’t it either. Janet and Maria couldn’t work it out. They checked to see if there was a drain nearby, and then each other’s breath – even their armpits and sneakers. Nothing!

The smell was getting worse. Other kids were looking around too. Everyone started holding their noses.

Then things became serious. One boy fainted and others started retching.

The smell was absolutely revolting. Think broken sewer pipes, mixed with garlic breath, mixed with rotten-egg gas, mixed with socks that have been worn for seven days in a row.

Suddenly it all became clear. Standing nearby, wearing a huge grin, was Stinky Adams.

Stinky had only arrived the day before, with a whole lot of other kids whose school was damaged by fire. Rumours had gone around about Stinky, though no-one really believed his smells could be that bad.

But now everyone knew. Stinky Adams did smells that were sick-making.

The trouble was that Stinky enjoyed doing smells. It gave him a feeling of power, and relief, of course. It made him smile. If Stinky found himself surrounded by people choking and kids throwing up, it was a good day.

Of course, Mrs Hammond, the school principal, was not happy. She called Stinky into her office.

‘I’m not quite sure how to put this,’ said Mrs Hammond, ‘but it’s come to my attention that you have a small problem downstairs.’

Stinky didn’t understand.

‘A problem with wind,’ continued Mrs Hammond. ‘In fact, if I’m to believe the stories, your wind is bordering on scary. “Like a punch in the face” is how one of our teachers described it. It has to stop. Diet can be a big help. Tell me what you had for breakfast this morning.’

‘Mum says I need building up, so she’s been giving me big breakfasts,’ replied Stinky. ‘Today I had stewed prunes, then leftover cauliflower cheese and cabbage fried like hash browns, two eggs, bacon, two pork sausages, a whole can of baked beans…’

‘Enough, enough!’ said Mrs Hammond.

‘Oh, no,’ said Stinky.

‘What?’ asked Mrs Hammond.

‘Talking about food like that gets me excited. I think I’ve just done another smell,’ said Stinky.

Now, smelling a fluff out in the open is one thing, but trying to get away from it in a small space like a principal’s office is another.

Mrs Hammond didn’t even make it to the door. The last thing she remembered was being hit by a stench that was almost too bad to describe. ‘Try to imagine,’ she said later to the ambulance officer, ‘opening the back doors of a truck that has been sitting in the hot sun for two weeks – and finding a dead elephant inside.’

Mrs Hammond was only away for a week, but in that time the school really changed. And all because of Stinky. Kids were organised to track his movements during lunchtime so they could warn others to steer clear of him and, just like fire drills, teachers taught everyone how to leave the building quickly and safely if Stinky let one go inside.

Mrs Hammond didn’t dare call Stinky into her office for another chat – one brush with death was enough – so, until Stinky’s old school was rebuilt, they would just have to put up with him. Kids began wearing coats inside because the windows were always open, and some even had gas masks that their parents had bought for them.

Then one day, Mrs Hammond got some even worse news. The government had decided to test every kid in the country so that they could work out which were the best and worst schools.

Mrs Hammond was immediately against the idea because it was so unfair. Schools in some areas might have a lot of kids whose parents worked long hours to put food on the table, which might mean they didn’t have much time to help their kids with schoolwork and reading and stuff. And other parents might be in trouble or going through a really hard time. So when the test results came through, that school would get a bad rating – even if the teachers were doing a fantastic job helping those kids to keep up. Which made it a good school!

‘So,’ said Mrs Hammond to her teachers, ‘our school is not going to take part in this test because it’s wrong.’

‘But the government will insist,’ said Mr Brown, one of the teachers. ‘Won’t you be putting your job at risk?’

‘I don’t care,’ said Mrs Hammond.

‘There might be another way,’ said Mr Brown, looking slightly nervous. ‘But it’s disgusting.’

Well, Mr Brown’s idea was worse than disgusting. But Mrs Hammond agreed to it. She had no choice.

Mr Brown’s plan was this: the government would definitely send someone along to supervise the test, to make sure things were done properly and no-one cheated. ‘But,’ he said, ‘what if the supervisor couldn’t stay in the room?’

‘And how might that come about?’ asked Mrs Hammond.

‘Stinky Adams,’ replied Mr Brown.

Mr Brown needed the kids’ help for this plan, and he explained to them that Mrs Hammond thought the test was unfair. It would be tough, he said, but the plan was for Stinky to let one go during the test so that the supervisor was forced to leave the room.

But! The kids would have to pretend that nothing had happened. If the supervisor smelt a rat, the trick wouldn’t work.

The supervisor could never say that she left because of a terrible smell – that would just sound too rude. So, with a bit of luck, the school’s test results wouldn’t make it on to the list.

Of course, the big question was how to get the kids to stay in the room during one of Stinky’s smells.

‘Practice is the answer,’ said Mr Brown. ‘We can become immune. Every day for the next month, I’m going to ask Stinky to do a really bad smell – I can’t believe I’m saying this – and I’m going to ask you all to last a minute longer than the day before. I’m sure we can do it, but I should warn you. On the day of the test I’m going to ask Stinky to do one of his worst – something truly frightening.’

‘Oh, no!’ the kids said to each other, gagging already. But they liked Mr Brown and Mrs Hammond, and they were determined to help.

So, the very next day, the practice sessions began. At first, most kids could only last a few seconds before collapsing and gasping for air. But Mr Brown was right. Slowly but surely they got to the stage where they could last a full thirty minutes, which was probably the length of the test.

Finally, the day arrived. Luckily it was on Stinky’s birthday and Mr Brown suggested that he ask his mum for a special breakfast. Two bowls of prunes, four eggs, two bits of bacon, three thick pork sausages, three fried potato cakes and four bits of toast with a really thick layer of peanut butter. That would do the trick.

It certainly did. As the kids sat down to do the test and the supervisor took her place at the front, everyone could tell that Stinky was just about bursting. Stinky looked over to Mr Brown, who nodded. Then, silent but deadly, Stinky let it rip.

Now we’ve all come across the odd bad smell but this was something else. Something evil and twisted. A very sick puppy. Nothing could help you imagine what it was like – not even the smell of a thousand dead rats, or a hole-in-the-ground dunny, or the breath of someone who had just smoked a hundred cigarettes after not cleaning their teeth for a year, or rotting fish-heads in a bin.

Kids shifted in their seats, held their breath or tried to think of something else – anything except getting up and leaving.

The supervisor’s eyes widened as the horrible smell wafted over. What was that foul stench? And how come no-one else seemed to notice it? Was it her imagination?

Beads of perspiration began to form on her brow and she went white. She held a handkerchief to her mouth and staggered to her feet. She realised she hadn’t taken a breath for well over a minute and panic set in. Lurching all over the place, she zig-zagged towards the door.

Kids were twitching in their seats, desperate for her to leave. But there was one more surprise in store. As the supervisor got closer to the door, she got closer to Stinky.

Now, I’ve seen some huge vomits before, but this one was a ten. All over the blackboard, all over the floor and even on the ceiling. Finally, the poor supervisor crawled out the door on her hands and knees, and stumbled towards her car in the parking lot.

You could hear the sigh of relief from all the kids. At last, they could leave too!

But it wasn’t just a sigh everyone had heard. Stinky had let another one go!