9.30 pm: The boy with the green hair is still chanting ‘Worm Boy’ when I walk out of the disco. Almost every kid at the fire station is down on the floor doing the worm, but I know who he’s talking to. He’s talking to me. I stuff my prize in my pocket. I find Ben and Mimi and head outside. I want to go home.

‘Who have we got here?’ says a boy with a silly Scottish accent. He’s shining a torch in my face. For a moment I think the boy with green hair has found me. But no. It’s Lachlan.

‘Where have you been?’ I ask Lachlan, pushing the torch out of my face.

‘Discos are for losers,’ Lachlan responds, stuffing his face with salt and vinegar chips.

‘Well what are you doing here?’ Ben asks. ‘Does that make you a loser, too?’

‘It makes you all losers,’ calls a voice from behind.

I turn to see the boy with green hair. He has his hands on his hips. His mouth is curled up in a snarl.

‘You look like a walking toilet brush,’ Lachlan laughs, pointing at the boy. ‘Have you cleaned out any pooey dunnies lately?’

‘Are you mad?’ I whisper to Lachlan. ‘Why did you say that? He’s bigger than you and he’s twice as big as me. You’re the Master of Disaster!’

Normally Lachlan would punch me for calling him the Master of Disaster. But he doesn’t have time. The boy with green hair is walking towards us. He looks as angry as a bulldog with a toothache.

‘Now he’s going to punch someone,’ I say. ‘And it will probably be me.’

I run behind a fire truck. Ben and Lachlan follow, but Mimi doesn’t move. She stands defiantly in the open, waiting for Toilet Brush Head. I reach out from behind the fire truck, grab her T-shirt and pull her towards me.

‘Why are you hiding?’ Mimi says. ‘There’s no need to be scared of him.’

‘Who’s scared of Toilet Brush Head?’ Lachlan says. He crouches behind Ben, like someone who is actually very scared of Toilet Brush Head.

‘I’m scared,’ Ben admits. ‘But we can escape in the fire truck. It’s big enough for all of us.’

‘Good idea,’ Lachlan says, climbing onto the side of the truck. He throws his bag of chips in through the driver’s window and starts to scramble in after them. ‘I’ll drive.’

‘Are you mad?’ Mimi says. ‘We’re going to have Toilet Brush Head and every other person in Hazard River after us. Get down from there.’

‘I’m going to get you, Worm Boy!’ Toilet Brush Head calls from somewhere nearby. ‘And I want that iPod.’

I reach into my pocket for my iPod. Maybe I should just hand it over, go home and declare this the worst New Year’s Eve ever. I’m going to have Toilet Brush Head hunting me all night if I don’t.

I pull out my iPod. I’m ready to give up.

‘Don’t you dare,’ Mimi says, reading my thoughts. ‘You deserve that iPod. You won it. Don’t let that bully beat you.’

Mimi leads me back into the fire station. I scamper between the disco dancers, like I’m solving a human maze. I jump over wormers and dodge wrigglers. But I’m not quick enough to avoid a small boy break-dancing on the floor. I stumble over his foot. I grab Mimi’s shirt to stop myself from falling. Ben grabs hold of me from behind and before I know it, we’ve formed a conga line. Two hundred and fifty people are snaking around the room behind us, clutching onto each others’ waists, kicking their feet in the air in time to the music.

‘Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey! Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey!’

Flying custard pies! What have I done?

We do two circuits of the room before I spot an escape route. A ladder. It leads to the second floor of the fire station. If my calculations are right, at the top of that ladder will be a firemen’s retreat. There should be rows of beds, a big kitchen and plenty of places to hide. I’ve seen it all on TV: firemen sitting around, playing cards and drinking hot chocolate, waiting for an emergency. We can wait there until Toilet Brush Head forgets about the iPod.

I break away from the conga line, leaving a skinny girl with flashing reindeer antlers in the lead.

‘Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey!’

I scuttle up the ladder and pull myself through the trapdoor opening. Mimi, Ben and Lachlan stumble into the darkness behind me. My heart sinks. This isn’t a fireman’s retreat with hot or even cold chocolate. There are no beds or card tables. It’s just a dark attic. It might have been a firemen’s retreat once, now it’s just some kind of storage room. It’s only a matter of time before Toilet Brush Head finds his way up here. He’ll give me a Chinese burn that I’ll never forget.

We hide behind a pile of boxes and listen. Several people climb up the ladder.

‘They’re upstairs. Come on, we’ve got them now,’ I hear Toilet Brush Head say.

‘Yeah, I’m gonna take one iPod and you can have the other,’ another boy says.

It sounds like Toilet Brush Head is heading our way and he’s brought his friends.

‘Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey!’ Ben is still singing along to the conga tune and wiggling his bottom in time to the music. His glowing animals and headlamp flash in time to the beat. He looks like a musical Christmas tree.

‘Ssshhh,’ I hiss at Ben.

‘Don’t get mad at Ben. This useless hiding spot was your idea,’ Lachlan whispers.

‘Well, Toilet Brush Head wouldn’t be chasing us if you hadn’t asked him to clean out the dunny,’ I say. ‘You got us into this in the first place.’

‘You won the iPod,’ Lachlan spits back. ‘You shouldn’t have been doing that stupid show-off dance. He wouldn’t be chasing us if you hadn’t done the worm.’

‘Quiet!’ Mimi whispers. ‘They’ll hear you.’

I look around for a way out. Then I see it. A fireman’s pole. I’ve always wanted to slide down a fireman’s pole and there it is in front of me. If we time it properly, Toilet Brush Head won’t even know where we’ve gone.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ I say, grabbing Ben by the arm.

I race to the pole, wrap my arms and legs around the shiny post and slide down. I have an overwhelming urge to shout ‘Weee!’. But my health and quite possibly my life depend on staying quiet. I manage to keep my ‘weee’ inside. But I make a note to myself to join the fire brigade when I grow up, so I can ‘weee’ all day.

The fun comes to a sudden halt at the bottom of the pole. Ben lands on my head. A few moments later Mimi falls on me and finally Lachlan crushes all three of us. His finger ends up in my ear.

‘Get off me, you fat pigs,’ I whisper angrily. ‘I can’t move.’

‘That was fun,’ Ben says, jumping to his feet. ‘Can we do it again?’

‘No, we can’t. Toilet Brush Head won’t be far behind,’ I snap.

I pull my ear clear of Lachlan’s finger. I get my face clear of Mimi’s bottom. Ben is still standing on my legs, pinning me to the ground and pleading for another go on the fireman’s pole.

Then I see him.

There in front of me is the man we’ve been looking for all night.

It’s Mr Elephant Ears! He’s just a few metres away, searching the crowd. He’s looking for someone. And I bet it’s me.

I shrink behind Mimi’s bottom again. I can’t let him see me. He’s already tried to run over me today. What would he be planning next? To torture me with sticky chocolate éclairs. Stuff one up my nose, a couple in my ears and shove the rest in my mouth?

‘Weee,’ comes a voice from above me.

It’s Toilet Brush Head sliding down the fireman’s pole. His two friends follow, landing on top of me.

Mr Elephant Ears hears the commotion and turns.

‘What do you think you’re doing!’ he shouts. He walks towards me.

Oh no. It looks like it’s going to be death by chocolate éclair.

I’m just about to explain the whole iPod-winning-worm-dance-conga-line-fireman’s-pole thing, when Toilet Brush Head speaks.

‘Nothing, Dad. Just having a bit of fun.’

Toilet Brush Head struggles out of the pile of bodies. He gives me a look that would make the world-heavyweight boxing champion cry for his dummy.

‘You’ll keep,’ he hisses.

He walks towards Mr Elephant Ears.

Mr Elephant Ears is Toilet Brush Head’s father? What is going on?

‘Come on. You’ve had enough fun,’ Mr EE says. ‘We need to get going. There’s a lot of work to do tonight.’

I watch Mr Elephant Ears and Toilet Brush Head walk off into the darkness.

It’s time we left, too. We need to find out what that ‘work’ is.