Danny Baker Record Breaker (5): The World’s Itchiest Pants

It was a great attempt at Snowbound-sister Carrying (Piggyback), but you’ll have to go on a very big detour to the doctors if you are going to beat the current record of 53.67 km, held by Ferris Rose of Jerry’s Nose, Newfoundland, Canada. His sister Doris didn’t know she was taking part in a record attempt either. She thought Ferris was taking her to the greengrocer’s to buy a turnip. She reportedly spent the last 10 km of the carry beating her brother over the head with her wooden leg.

I should warn you that it is extremely difficult to catch Skunk Flu, but if you do, the symptoms can be nasty. There are three distinct phases to the illness:

Phase 3: Continuous Jaw Motion and Excessive Saliva Production (uncontrollable chinwagging and dribbling)

Although there are world records to be broken for each Skunk Flu Phase, if I were you I’d wear a mask and stay well away from your sister!

Danny and Matthew spent all morning making snowmen in the deserted school playground. They had raided the school’s overflowing big green wheelie bins and found an assortment of grubby items to add to their sculptures. They stood back to admire their work:

A model of their headteacher, Mr ‘Beaky’ Rogers, waited by the school gates, a bright orange traffic-cone nose sticking out from his face, below two black, soggy-tea-bag eyes. Nearby, at the crossing outside school, Mr Flutey the lollipop man had been built, his snowy arm outstretched, holding a half-chewed tutti-frutti-flavoured lollipop in his hand.

A sculpture of their teacher Mrs Woodcock filled the main entrance. Straggly, slimy spaghetti hair dangled from her enormous head, which was far too big to pass through the doors. Just around the corner, a snowy version of dinner lady Mrs Gommersall stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing a greasy-paper-bag chef’s hat and cooking up a battered old football boot in a rusty frying pan.

‘They’re better than the real thing!’ laughed Danny.

The boys scurried behind the wheelie bins. Scrunching footsteps came towards them and then stopped. They heard Mr Cripps’s familiar rasping cough as the caretaker studied the snowman of ‘Beaky’ Rogers. ‘Someone’ll be in trouble over this,’ he wheezed.

Danny and Matthew waited quietly until Creepy Cripps had gone on his rounds, then they made a dash for the gates.

‘That was close,’ said Danny. ‘We’d get detention for a squigga-squillion years if he’d caught us!’

The streets of Penleydale were empty. People had heeded the Skunk Flu Alert and were staying indoors. Great drifts of snow piled up against houses, smothering the roads and gardens. Huge flakes continued to swirl from the grey sky, adding to the thick white mantle. A strange, soft silence had settled over the valley, and the only sound was the scrunch of the boys’ tennis rackets plunging into the snow.

Danny paused, staring along the deserted road. ‘You know, Matt, what this town needs is people – snowpeople.’

Matthew glanced around to see if there was anyone looking. ‘The coast’s clear,’ he replied. ‘Let’s get digging.’

Soon, snow-priest Father Paddy O’Hare sat on the low wall outside St Joseph’s Church, sharing a comic with snow-Reverend Dave Goodie, vicar of St Waldebert-in-the-Bottoms.

‘Hairy O’Hare isn’t hairy enough,’ said Danny, sticking short twigs in the snowman’s ears and up his nose.

‘And we forgot Mr Goodie’s buck-teeth,’ said Matthew, giving the Reverend a goofy grin made of orange peel.

Danny and Matthew continued through town, leaving a trail of funny footprints in the smooth, untouched snow. All the shops were closed, and the High Street looked like a still, white river winding between them.

Danny created a pair of feet sticking out of the mouth of the postbox on the corner, as though someone had fallen head-first into it.

At the bus stop, they built a snowy Snow White and seven snow-Dwarfs queuing patiently, while across the road a giant snow-rabbit was escaping from the greengrocer’s shop carrying a huge snow-carrot. Danny dropped a small pile of round black pebbles under the animal’s bottom.

‘It’s what bunnies do,’ he said, grinning at Matthew.

They were just adding the finishing touches to a model of a monster mouse chasing Pardon, the ferocious one-eared cat that lived in Gertie’s Gum and Gobstopper sweet shop, when they heard the tinkle of a bell as the shop door opened.

They heard the voice of Gertie Gubbins. ‘When I find out who’s poking fun at my Pardon,’ she stormed, ‘they’ll be banned from my shop for good!’

‘We need to be careful,’ said Matthew. ‘We’ll cop for it if people find out it’s us making these snowmen.’

‘We need disguises,’ replied Danny. ‘And I know where I can get some.’ He gazed through the empty chip-shop window, and his tummy gurgled. ‘Let’s go home for tea. Call for me super-early tomorrow. I’ve got a plan!’

As Danny opened the front door of his house, the pungent pong of Skunk Flu Stink slammed into his face. Dad stomped down the stairs wearing a white mask over his face, spraying the hall with ‘Fiery Jock’ his super-smelly footballers’ muscle-rub.

‘The air freshener’s not covering up Natalie’s pong,’ he explained. ‘I didn’t think anything could smell worse than your feet Danny, but Natalie’s managed it!’