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PIHO ARRIVED MOMENTS later. "What happened, man?" he asked, seeing that all was not well.
Randy was beside himself with rage. "Those bludgers robbed me! They damn-well bloody robbed me!"
Piho started disbelievingly down the now empty road. "No!"
'Yes!" squeaked Randy, close to tears.
"The scum!" spluttered Piho.
Randy faced his wet eyes down the road and shook his fist and roared, "Effing scum! No, you're lower than scum - you're amoeba!"
"They're what?" asked Piho.
"Amoeba. Don't you know what they are?"
Piho shrugged and pulled a face, "Nah, so what are they?"
Randy waved his hands around as if lost for words. Finally he said, "They're these really dumb things - like real dumb!"
"Oh," said Piho in mock amazement.
'Yeah," said Randy, nodding wisely.
"Scumbags!" shouted Piho again, suddenly remembering the twelve dollars they had just lost. "Amoeba scumbags!"
"Amoeba city scumbags!" added Randy.
"How d'ya know that?" asked Piho.
"You could just tell," explained Randy, picking off a knob of manure that had become stuck to his T-shirt when he’d been pushed over. "y’know: their clothes, their haircuts ..." He was getting close to tears again. "Aw you know, you could just tell!" He flung the lump of manure down the empty road. "Go back to the stink-hole you came from!" he shrieked.
Piho picked up a bigger lump and hurled it after the first. "Toilet-brains!" he shouted.
Randy flung a bigger piece. "Public-toilet-brains!"
Piho picked up a whole horse apple. "Cat's-puke roundworms-in-a-toilet dirt-brained scum-hole deadbeat-city-amoebas!" he yelled, throwing the poop so hard that it flew to pieces as it left his hand, showering them both with stinky wet crud.
"Aw, stick this, man!" muttered Randy bitterly. He threw down the lump he had only just picked up and turned towards the horse farm. "I'm going back to Plan A!"
And at that moment the Bennithorpe Stud Range Rover came roaring out the gate and turned towards town. Mr Kerr was driving. He gave them a big happy wave as he shot past.
Randy let loose the loudest expletive he had ever said, so furious he drop-kicked a horse apple across the road. It flew to pieces in a most satisfying way.
Piho just stood there, silent and murderous. "Geeze," he finally muttered. "You just can't trust anyone these days!" Then he turned towards Randy, his fingers twitching. But right then, away down the road, there appeared a white van. Piho hesitated.
"Is that them?" he asked.
Randy glanced at the approaching vehicle, "I think so, yeah."
"Well let's get 'em!" Piho roared, springing into the stall and flicking open a manure bag.
"Yeah, yeah!" cried Randy, getting the idea instantly. He opened another bag and grabbed a great glob of the freshest, wettest poop he could find and turned to take aim.
"Now!" they both called together.
The poo flew, splattering across the front and sides of the van as it sped past. The driver hit the brakes but the van was going too fast to stop instantly. With smoking tyres it finally screeched to a halt about fifty metres further on.
"Time to go, Joe!" yelled Piho, dashing for the nearby fence into the stud farm. But Randy was not with him. He was still gawping at the van.
"It's not them," he squeaked.
"Eh?" asked Piho, stopping halfway over the fence.
"It's not them!" repeated Randy more loudly. "We just splattered someone else's van!"
Piho stood still, waiting, thinking, until the doors of the van flew open and out jumped some people. Big people.
"Oi!" the biggest of them shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Randy and Piho. The guy was well splattered, and under the splat he was red with fury.
"Run!" yelled Piho. In moments they were both running like stink across the paddock.
"Hey, come back!" shouted the big man again. "STOP!"
"No way, Jose!" puffed Randy to himself.
"Wait!" called another voice, "You don't understand!" It was a woman's voice.
"Oh yes we do," gasped Piho to himself.
Then a third voice shouted after them - a kind of insane shriek: "I want you boys, I really want you! And I'm gonna get you!"
They didn't listen and they didn't stop. Three paddocks away they scrambled through a wiry hedge and tumbled into a damp ditch on the other side. Randy peeked back.
"They're still there," he reported, puffing. "No, wait, they're driving off now. . . Oh hell, they're going in!"
"It's okay," Piho puffed soothingly, "Kerr's not there, and no one else knows us."
"But what about our bikes, man? They'll see our bikes!"
"'Chill out, dude. They're out of sight, remember? And it's not like we've got our names written all over them. Nah, let's just wait and see."
"I can't see anything!" complained Randy anxiously after about two minutes.
"Probably talking," grunted Piho, "asking around, like."
"They might be waiting for us. They might've found our bikes and now they're just gonna wait!"
"Nah," said Piho.
'Or calling the police!"
"Nah," said Piho.
Finally, about ten minutes later, they saw the van drive slowly away towards town. After another five minutes they crept out of the ditch and scuttled back across the paddocks staying low. Back at the stall they looked at the mess and the empty road and then at each other.
'Now what?" said Randy.
"Give it ten minutes, then we'll shoot back with the wheel-barrow, grab our bikes and beat it!" said Piho.
"Right," said Randy.
But about one minute later a big old car came up the road from town, slowed down suddenly, and swung across the lanes to stop beside them. The driver's window was open and out stuck a cheerful brown face.
"Oh no!" muttered Piho. "It's Mum!"
"Hullo boys," she said. 'What’re yous doing here?"
"We're raising money for the school league team," Randy blurted out quickly, "for new jerseys this winter." Piho glared at him but Randy didn't notice.
"Excellent!" Mrs Waitere said, beaming at them proudly.
"How much you made then?" asked Mr Waitere, leaning across from the other side of the car. The boys shuffled uncomfortably.
"Well?" asked Piho's father again.
"Twelve bucks," admitted Piho reluctantly.
"Brilliant, boys, that's just brilliant, and what a great idea! Is the rest of the team doing it too?"
"Ahhh ..." said Piho.
It was the first time Randy had ever seen him stuck for words, so he quickly spoke up to fill the silence. "Well, y'see we've just started and this is - like - market research? Like, we're just kinda testing out the idea."
"Sounds like a winner already, dudes," said Mr Waitere cheerfully. "Hey! Why don't you put up a big sign, y'know, telling people what it's all about? And..." He leaned further over and lowered his voice. "... clean this place up a bit. Y’know - presentation?"
Randy grimaced and looked down at his green-stained sneakers.
"Hey!" said Mrs Waitere suddenly. "We'll take a bag."
Mr Waitere looked at her sideways. "What for?"
"For Rima," she said. "We're going up there anyway and her soil's not that great." Then she grinned at the boys. "I don't suppose you want to come visiting with us. eh?"
Piho shook his head, looking quite alarmed about something. Randy looked at him as if to say, 'What's up?' and went to get the bag. Piho came and gave him a hand, all the time looking at Randy like he wanted to kill him.
Mr and Mrs Waitere drove off, then Piho exploded. 'You pillock!" he roared, "You stupid great pillock!"
"Why?" asked Randy, perplexed.
"Rima?" asked Piho in a dangerously calm voice. “Doesn't that name sound slightly familiar?"
"Errr. . ." Randy was thinking hard. Rima? Rima? The only Rima he knew was Rima Tukaki, Piho's aunty, who was also one of the teachers at school ...
Uh-oh ...