Booger King Fights Back by Zuni Blue
Booger King Fights Back
Zuni Blue
Copyright
Copyright 2013 - Zahra Brown (pseudonym: 'Zuni Blue')
All rights reserved.
License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold, or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
www.zuniblue.com
Image: MisterElements/bigstockphoto.com
CONTENTS
Booger King Fights Back
Dear Reader
About the Author
Dedications
This book is written in British English.
****
Booger King Fights Back
Do you pick your nose? Yes or no? Be honest...I won't tell anyone.
I used to. Sometimes I miss those days. Digging around, catching a good booger, and eating it. It didn't taste nice. Or flicking it. It was lots of fun!
Until my friend told me about the booger king...Nose picking was never the same after that.
This story is a warning to everyone who picks their nose. Tell all your friends too! It'll save lives. Trust me.
There's no going back now. You've already heard too much.
Are you ready?
In London, England live the D-Twins. Who're they? you ask.
The youngest, by two minutes and fifty-two seconds, is Dixon. He's got short, curly hair, big brown eyes like his sister, but he's skinny. Daria's chubby. Her hair is long and bushy, just like their mum's. The D-Twins have light brown skin, a mixture of their parents' different shades.
So, when you see them, you'll know who's who. But where will you find them?
Daria loves her dolls. She's got white ones, black ones, biracial ones, women, men, boys, girls, and cute babies. Everyone has their own clothes and shoes. When you see them, don't touch anything! She's a very organised person. She'll get angry if you touch her stuff.
Dixon won't mind if you touch his stuff. It's all messy anyway! When you meet him, he'll show off his toy cars, trucks, roads, and the town he built all by himself. He used to take care of his town, but then he discovered boogers...
"Dixon," his mum snapped, "stop picking your nose!" She wiped his finger with a tissue, but it stuck to the booger. "Wash your hands!"
"But I can't!" That was a lie. He could have, but he'd found one of the juiciest boogers ever. After picking at tiny ones, dry ones, and the ones that tease - those are bumpy parts of your nose you thought were boogers - he'd found a freshly made, soft, bouncy, not too slimy booger that hugged his finger like it loved him. Finding perfect boogers is like finding the winning lottery ticket - rare!
So how on earth could his mum ask him to wash it down the drain?
She doesn't get it, he thought. Adults never do!
"Have you washed your hands yet?" She took him by his clean hand and led him to the bathroom. Then she stood over him, tapping her foot.
"I don't want to."
"Wash it off! You can't go to school with that! What will your teachers say?" She turned on the cold water. "Do it. Now."
He stared down the plughole, imagining the poor, little booger washing away. It wouldn't last down there. They never did. Soon it'd be torn apart by the water and end up in the sewage.
He didn't want his booger swimming around with Daria's poo!
"No!" He tore off the tissue and stuck the finger back up his nose. When his mum tried to pull it out, he squashed it so far up he sneezed. It tickled, making him laugh.
"Dixon..." His mum sighed. "...Get in the car."
Win!
Dixon raced downstairs, grabbed his schoolbag, and jumped into the car. Daria winced when she saw his finger up his nose, but she didn't say anything. Their mum was in a very bad mood, so arguing now wasn't a good idea.
On the way to school, Dixon managed to find even more boogers. He ate a bit for energy, but the rest was stored in his other nostril. When that nostril was blocked, he stuck his finger right up and pulled out the biggest booger in history.
"Gross!" Daria cried. "Don't touch me!"
Sometimes he might put boogers in Daria's hair. Her hair was so bushy - afro textured, their mum called it - that the booger wouldn't be found for days. By then, it'd be dry, hard, and fall out. Daria was really angry when it fell in her cereal. At least Dixon got to eat it. The milk softened the booger, and the sugar was a nice bonus!
So, here was the biggest booger ever. He took out his ruler and measured it. His eyes widened at the inch-long booger.
"Throw it out!" Daria said. "Ew!" She pulled her hood over her hair and hugged her packed lunch. "Don't touch me!"
Dixon took his mum's phone from her bag and took a picture of the booger. Then he videoed it, just in case his friends said the photo was fake. With all the evidence he needed to be famous, he popped the booger in his mouth and chewed.
And chewed. And chewed. And chewed.
"What's wrong?" Daria asked.
"I can't chew it properly." He tried to grind it with his teeth, but the booger stayed in one piece. "Too tough!" He chewed harder, but the booger seemed to be pushing against his teeth. Then it slid around his mouth, dodging his teeth. It slipped under his tongue and held it down.
"Uh oh..."
"Just swallow it!" She pointed ahead, the school up the street.
He reached into his mouth and lifted his tongue, the booger fighting to pull it back down. His other hand grabbed the booger and yanked it out.
"Get rid!" Daria hissed, hiding under her hood.
He pushed it to the back of his mouth and swallowed. It slowly slid down before dropping into his stomach. He could feel it swimming around, knocking against his sides.
"Young man, you will be drinking ten glasses of water a day from now on!"
"But--"
Daria sniggered.
"You too, young lady!"
"But--"
"The water will flush out your system. It'll help your body clear those boogers out before they grow that big." She took her phone back, her eyes widening at the video. "It can't be..."
"What?" the twins asked.
"Nothing!" She smiled, but Dixon could still see fear in her eyes.
Ten minutes later, the twins were in English. Their teacher, Mrs. Rowling, was reading more Shakespeare. She kept messing up the words, much more than usual.
"To be or..." She turned the page. "...not to be? What is the question? I mean, that is the question. Any questions?"
Can we go home? he wanted to ask.
Rowling looked over the class. People looked away, some pretended to stare out the window, others were asleep, and Daria had her hand up.
"Another question, Daria?" Rowling said. "Go on."
"Is it true that Shakespeare stole his plays? If it is, why can't we steal our homework? If he copied other people's work, why can't we?" Daria put pen to paper, her eyes on Rowling.
Rowling turned bright pink, her short, blonde hair sticking to her sweaty face. She glanced at the clock, her eyes following the skinny hand around a full minute. Then she sat down and shuffled some blank lined papers.
"Um, Miss?" Daria said. "Hello?"
"You cited a theory," Rowling snapped. "We cannot prove he stole his masterpieces."
"Can't prove he didn't." Daria
"Daria, you have contributed more than enough." Rowling's eyes shifted to Dixon. He gulped. "What about your other half?"
"What she said."
"Dixon Davis, you must think for yourself."
"Just did." He leaned back and yawned. "I think what she said."
"Fine, then." She took out a pink slip and wrote on it so hard her pencil broke. "Dixon Davis and Daria Davis, please see Mr. Baker." She stamped the note. "I will not have you disrupting the works of Dickens--"
"Shakespeare!" Daria cried.
"William ever again. The rest of you heed this warning. The greatest author--"
"Fake author," Daria muttered.
"He will be respected."
Dixon took the note and Daria followed him out. Rowling slammed the door on them before returning to her book.
The D-twins slowly walked down the corridor. They stopped by the toilets, just in case any teachers passed by. Dixon ripped up the note and tossed it in the bin.
"Need the loo?" Daria asked, crossing her legs. He shook his head. "Oh, please!"
"Whatever."
Daria dashed into the girls' bathroom and he strolled into the boys'. It was smellier than he remembered, so he pinched his nose. But when he let go...
"It's stuck!" he cried, trying to open his nostrils. "Why? I cleared it out!" He tugged on his nose, but had to stop because it started to hurt. Breathing through his mouth, he paced up and down in deep thought.
"Blow my nose!" He grabbed some toilet tissue and tried to blow, but nothing came out. His nose went bright red and throbbed when he breathed. He dabbed it with a cold, damp tissue, but his nose swelled even bigger.
"Dixon!" Daria knocked. "Don't poo at