hungry. You know what its like being a boy don't you – always hungry? Anyway, the second bit of food was delicious. Meat and veggies, with gravy. Mitch and I ate slowly, trying not to put too much into our mouths. I had to swallow some gristle. Mitch dripped one drop of gravy onto the cloth. He slid his plate over the mark but I knew the judges had seen it, because it was plain enough, even to me. I sipped my drink. Mitch sipped his. We glanced at each other now and then, and tried not to smile.

Any minute now we would be finished.

The third and last course was a big bowl of fruit salad with ice cream and jelly. I winked at Mitch and he winked back. This was the signal we had arranged.

Mitch picked his ice cream up in his fingers, and closed them on the cold, soft lump. It oozed between the gaps. The crowd gasped and several cameras clicked. I picked my bowl up and slurped the juice from the edge, allowing a waterfall of juice to splash onto the table. The judges went crazy, writing zeros all over their notebooks.

Mitch put some fruit salad on his spoon and flicked it at me. I flicked some back. We tipped our drinks over and splashed our hands in the puddle like a couple of two-year olds. We had big puddles to splash in because we had deliberately saved our drinks for this. We played with our food. The crowd gasped and groaned, like it was going to be sick. I didn't look at my parents, because I knew what their faces would show. Horror. Disgust. Fright. Terror.

Mitch took the flowers from his vase and started to paint a food picture with them on the snowy tablecloth. I modelled a face out of my ice cream and stuck the spoons into it to make arms.

Any second now.

"That's it!" said Mitch's Dad, "Stop!"

"Yeah! Call it off!" shouted someone in the audience.

"Disgusting pigs!"

The supermarket boss raised his hands and declared the competition over. The manager of the restaurant was red in the face. He blustered around, trying to get the clean-up operation underway. Several waiters descended on Mitch and me, wiping and cleaning everything.

"That was the most disgusting display of bad manners I have ever seen!" said my Mum.

"Absolutely!" said Dad.