As at this moment I am the most incredible kid in the whole school! Plus, (and you'll find this even harder to believe), Brooks thinks I'm better than him at boxing! Yes, boxing! Its unbelievable isn't it?

You probably don't know what I'm talking about, so I'll start at the beginning. OK?

If you stood me beside Brooks you'd notice some differences. For a start, Brooks has muscles where I haven't got anything. That's how it has always been. He was born to be an ox and I was born to be a stick insect. He does weight training and I read books. He's also a few years older than me, but we're almost the same height. Funny, isn't it.

Brooks is boxing champion for the school, and also for the country, for his grade anyway. He trains all the time. He eats all the time too. I don't eat much. Most of the time I just sit around turning pages. Dad says its better to develop the brain than the brawn, but Brooks manages to do both. So he's stronger than me, and smarter than me. Depressing, isn't it.

And he brags. All the time. Whenever he's with anyone he talks about how good he is, or he rolls his sleeves up so you can see his arms. He's even cut his sports shirt off at the shoulders so his arms sort of 'dangle'. Its a good trick, because it gets a lot of admiration from the other boys, but it doesn't do a thing for me. And he's very sensitive to criticism too. If anyone so much as suggests that he's not the best, they live to regret it. Just.

So what's all this got to do with me beating Brooks? I'll tell you.

A few days ago we had someone stay with us. Before I go on I have to say that we have lots of people stay with us, but this particular person was not like the others. He was a magician. Mysto the Mysterious he called himself. He was tall, and thin, and he wore a black suit and had long whiskers.

"Sorry to just appear on your doorstep," he said when he arrived.

"That's alright," said Mum, "Come on in."

Mysto smiled when he saw me.

"Your boy?" he asked.

"Yes," said Mum.

"Does he like rabbits?"