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Amazing Stories: Manure Pie

"I'll win," he said.

"How do you know?" said Patrick.

"I know "cos if I don't, I'll squash you till you throw up!"

"That would be cheating!"

"Who cares!"

"You don't win if you cheat!"

"Shut up, worm!"

Patrick backed off. He knew it would be pointless trying to thump the wall of flesh.

Ditto gave Patrick a shove and walked away.

"Who invited him?" asked Brick, when Ditto was out of earshot.

"He did," said Alan.

"I wish he'd butt out!"

"He can eat twice as much as me," grumbled Patrick.

"Me too," I said.

"We'll just have to beat him," said Alan.

We tried to forget about Ditto and get on with the planning, but it wasn't easy. He knew how to swallow oysters, raw! And he ate bananas, even when their skins were black. The competition would be sort of ruined before it got started if Ditto was there. He was a walking gross-out competition all on his own.

But we had three days, because it was Wednesday, so Alan got permission from the Art teacher to do some posters, and I went to see the Principal about using the middle room. He wasn't too happy about it and suggested we use the steps near the drinking fountains - probably because he expected some of us to throw up. He wanted us outside anyway, so I suppose that was sensible, in case we made a mess.

Most of the girls in the school were so disgusted by the competition they didn't want to even talk about it, except Ditto's sister. She said she'd probably be there. The other girls said us boys were so gross they couldn't believe it.

After that, we tried to think of how the competition was going to run. We made up some rules.

1. Whatever one competitor eats, all the other competitors have to eat, too.

2. If a competitor chucks up, they're disqualified.

3. If a competitor refuses to eat something, they've lost.

4. The winner is the one who doesn't chuck up before he gets home from school.

The posters were up round the school, and everyone was wondering what would happen. Ditto kept pulling the posters down. He wrote ''Losers" on them too, or drew faces. He was, as usual, a real pain.

Friday came, and the time for the competition arrived.

There was a big crowd by the taps. Mostly boys. Some girls were hanging around the edges, peering over the shoulders of the boys.

The competitors lined up. Alan had the gross food ready, wrapped in paper, and stored in plastic bags. He'd brought enough to share, so all competitors would get a fair amount. None of us knew what Alan had brought. All of us hoped it wouldn't be grosser than we could manage to swallow.


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