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like a billion practise swings. I walked over to him.
    ‘Jolly good show, old chap,’ I said. ‘Best of luck thwacking your balls, what ho the diddly oh.’
    He glared at me.
    ‘Quiet, peasant, and watch how we do things in Snootyville.’
    I smiled and stepped away, hands behind my back. He pulled back his sledgehammer. He paused. I stepped behind him and went from innocent …

    … to a putting-off SUPERSTAR!

    Nasty Jefferson squealed, jumped, swung the sledgehammer, the ball flew sideways and smashed into Mr Jefferson’s left ankle!
    He yelped and grabbed it.
    ‘ BROWN! ’
    I was finally having fun though, and couldn’t stop. I grabbed Nasty Jefferson’s sledgehammer, swung it around my head and whacked a ball through a hoop. My team cheered. Then I whacked Nasty Jefferson’s ball away. They cheered again. I yelled out for them to join me, and they did …

    It was so awesome. We were whacking balls and yelling buckity buckity and Mr Jefferson was yelling for us to stop and Nasty Jefferson was sitting on the ground crying out for us to be gentlemen and all the girls except for Dakota were hiding behind a wall.
    There were balls flying everywhere. Mr Jefferson got hit on the ankles 29 times.
    Finally, we gently tapped our balls into the centre peg and stopped, out of breath. I ran past my teammates, holding my hand up for high fives, but none of them knew what I was doing, so we just shook hands.
    Baby steps …
    Then Mr Jefferson limped over.
    He looked angry.

    Okay, he looked the same as always, but he was always angry!
    ‘ BROWN! ’ he yelled.
    Uh-oh. Could be trouble.
    ‘Look at this court!’
    He pointed. I looked. He glared. I was worried.
    ‘You and your team sit over there. You are banned from this court. Leave now. I will see you, as the ringleader, in detention after school.’
    He pointed again to where we should sit. I looked again. He glared again. We went and sat down.
    I took a deep breath.
    ‘I’m sorry, you guys,’ I said. ‘I just wanted to make things fun. I keep getting you in trouble.’
    Harmison laughed.
    ‘Haw haw, don’t be sorry, Brown,’ he said. ‘For starters, you are the only one receiving detention, and for seconds, if British Bulldogs was fun, this was fun times twenty! ’
    ‘Is that a lot?’ I asked. My brain couldn’t be bothered doing maths. He patted my shoulder.
    ‘You are going to be a lamb to the slaughter at Academic Challenge, old chap. Perhaps you should lay low and follow our rules for a time. However, when you are willing to show us this mini-golf of yours, whatever that may be, we are aching to play it.’
    The others agreed. Harmison had made me feel better again. He was a good guy.

    *This isn’t what he actually said, but he may as well have.

CHAPTER 15

DETENTION

    Detention sucks.
    That is all.

CHAPTER 16

THE
HOUSEWARMING
    Mum and Dad weren’t too happy that I’d already had a detention, but luckily for me they were distracted by the housewarming party. They bought heaps of food and Mum went to town, cooking up a feast using ingredients she could only dream about on Hovel Street.
    Dad had almost figured out all the buttons for lights and music and everything else, and I could tell they were massively excited.
    Then, it was time, and the party was a disaster … almost.
    We had said 6pm on the invite, but by seven no one had turned up.
    Then the doorbell rang.
    ‘Ah, of course,’ Dad said. ‘Rich people like to be fashionably late!’
    He leapt off the couch and did a little dance. Then he ran to the front door and pressed a button to start the music. No music came on. We opened the door and saw this.

    Behind Nasty Jefferson, his dad, and the security guy were all the Nasty Jeffersons from school, their parents, and the other security guys. They were soaked, and not happy.
    ‘Whoops,’ said Dad. ‘Sorry. Still working out the buttons. Welcome though. It’s fantastic to see you all here!’
    Nasty Jefferson’s dad spoke. He had