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said.
    ‘What a load of rubbish,’ translated Matthew.
    Danny woke up one morning and there was a huge cardboard cut-out of Baby Ben Bradshaw staring down at him from the end of his bed. He jumped in fright, but it didn’t cure
him.

    Neither did being tapped gently on the head for an hour with a Wonderfluff nappy.

    Danny got out of bed and put on his dressing gown. He shuffled sleepily down the ward towards the games room. He opened the door and jumped back in shock.
    The room was crammed with children, doctors and nurses. Danny’s mum and dad, and Matthew’s mum and dad were there too, along with Natalie and Matthew, Alex and Abigail. Everyone
(apart from Abigail), was wearing a false beard, but what astonished Danny most was that every single person in the room was wearing a supersized Wonderfluff nappy over the top of their normal
clothes.

    Danny shook his head as if trying to shake the sight from his eyes.
    They all stared back at him, silent and hopeful.
    ‘Well?’ asked Mum anxiously.
    Danny rolled his eyes. ‘Are the watering cans woozy because there’s a singing kipper in my trouser pocket?’ he asked.
    Everyone in the room groaned with disappointment.
    Matthew grinned. ‘No, Dan, we’re not all wearing nappies because we had the hospital curry last night. The Boffins thought the sight of everyone wearing a nappy would cure
you.’
    Danny glanced at Natalie and chuckled. ‘Why smudge Dopey when you can elbow the bursting bubbles?’ he asked.
    Matthew laughed. ‘You’re right, Dan, she does look a total twit!’
    Natalie’s face turned crimson. She ripped her nappy off and hurled it to the floor. ‘You are going to be so sorry about this!’ she growled at the boys as she stomped out
of the games room.

    ‘Nappies off, everyone,’ called Dr Sri. Professor Walkinshaw sighed heavily. ‘The Sudden Visual-trigger Sensory-overload Resolution has failed,’ he announced. ‘I’ve failed.’
    ‘This is the most baffling case I’ve ever seen,’ one of the Brain Boffins commented. ‘We need more brains on this one.’
    The professor nodded thoughtfully. ‘I’m going to call every Baffleologist in the world. We’ll have a symposium, and Danny and Matthew will be the stars of the show!’
     
The Mighty Trump

     

    Today was the Big Day: Stinky-fish Friday.
    The games room was full of kids. Matthew had been round the hospital to pass on the plan, and everyone who could be there was there. Matt had calculated that they needed at least
sixty bottoms. Everybody had eaten stinky fish and beans and cabbage for lunch, along with second helpings of sprouts. Alex had even had third helpings. Their stomachs gurgled and groaned and
grumbled as the gas built up.
    Danny and Matthew stood in the centre of the room.
    ‘Hurry,’ moaned Alex. ‘I’m going to explode.’

    Danny knew how he felt.
    ‘Did the snapdragon spread jam on a windmill?’
    Matthew looked at Abigail. ‘Have you got the sound-level meter?’ he asked.
    She nodded and handed the small black box to Matthew. ‘Actually, I don’t need it any more,’ she admitted. ‘My ears stopped buzzing completely yesterday when I saw all
those beards. I didn’t tell them I was cured though, because they’d have sent me home and I’d have missed the Trump.’
    Matthew placed the sound-level meter in the centre of the room.
    ‘Drop a bread bin up the stairs and brush the scooter,’ Danny told Matthew. ‘Tall tigers wrestle with a jelly flea and watch the pink rabbits “boom!”.’
    ‘Everyone bend over and point your bottoms at the meter,’ Matthew instructed. ‘Danny’ll count to three – sorry, I mean “flea” – and when he says
“boom!” let rip!’
    The kids put their fingers in their ears and bowed low. Danny shouted, ‘Bun . . . glue flea . . . boom!’

    As one, they blew out the built-up gas. It was a humongous, growling, roaring trump. It was a trump so loud and ferocious that the windows in the room shattered, the