Just Crazy by Andy Griffiths

‘The place is a mess. Everything is wrecked!’
    I wish there was something I could say. Something I could do that would make her feel better.
    Hang on! There is!
    â€˜No, Mum,’ I say. ‘Not everything ! ’
    â€˜Well, it certainly looks that way to me,’ she says.

    â€˜But I saved these,’ I say. ‘Your crystal animals. Look.’
    I put the tennis racquets down and reach into my pocket.
    That’s funny.
    I thought I put three in there but it feels like a lot more.
    I hold out my hand.
    â€˜Um-mah,’ says Jemima.
    â€˜Um-mah,’ says Eve.
    â€˜Well?’ says Mum, bending down to pick up one of the tennis racquets. ‘What have you got to say for yourself?’
    I look down at the shattered crystal in my hand.
    â€˜Um-mah,’ I say.

anny is in my bedroom, pressing his face up against my goldfish bowl, staring intently at my new goldfish. He’s got his hand above Goldie’s bowl.
    â€˜Here fishy, fishy, fishy,’ he says, as he follows Goldie around with his fingers.

    â€˜Danny,’ I say. ‘Quit it.’
    â€˜Did you know this guy in Texas in 1970 swallowed two hundred and twenty-five live goldfish?’ he says. ‘It’s the world record.’
    â€˜Shush!’ I say. ‘Goldie might hear you!’
    â€˜Don’t be stupid,’ says Danny. ‘Goldfish can’t hear anything — they’re underwater’.
    â€˜It doesn’t matter whether they can hear you or not,’ I say. ‘Goldfish are very sensitive. They pick up on your vibes. Especially Goldie.’

    â€˜What do you think it would be like to have a live goldfish in your stomach?’ says Danny. ‘Do you think you’d be able to feel it swimming around and around inside you?’
    â€˜I’m warning you, Danny,’ I say.
    But he’s not listening.
    He dips his hand into the bowl and grabs Goldie. He tips his head back and dangles her above his mouth.

    â€˜That’s not funny!’ I yell. ‘Put her back!’
    Danny just laughs.
    He lowers Goldie until she’s almost touching his lips.
    He’s going to do it. He’s really going to do it. I’ve got to stop him.
    I throw myself across the room, but I’m too late.
    Danny drops Goldie into his mouth and swallows her. In one gulp. Whole.
    â€˜Hey!’ I say, pushing him in the chest. ‘You ate my goldfish!’
    â€˜It was an accident,’ he says. ‘It slipped.’
    â€˜That’s a lie and you know it!’ I say. ‘You deliberately ate her!’
    â€˜Shush,’ says Danny. He tilts his head as if listening to a faraway sound.
    â€˜Hey,’ he giggles, ‘I can feel it! It tickles.’
    I’m so angry I’m shaking. Not only has he swallowed Goldie, he doesn’t even care. Well, I’ll make him care.
    I clench my fist tight and swing at his head, but he steps nimbly to the side and I end up punching the air.
    I look at my fist. I look at Danny. He is bouncing around on his tiptoes like a boxer.
    â€˜Missed me,’ he says. ‘Have another go!’

    I punch again, but Danny skips out of the way.
    â€˜Too slow,’ he says.
    I line him up again.
    Then I let fly. And this time I connect.
    KAPOW!
    Danny’s head snaps back.
    There’s an enormous cracking sound and the next thing I know Danny’s head is flying across my room towards the window.
    It bounces off the glass and splashes down into my fishbowl. His head completely fills the bowl. His distorted face looks out at me, his mouth slowly opening and closing.
    This is crazy. It can’t be happening. Punching someone can’t make their head come off, can it? And even if it could, shouldn’t they be dead? Their headless body shouldn’t bestaggering around bumping into walls should it?
    Because that’s what Danny’s headless body is doing.

    And what’s that noise?
    It sounds like laughter.