Free Just Annoying! by Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton

thumbs up.
    We’re almost out of trouble.
    But I don’t want to take any chances.
    Not when our lives are at stake.
    I’ve still got the incense sticks.
    I wave to Danny.
    He comes over.
    â€˜Danny,’ I say. ‘I need you to light the barbecue.’

    â€˜You can eat?’ he says. ‘At a time like this?’
    â€˜No,’ I say. ‘I’m not hungry. I want to use it to burn some incense. We can waft the smoke across to Mr Broadbent’s house. The smell will help to calm him even more.’
    â€˜Anything is worth a try,’ says Danny. ‘What do I do?’
    â€˜Here,’ I say. I give him the incense. ‘Light the fire and then chuck these on top. If we burn them all at once it will be really intense.’
    â€˜Where’s the barbecue?’
    â€˜In the carport. But you’ll need to wheel it closer to the fence.’
    Danny wheels the barbecue—half a forty-four gallon drum mounted on a frame with wheels—down to the other end of the drive away from the hose spray. He grabs a branch full of dead gum leaves from the garden and puts it in the top of the drum.

    â€˜Got a match?’ says Danny.
    â€˜Your face and a monkey’s bum.’
    â€˜Don’t joke! This is serious.’
    â€˜I’m not joking,’ I say.
    Danny shakes his head. He falls for it every time.
    â€˜Just tell me where the matches are.’
    â€˜They’re under the barbecue.’
    He pulls the box out and lights a match. He drops it into the middle of the dead leaves. A thin white strand of smoke rises almost immediately.
    â€˜Quick!’ I say. ‘Put the incense on top!’
    Danny throws the incense on.
    The leaves burst into flame, but the blaze is too strong. The smoke is going straight up into the air.
    â€˜It’s not working, Danny. You need to fan the smoke across the fence.’
    â€˜How?’ he says.
    â€˜I dunno—use your shirt or something.’
    Danny pulls his T-shirt over his head. He starts flapping it wildly. The smoke billows around him. He coughs.
    â€˜Is it working?’ he says. ‘I can’t see a thing.’

    â€˜Not exactly,’ I say. ‘You’ll have to fan harder.’
    Danny goes into fanning overdrive.
    The smoke starts heading towards Mr Broadbent’s office.
    â€˜That’s it, Danny! Keep going!’
    I can just imagine Mr Broadbent. He’s probably sitting back with his feet on the desk. Arms behind his head. Eyes closed as he listens to the calming music and the relaxing rain. Taking deep breaths of soothing incense. Forgetting all about his work, his problems and, most importantly, his threat to murder us.
    Danny is piling more leaves onto the barbecue.
    â€˜Hang on, Danny, I think that will do,’ I say.
    But Danny doesn’t hear me above the crackling of the fire. He keeps piling on more leaves. Showers of sparks fly into the air. The ends of half-burnt branches are falling to the ground. Danny keeps fanning.

    â€˜Danny! Stop it!’
    His fanning is sending a torrent of sparks towards the fence. There’s smoke everywhere.
    Uh-oh. Just as I feared.
    Not all of the smoke is coming from the barbecue.
    Dad is always saying how he’s going to pull the old dead passionfruit vine off the back fence. Well, he won’t have to bother now.
    â€˜Danny! No more fanning! The vine is on fire.’

    Danny comes to his senses.
    â€˜Huh? What? Help!’ he yells. FIRE!’
    I remember I’m holding the hose.
    I point it towards the fire but it’s too short to reach. I try to pull it closer but the water almost cuts off completely because of the tangle.
    The flames are leaping high into the air. The whole fence will go up unless we do something fast.
    â€˜What do I do?’ yells Danny.
    There is a pile of fresh grass clippings on the other side of the driveway. They’re only a couple of days old. They might help to damp the