Free Just Tricking! by Andy Griffiths

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    â€˜You know,’ I say, ‘maybe it’s just me, but I don’t find that very funny.’
    Lik and Leech are both silent.
    â€˜And another thing I don’t find very funny is you two hassling me every time I walk past. It’s got to stop.’
    â€˜Sorry,’ says Lik. ‘We were just mucking around. How about a milkshake to make up for it?’
    I should leave it here and just keep walking up the hill, but I’m enjoying my newfound power too much. I remember the cool milkshakes that Lik used to make for me back in the days when we were friends. Two heaped teaspoons of malt, eggs, ice-cream and about half a bottle of chocolate syrup. Hardly any room for the milk. Beautiful.
    â€˜Thought you’d never ask,’ I say.

    â€˜Okay,’ says Lik. ‘I’ll go get you one, won’t be a sec.’
    â€˜No, not takeaway,’ I say. ‘I think I’ll drink it inside, if that’s okay with you. Sun’s kind of hot today.’
    Leech and Lik look at each other.
    â€˜Yeah, Andy,’ says Lik. ‘Of course. Come in.’
    We start walking up the drive. I’m so cool I can’t believe it.
    Inside, I pick the best seat in the loungeroom and plonk my feet up on the coffee table. There’s a pile of magazines on top of the table, so I push them all off onto the carpet with my feet.

    â€˜I think I’ll just wait here while you make my milkshake,’ I say.
    â€˜Sure, fine,’ says Lik.
    I grab the remote and turn on the television. I turn up the sound full-blast so that it’s distorting.

    Lik pokes his head around the door.
    â€˜Hey, Andy!’ he says.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Can you turn that down a bit?’
    â€˜No,’ I say. ‘I like it loud.’
    Lik just stands there like he’s not sure whether to rip the remote out of my hand and shove it down my throat or just leave it.
    â€˜Wanna make something of it?’ I say.
    â€˜No,’ he says, ‘of course not. You’re the guest. What flavour milkshake do you want?’
    â€˜Chocolate, of course,’ I say.
    â€˜Coming up,’ he says and goes back into the kitchen.
    I start flicking through the channels on the remote. ‘Playschool’ on Channel Two. The presenters are pretending to be kookaburras. They’re singing a song.
    â€˜Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bush is he . . . ’
    I know exactly how that kookaburra feels. I’m the king and Lik and Leech are my subjects. They will do anything I tell them to. I watch a bit more of ‘Playschool’, then turn it off.
    â€˜What’s taking so long?’ I call.

    â€˜Almost ready,’ yells Leech.
    I hear the high-pitched whine of the blender. My mouth starts watering. Steve Lik’s milkshakes are really something else.
    The blender stops.
    â€˜I don’t want it in the container, either,’ I say. ‘I want it in a glass. With a straw!’
    â€˜No worries,’ calls Lik.
    Leech enters the room with the milkshake on a tray. Lik is right behind him.
    Leech places the tray on top of the coffee table. The milkshake is in one of those old-fashioned glasses with ridges down the side and a crazy straw sticking out. There is a scoop of chocolate ice-cream sitting on top.

    Lik picks up the glass and gives it to me. Then they both kneel down on either side of my chair and stare at me.
    â€˜Do you mind?’ I say.
    â€˜No,’ says Leech, his lips curling into a slight smile.
    â€˜Well, what are you waiting for?’
    â€˜We just want to watch you drink it,’ says Lik.

    â€˜We just want to watch you enjoy it,’ says Leech.
    There’s something about the way he says ‘enjoy’ that I don’t like.
    I push my arm forward to make sure they remember who’s boss here. I look at them, look at my tattoo and look back at them to make sure they’ve got the message.
    But they