Free Selby Speaks by Duncan Ball Page A

servant than a dead dog with a secret.
    “The filing cabinet or the shopping trolley?” the puzzled driver asked.
    “Neither,” Selby said. “The cupboard.”
    “Now wait just a minute,” the driver said. “Cupboards can’t talk.”
    “Neither can filing cabinets and shopping trolleys, you nit,” Selby said. “But this one has a dog in it so open the drawer and let me out before I suffocate.”
    The driver turned the cupboard over and very carefully opened the drawer.
    “Crikey!” he said, grabbing Selby by the collar. “You really are a talking dog! I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears. I’ll be rich! Say something, dog.”
    “Bow wow wow,” Selby said, trying to keep his secret now that he wasn’t about to be dumped over the cliff.
    “Don’t give me that bow wow wow rubbish,” the driver said, giving Selby a good shake. “Give me some proper English. You can speak it and I know you can so don’t try to kid me.”
    “Let go of me, you drongo!” Selby said, pulling loose and jumping down from the truck. “You’ll never catch me now! And don’t bother telling anyone you’ve seen a talking dog because nobody’s going to believe you.”
    Just then the truck started to roll and the driver found that his belt buckle was caught in the back. To make matters worse, it was headed straight for the cliff.
    “Help!” the driver screamed, trying to pull his buckle loose as he tiptoed madly after the truck. “Help! Please don’t let me go over the cliff!”
    Selby thought for a second and then ran after the runaway truck and jumped into the cabin. He started pulling knobs and levers but the truck hurtled on towards the cliff, going faster and faster.
    Suddenly he remembered a TV show he’d seen called
All About Cars,
and he jumped down to the floor and pulled up the handbrake. The truck screeched to a stop only a centimetre from the edge of the cliff.
    “Sheeeesh!” Selby said, hopping out and running for home, leaving the driver tountangle his belt buckle. “That was too close for comfort.”

    That evening, Mrs Trifle came home very tired.
    “I need a holiday,” she told Dr Trifle while Selby lay on the latest copy of the
Bogusville Banner
secretly reading
Wonderful Wanda, Maker of Music
. “I must be working too hard. Today one of the council truck drivers said he saw a talking dog so I gave him a month off work, poor man. If I don’t take some time off soon,” she said, looking over at Selby, “I’ll be seeing talking dogs too.”
    “Little does she know,” Selby thought and he squinted his eyes so she couldn’t see them moving as he finished reading
Wonderful Wanda,
“that she’s looking at one.”

Selby Gagged
    The good news was that Gary Gaggs, the corniest comedian in Australia, was back in Bogusville to do his comedy act at the Bogusville School of Arts Banquet. The bad news was that he was staying with Dr and Mrs Trifle.
    “Oh, woe woe woe,” Selby thought as Dr Trifle greeted his old friend at the door. “Of all the places to stay in Bogusville, why, oh why, oh why, does he have to stay here?”
    “You’re looking great, Blinky!” Gary said, using Dr Trifle’s old nickname and shaking his hand furiously. “As for me, I just flew in from Perth and my arms are tired! Woo woo woo!”
    Every time Gary told a joke he strutted around like a rooster, pumping his elbows up and down and saying, “Woo woo woo!”
    “His jokes are absolutely awful!” Selby thought. “But the problem is — it’s all I can do to keep from laughing at them. And if I ever laughed — if I ever even
smiled
— my secret would be out! I’ve got to get out of here quick!”
    Selby dashed for the door but Gary reached out and grabbed him by the collar.
    “Selby’s a real locksmith dog,” Gary said, patting him on the head.
    “A locksmith dog?” Dr Trifle asked.
    “Yes. He just made a
bolt
for the door! Woo woo woo!” Gary boomed. “Seriously though, I had a