Selby Santa Read online

  This book is for a certain very clever dog.

  (I think you know who you are.)

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Christmas is a special time of presents, parties, plays, holidays and family get-togethers. Selby loves all these things and he thought it was time to tell me about some of the exciting things that have happened to him around Christmas. Not all the stories in this book are about Christmas itself. There’s an exciting spy story, a really scary one when Selby is caught in the grips of a huge, hungry python, and there’s even a great Gary Gaggs play for you to act out for your family and friends.

  As the readers of these books will know, Selby rings me up and tells me his stories and I just write them down. And when he rang me to tell me about his adventure with Santa, I just knew that I had to write this book. I hope you enjoy it.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  SELBY SANTA

  TRIM, TAUT AND TERRIFIC SELBY

  SELBY PLAYS IT RIGHT

  SAM SHOVEL CRACKS A CASE

  SELBY’S CHRISTMAS PARROT

  SELBY LOST FOR WORDS

  CONFLAGRATION!

  SECRET AGENT SELBY

  SELBY SLITHERS

  PRESENTS OF MIND

  SANTA’S SECRET

  SANTA’S REINDEER

  SELBY’S JOKE BOOK

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  About the Author

  BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  Copyright

  SELBY SANTA

  ‘That sneaky guy!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘Have you heard what Denis is up to?’

  ‘Denis Dorset?’ Dr Trifle said, looking up from his newspaper. ‘The mayor of Poshfield?’

  ‘Yes, he’s going to dress up like Santa and give out lollies at the new Poshfield Plaza Shopping Mall.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ Selby wondered. ‘I did something like that myself once.’

  ‘Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that,’ Mrs Trifle went on. ‘What makes me angry is that he’s going to put an ad in the Bogusville Banner — our newspaper. He wants to get Bogusville people to do all their shopping in Poshfield.’

  ‘I’ve got news for you,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘The ad is already in the paper. Look.’

  Dr Trifle held up a page of the Bogusville Banner. It said:

  SHOP IN PERFECT POSHFIELD!

  *

  DO

  ALL YOUR

  CHRISTMAS SHOPPING

  AT POSHFIELD PLAZA THIS

  YEAR. SANTA WILL ARRIVE BY

  HELICOPTER THIS SATURDAY AT

  1 PM. BRING THE KIDS. FREE LOLLIES!

  Mayor

  Denis

  Dorset

  *

  ‘Our Bogusville shop owners will be very upset,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Every kid in Bogusville will want their parents to take them to see Santa in Poshfield. We can’t do the same thing here in Bogusville because we could never afford to hire a helicopter.’

  ‘Poshfield Council didn’t hire that helicopter,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘They bought it.’

  ‘They’re so rich,’ Mrs Trifle sighed. ‘Remember when Denis heard that we were fixing up our sports field and he built a whole new sports stadium? Or when we were going to paint our town hall and he had a new town hall built in Poshfield? He’d just love to put our shops out of business so everyone would have to shop over there.’

  ‘Don’t worry about Denis. We’ll beat him at his own game. Have a look at the ad I’ve put in the Bogusville Banner,’ Dr Trifle said, turning to the front page:

  SHOP IN BEAUTIFUL BOGUSVILLE

  *

  BUY

  ALL YOUR

  PRESENTS IN

  BOGUSVILLE THIS

  YEAR. FORGET THE

  FAKE SANTAS! WE’VE

  GOT THE REAL SANTA AND

  HIS EIGHT REINDEER COMING AT

  SUNSET THIS FRIDAY. FREE LOLLIES!

  BRING

  THE

  KIDS!

  *

  ‘What have you done?’ Mrs Trifle cried. ‘You can’t tell people that the real Santa Claus is coming here!’

  ‘Why not? I also put the same ad in the Poshfield newspaper.’

  ‘You didn’t! You can’t tell lies like that. When the real Santa doesn’t turn up, the kids will all be crying and their parents will be furious.’

  ‘But Santa is coming … well, sort of.’

  ‘Sort of? Whatever made you do this, dear?’

  ‘Denis did. When I heard he was going to put that ad in the Poshfield newspaper, I thought: what would be better than a mayor in a Santa suit landing in a helicopter? Then something in my head clicked.’

  ‘I love it when his head clicks,’ Selby thought. ‘Dr Trifle is soooo smart!’

  ‘I knew I couldn’t get the real Santa but I thought: what if I make a Santa that everyone thinks is real. Have a look at this.’

  Mrs Trifle and Selby followed Dr Trifle into the backyard. There, standing on the grass, was a very strange thing.

  ‘Goodness me!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘A plastic horse with TV antennas sticking out of its head.’

  ‘That’s RR1,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Robot Reindeer Number One. And those things on its head are antlers. It’s the first part of my SSSS — my Super Santa Sleigh Simulator. Next Friday, just after dark, this reindeer and its seven mates will fly over the main street of Bogusville, pulling a sleigh with my Robot Santa in it. Santa will throw down lollies to the kids. They’ll never know it isn’t the real Santa.’

  ‘How will it fly? It doesn’t have wings.’

  ‘The antlers work like wings,’ Dr Trifle explained.

  Taking a control box out of his pocket, Dr Trifle wiggled the joystick, making the antlers tilt back and forth.

  ‘See? And watch what happens when I twiddle the Power Toggle,’ he said, flipping a switch.

  A blast of air shot out of the back of the reindeer with a big whoooosh blowing Selby’s ears back.

  ‘Goodness!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘There’s air coming out of its, um … its behind part!’

  ‘That’s the RRBB — the Robot Reindeer Bottom Blaster.’

  ‘It looks rude. Couldn’t you have made the air come out somewhere else?’

  ‘Not really. If it came out of its mouth, it would make the reindeer go backwards. If it came out of its belly-button, it would go straight up.’

  Dr Trifle turned a dial and the whoooosh! of air turned into a rooooaaaar pushing the reindeer across the lawn.

  ‘There are little wheels under its hooves,’ Dr Trifle yelled.

  Just before the reindeer reached the fence, Dr Trifle tilted the antlers back and it shot up into the air. In a second it was flying in circles over the house.

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ Selby thought. ‘Dr Trifle is the brilliantest inventor in the whole world!’

  ‘That’s amazing!’ Mrs Trifle said, as Dr Trifle landed the reindeer.

  ‘Just wait till I get the whole Super Santa Sleigh Simulator together. All I’ll have to do is fly it like a model aeroplane, right over the main street of Bogusville while the Robot Santa throws out lollies.’

  For the next week, Selby watched Dr Trifle work on his invention. Finally, on the day before the big flight, he put it all together in the backyard. Then he sat the Robot Santa in the sleigh with a bag of lollies in his lap.

  ‘Have a look at this,’ he said to Mrs Trifle.

  Selby and Mrs Trifle watched as Dr Trifle worked the controls and the Robot Santa began flinging lollies everywhere.

  ‘That’s very good, dear,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘but Santa doesn’t look quite right. He doesn’t have his Santa suit on.’

  ‘I’m picking up a Santa suit in the city tomorrow. He’ll be ready to fly tomorrow evening.’


  ‘I certainly hope so,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I’ve had phone calls from all around Australia, mostly from kids. They all want to know if Santa is really coming here.’

  ‘What did you tell them?’

  ‘I couldn’t lie to them but I didn’t want to tell them the truth either, so I said that they’ll have to come and see for themselves. I just hope everything goes okay.’

  ‘It will,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘This is so much fun. I’d love to know what Denis Dorset is thinking right now.’

  Suddenly there was a screech of brakes outside as a long black limousine pulled up.

  ‘I think we’re about to find out,’ Mrs Trifle said, racing into the house. ‘Quick! Close the door and draw the back curtains. We don’t want him to see your invention!’

  Dr Trifle quickly pulled the curtains shut as the doorbell rang.

  ‘My dear Mayor Trifle,’ Denis Dorset said, handing Mrs Trifle a huge bunch of roses. ‘It’s lovely to see you and Dr Trifle.’

  ‘What beautiful flowers,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Think nothing of it, dear lady. It’s the very least the mayor of Poshfield can do for the mayor of Bogusville. I’d like us to keep our friendship as fresh as these flowers.’

  ‘I wonder what Mr Smarmy-Pants wants now,’ Selby thought.

  ‘They’re lovely,’ Mrs Trifle said with a blush. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

  ‘No, not really. Well, maybe we could share information more often.’

  ‘What sort of information?’

  ‘Oh, just the usual mayor things about fixing roads, rubbish collection, Christmas plans, things like that.’

  ‘Christmas plans?’

  ‘I couldn’t help noticing your ad saying that Santa Claus is coming to Bogusville. Now we both know that it can’t really be the real Santa Claus.’

  ‘Do we?’

  ‘Of course we know that. So I was wondering if this wasn’t another of Dr Trifle’s inventions.’

  Selby watched Denis Dorset’s eyes dart around the room.

  ‘This guy’s a spy!’ Selby thought. ‘He’s even trying to take a sneaky peek through the crack in the curtains!’

  ‘Denis,’ Mrs Trifle said firmly,‘you’ll just have to come and see for yourself.’

  The mayor of Poshfield stood still for a moment, rubbing his hands together and smiling.

  ‘I will, will I?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s all the information you’re going to get. Now, if you don’t have anything else to say …’

  ‘All right,’ Denis said, opening the front door. ‘I’ll be here at sunset on Friday and so will all the Poshfield police.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You may not know this, dear lady, but it is against the law to put ads in newspapers that aren’t true. So if your Santa Claus isn’t the real Santa Claus, the one who lives at the North Pole, then I’m afraid there’s going to be trouble. Have a lovely day.’

  ‘Goodness!’ Dr Trifle said after Denis Dorset had left. ‘I knew I wasn’t exactly telling the truth but I didn’t know I was breaking the law.’

  ‘Why didn’t you talk to me first?’ Mrs Trifle sighed. ‘I hope this invention of yours fools everyone.’

  ‘I hope so, too.’

  ‘That goes for me, too,’ Selby thought.

  That night, Selby dreamed that he was flying Dr Trifle’s sleigh and that it went out of control and crashed. He woke up suddenly.

  ‘That was soooo scary’ he thought. ‘I hate nightmares.’

  Selby would have gone right back to sleep if it hadn’t been for the tiniest of tiny sounds coming from behind the house.

  ‘I wonder what that could be?’ he said to himself. He peeped out through the back curtain. ‘It’s Denis Dorset! That sneaky, creepy guy! Hey, he’s right next to the Super Santa Sleigh Simulator! Now he knows Dr Trifle’s secret! I’ve got to stop him before he does something to it!’

  Selby was out in the backyard in a flash, barking his loudest bark and showing his teeth. Denis ran towards the back fence with Selby nipping at him.

  ‘Good boy, good boy,’ Denis whispered as he leaped over the fence. ‘Stupid mutt.’

  ‘That guy was up to no good,’ Selby thought, as he went back inside and lay down again. ‘He was trying to ruin Dr Trifle’s invention. Lucky I chased him away just in time. Okay, so he knows the secret now but he can’t tell anyone because then he’d have to say that he sneaked into our backyard — and that’s against the law. I should have given him a great big bite on the bum.’

  The next morning, Dr Trifle started out early to drive to the city and Mrs Trifle went to work as usual. By the time she returned, Dr Trifle was back, the Santa suit was on the Robot Santa and everything was ready.

  ‘People have been coming here from all over the country!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘The whole main street is already full of kids waiting to see your Santa. The shop owners are really happy. Parents keep buying and buying and buying. Oh, I do hope your invention is ready to fly.’

  ‘It is,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘And it’s time to send it on its way!’

  ‘Oh, this is so exciting!’ Selby thought.

  Within a minute, Santa and his Robot Reindeer were flying in circles over the house.

  ‘That looks fantastic!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Just make sure it stays way up in the air and then no one will know it’s not the real Santa. Is it loaded with lollies?’

  ‘It certainly is,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Watch, I’ll now activate the Robot Santa Lolly-Flinging Mechanism.’

  With the flick of a switch, Santa’s arm went into the lolly bag and flung a handful of lollies down into the backyard.

  ‘There, perfect,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Now off he goes.’

  Suddenly, Santa threw down another handful of lollies and then another.

  ‘You’d better save the lollies till he’s over the town,’ Mrs Trifle said.

  ‘There’s something wrong,’ Dr Trifle said, as another lot of lollies whistled down. ‘I turned the switch off but he’s still chucking them.’

  Santa’s arm was moving at blinding speed now, peppering the backyard with lollies, each lot coming down faster and faster.

  ‘Turn it off!’ Mrs Trifle screamed, ducking for cover.

  ‘I can’t! Something’s terribly wrong!’

  Suddenly Santa’s lolly-throwing arm came crashing down, followed by his other arm. And now Santa’s head tumbled off his body and smashed into the grass. Selby jumped into a bush as the rest of the Robot Santa hit the side of the pool and splintered into pieces. Dr Trifle quickly landed the sleigh.

  ‘What went wrong?’ Mrs Trifle asked.

  ‘I don’t know. It worked perfectly yesterday.’

  ‘I know what happened,’ Selby thought. ‘That dirty Denis fiddled with the controls last night! I thought I’d stopped him in time, but I didn’t.’

  ‘This is terrible,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Santa is … dead.’

  ‘And there’s no time to fix him,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I could fly in the sleigh myself but I’m too heavy. It would never get off the ground.’

  Mrs Trifle looked at her husband and shook her head.

  ‘What can we do?’ she said with a big sigh. ‘We’ll have to go to town and tell everyone that Santa isn’t coming after all. The kids are going to be very sad.’

  ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I never should have started this. It’s all my fault.’

  ‘It’s all Denis’s fault,’ Selby thought, as he watched the Trifles drive away. ‘He’s ruined everything. And now Santa’s not going to come and Dr Trifle will be in big trouble. I’m just going to have to tell the Trifles what really happened. I’ll have to finally give away my secret and ruin my life forever.’

  Selby paced back and forth, thinking about what he would tell the Trifles.

  ‘Denis Dorset sneaked into the yard last night and — No, hang on, I’d better tell them about me first because they’re going to get a big surprise when
I start talking. I’ll say, I may only be a dog but — Hmmm, they already know I’m a dog. How about, You may be surprised to hear this but one day I was watching TV and suddenly I could understand everything people were saying? — I don’t like that. I’ll get right into it. I’m a dog, I can talk, so get over it. Last night when you were sleeping — No, that doesn’t sound right either. What am I going to do?’

  Selby paced faster and faster, his thoughts bouncing around in pieces in his brain. Suddenly some of them came together.

  ‘I don’t have to give away my secret!’ he cried. ‘And Dr Trifle doesn’t have to get into trouble! Selby Santa to the rescue!’

  Selby jumped into the Santa suit, gathered up the lollies and in a flash he was sitting in the sleigh. He pushed the ON button on the controls and eight great whooshes of air blasted back at him.

  ‘Here goes!’ he cried as he roared across the lawn and then, with a twiddle of the toggle, shot up into the air.

  ‘Hey! It’s working! I’m flying!’ he screamed in his brain.

  Selby tore through the air like a rocket, going higher and higher.

  ‘This is wonderful!’ he cried. ‘Now I know what it must be like for the real Santa! Ooops! It is kind of bumpy though.’

  Selby’s sleigh headed for the centre of Bogusville as the air got bumpier and bumpier.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ he said to himself. ‘I thought it would all be smooth!’

  Lollies flew out with every bump and then there was one super big bump, which sent the controls flying out of Selby’s paws. Now the sleigh was completely out of control, spiralling downwards and then upwards again. One more big bump and Selby flew out of the seat.

  ‘Oh, no!’ he cried, as he clung to the bottom of the sleigh. ‘Oh, woe woe woe! I can’t hold on any longer.’

  In a second, Selby was tumbling through the air. His whole life flashed in front of his eyes. He remembered his first Christmas, just after the Trifles picked him up from the RSPCA. He remembered his next Christmas and the next and every present he ever got.

  ‘I’ve had my last prezzie ever,’ he whimpered. ‘I’m a done dog.’