Selby Scrambled Page 7

  Selby watched as the accountant transferred the right amount of money.

  ‘Goodbye, Selby,’ he said, giving Selby a pat. ‘You were a very naughty dog just then but you kept me from making a terrible mistake. You’ll never know how much you helped me.’

  ‘No,’ Selby thought, as the accountant walked to his car,‘you’rethe one who will never know how much I helped you. Goodbye and good luck.’

  SELBY ON AIR

  ‘Let’s talk about school holidays,’ the man on the radio said. ‘Do kids need breaks from school? If you have any thoughts on this, give us a ring. This is Mike Balistik, known around here as Magic Mike, coming to you from Radio OK4U, the Heart of the Bush.’

  ‘Hey, I like the sound of this guy,’ Selby thought, as he lay in the lounge room listening to the radio.

  ‘Why do we pay for schools and then leave them empty for months of the year?’ Mike continued. ‘Wouldn’t kids learn more if they went to school every day?’

  ‘Good point, Mike,’ Selby thought.

  ‘And what do kids do on holidays? Nothing.

  They watch TV. They sleep-in in the morning. Parents have to miss work to stay at home and look after them. They waste their time — and everyone else’s. Do they learn anything on their holidays? Of course not.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Selby thought. ‘I hadn’t ever considered that.’

  ‘And when they leave the house it’s to get into trouble. I say keep them in school and out of trouble. Okay, do we have any callers on the line, Richard?’

  ‘Putting Laurence through, Mike.’

  ‘Hello, Laurence.’

  ‘Hello, Magic Mike, I love your show,’ a man said. ‘It’s so great to hear someone who’s not afraid to speak his mind.’

  ‘Thanks, Laurence. There isn’t enough of it these days, is there?’

  ‘That’s for sure. Mike, you know how you were saying that kids should always go to school and that? Over in Bogusville some kids were on school holidays and they went back to their school and broke a window.’

  ‘Is that right, Laurence? Well, it wouldn’t happen if we kept them in school. Thanks for that, Laurence.(Click) Anyone else on the line, Richard?’

  ‘I remember that broken window,’ Selby thought. ‘Willy and Billy did it and boy did they get into trouble!’

  ‘We’ve got Camilla on the line, Mike.’

  ‘Hello, Camilla. What do you think about getting rid of school holidays?’

  ‘Mr Balistik, I’m a teacher and I think that kids need time off from school. They need to get away from school work to get their energy back.’

  ‘Hey, that sounds like Camilla Bonzer,’ Selby thought, ‘the librarian at Bogusville Primary School. She’s got a point.’

  ‘Do you know what, Camilla?’ Magic Mike said. ‘I think you’re wrong. You just want the kids to have holidays so you can have lots of holidays.’

  ‘No, don’t you see how important it is —’

  ‘I can see all right! I can see that you’re an idiot! An idiot who only cares about yourself!’

  ‘But-but-but —’

  ‘But nothing. You’d let the kids off for half the year if it was up to you.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t. It’s just that —’

  ‘Yes, you would! You’d have them going to school for one month every year so that you could go on holidays for the rest of the time. Well, it’s just not good enough. There are people who are right and there are people who are wrong and you are wrong wrong wrong, lady! Wake up to yourself! Cut her off, Richard, she’s an idiot.’

  (Click)

  ‘What’s wrong with me?’ Mike said with a sigh. ‘I just think that people ought to do a good day’s work for a good day’s pay.’

  ‘Now wait, Mike,’ Selby thought. ‘Camilla had a point. You didn’t even listen to her side of it.’

  ‘And now let’s talk about dogs,’ Mike went on. ‘Filthy, nasty, flea-bitten, dangerous creatures — a bunch of do-nothings that poop all over footpaths. Why don’t we all get together and round them up and shoot them? Anyone out there want to talk about dogs?’

  ‘I do, Mike,’ Selby said, grabbing the phone and dialling Radio OK4U. ‘My name’s Sel — Selig. May I speak to Magic Mike, please?’

  ‘Putting you through.’

  ‘Mike, is that you?’

  ‘What is it, Selig?’

  ‘About dogs being filthy and nasty, and dangerous and that.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Well, we’re not all like that —’

  ‘We?’ Mike laughed. ‘Did you say, we? Like you’re a dog or something?’

  ‘No, sorry, I meant they. You see most of what you say is really the owners’ fault, not the dogs’ fault.’

  ‘Wrong, Selig! Cut this guy off, Richard!’

  ‘Let me explain,’ Selby went on. ‘Take fleas for example —’

  ‘Cut him off!’

  ‘— the only thing dogs can do about fleas is scratch. And that doesn’t get rid of them. Only the owners can get flea medicine.’

  ‘Richard, cut this idiot off!’

  ‘A dog can’t just walk into a vet’s surgery and say, “I’d like some Flea-Off,” and then hand over the money, now can he?’

  ‘Richard, if you don’t hang up on this fool then I quit!’

  ‘Hear him out, Mike,’ Richard said. ‘I like the sound of this guy.’

  ‘The only sound I’d like from this guy is the sound of my foot on his backside,’ Mike said.

  ‘And as for dogs being do-nothings,’ Selby continued. ‘Where would farmers be without sheep and cattle dogs? Where would blind people be without guide dogs?’

  ‘Most dogs don’t do anything, Selig. What a stupid name — Selig. Richard, I’m warning you. Cut him off or I’m outta here!’

  ‘Dogs,’ Selby said calmly, ‘are faithful and loyal and loving and kind. They are the most wonderful creatures on earth. And why do I say this, Mike? Because they make people happy.’

  ‘Richard!’

  ‘Can you think of anything better than making people happy? Do you have any idea what might happen if we got rid of dogs?’

  ‘Okay, I’m outta here! You can take this stupid show and do whatever you want with it, Richie, old boy, because I’m heading back to the city! Goodbye and good riddance to all of you flyblown bush-bunnies.’

  (Slam!)

  Selby went on and on talking about the friendship between dogs and their owners. When he was finished Richard’s voice said, ‘Thank you for your call today, Selig. Could you hold while we go to a commercial?’

  ‘Sure.’

  As the song for the Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits ad came on the radio, Selby heard Richard’s voice again.

  ‘Hi, Selig, this is Richard here, the producer. We’re not on air now. I wanted to say that you were very good. You have a great way with words.’

  ‘It’s just that I feel very strongly about dogs,’ Selby explained.

  ‘You probably feel strongly about a lot of things,’ the producer said. ‘Quite frankly I’m glad to see the end of Mike. He was getting very boring. We were losing our audience. Besides, how dumb is it to attack dogs when the Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuit Company pays for ads on this show? Get me?’

  ‘I think so,’ Selby said, not really sure that he did.

  ‘Now, Selig, I have an offer for you. How would you like to be the new Magic Mike? We’ll call you Silvertone Selig, because you’re a smooth talker.’

  ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly.’

  ‘You’re good, Selig. Already the switchboard is flooded with calls from people who love you.’

  ‘Really? No, the thing is I have a bit of a problem with my appearance.’

  ‘Are you ugly or something? This is radio, Selig. No one will see you.’

  ‘No one but you,’ Selby said.

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ the producer said. ‘You want to keep your privacy, don’t you? You don’t want people to find out who you really are or where you live because the
y’d ruin your life forever.’

  ‘Spot on,’ Selby said.

  ‘Selig probably isn’t even your real name.’

  ‘Right again.’

  ‘I don’t care who you really are or where you live, just come in here with a bag over your head and do the radio show. How does that sound?’

  ‘It could be fun,’ Selby said. ‘I’ll think about

  it.’

  It was a strange sight. Standing at the studio door was what looked like a man in a dog suit. But of course we know that it wasn’t a man in a dog suit but a dog in a dog suit — Selby’s disguise.

  ‘That’s perfect!’ Richard said, shaking a paw of the dog suit, little knowing that there was a real paw inside. ‘No wonder you like dogs — you are one! Have a seat, Selig, you’re on the air.’

  Selby looked around nervously. On the other side of the glass the producer was telling him to start talking.

  ‘Hello, folks,’ Selby started, ‘I’m your new DJ, Silvertone Selig. What don’t we like? I don’t know about you but I don’t like people who spit on the ground.’

  The producer nodded and put the first caller through.

  ‘Hi there, Silvertone,’ the man said. ‘This spitting business: I wouldn’t spit if anyone was looking but if there’s no one there, what does it matter?’

  ‘It’s not just about people seeing you spit,’ Selby said. ‘It’s about germs. When you spit, germs go into the air and into the ground water and someone else can catch them.’

  In the first commercial break, Richard said, ‘That was great, Selig. What are you going to talk about next?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Selby said. ‘How about chocolate?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It’s bad for dogs.’

  ‘Forget dogs. We’ve done them. What else?’

  ‘I could say that a little bit can be good for people but too much can be bad,’ Selby said. ‘Something like that?’

  ‘No, Selig, take my advice — you hate chocolate.’

  ‘I do?’

  ‘You do,’ Richard said. ‘People want strength, energy, strong opinions, Selig. They don’t want “on the one hand this and on the other hand that“. They want to know what makes you angry. Now why do you hate chocolate?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Selby said. ‘At the movies people sometimes unwrap crinkly chocolate wrappers and make too much noise.’

  ‘Good one,’ Richard said. ‘Keep it up. You’re on in five, four, three, two, one …’

  The producer pointed to Selby.

  ‘This is Silvertone Selig here and I hate chocolate,’ Selby said. ‘Sticky brown mucky stuff. What do you think? Do we have anyone on the line, Richard?’

  ‘I’ve got Emily here, Selig.’

  ‘Hi there, Selig,’ Emily said. ‘I like you much better than that Mike guy.’

  ‘Thanks, Em,’ Selby said. ‘What do you think about chocolate?’

  ‘I don’t mind it, Selig. And I like chocolate ice-cream, too.’

  ‘Have you ever had a chocolate bar melt in your pocket?’ Selby asked.

  ‘Well, yes, once. It made a terrible mess and I got into heaps of trouble.’

  ‘There you go,’ Selby said. ‘And you do know that too much chocolate can ruin your teeth and make you fat?’

  ‘That’s true,’ Emily said. ‘I guess you’re right, Selig.’

  ‘How was that?’ Selby asked the producer in the next break.

  ‘It was good, Selig, but try to get to the point. Say, “You love chocolate but look at yourself: you’re fat and your teeth are falling out!’”

  ‘But what if she’s thin and her teeth are okay?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll cut her off before she can say it and then you get stuck into her when she can’t answer. It’s an old trick of the trade.’

  ‘I’m not sure about this, Richard,’ Selby said.

  ‘Okay, it’s up to you, Selig. But here’s something that’ll make you boiling mad. There are some people trying to rip off country people.’

  ‘Really? How?’

  ‘They’re running a raffle. Buy a ticket and you win a car.’

  ‘That sounds okay,’ Selby said.

  ‘What they’re really out to do is to con people into buying lots of raffle tickets. Sure, the winner gets the car. But who gets the rest of the money? It goes straight into the greedy little pockets of the organisers.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ Selby said. ‘That makes me really mad.’

  ‘I thought it would. It’s called the BHB Raffle. You’re on in three, two, one …’

  ‘This is Radio OK4U and this is Silvertone Selig,’ Selby said. ‘I’ve just learnt about a raffle called the BHB Raffle. Well, folks, it ought to be called the RO Raffle because it’s a rip-off. Does anyone want to talk about this?’

  A moment later the producer told Selby that Mrs Smith was on the phone.

  ‘You’re on the air, Mrs Smith,’ Selby said.

  ‘I just wanted to say that the BHB Raffle is a good thing. In fact, I’m one of the organisers and —’

  ‘Ahah!’ Selby said. ‘And you want to collect much more money than the cost of the car?’

  ‘That’s true but —’

  ‘And then you keep the extra money, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, that’s not exactly —’

  ‘And your name probably isn’t even Mrs Smith.’

  ‘No, it isn’t but —’

  ‘Cut her off, Richard!’ Selby boomed. ‘I’ve heard enough from this greedy, selfish woman!’

  (Click)

  ‘She’s just out for herself and her mates. All she wants to do is take your hard-earned money so she won’t have to do a good day’s work for a good day’s pay. Well, I hate it. And I know you do, too.’

  The producer made a wind-up signal with his finger in the air.

  ‘And that’s all from me, Silvertone Selig. I’ll catch you again tomorrow.’

  ‘That was excellent!’ the producer said when the program finished. ‘You made short work of that lying woman. You’re a natural.’

  ‘I kind of enjoyed it,’ Selby admitted. ‘It’s fun getting all angry. Do you really want me to do it again tomorrow?’

  ‘Absolutely! And the day after that and the day after that. If you keep going like this, everyone will want to advertise on this show. We’ll be rich! We can talk about money tomorrow. Hey, how about taking off the dog suit so I can see who you really are?’

  ‘I’m really a dog,’ Selby said. ‘A dog in a dog suit.’

  ‘You’re what?’ the producer looked puzzled and then he burst into laughter. ‘A dog in a dog suit. That’s a good one. See you tomorrow, Silvertone.’

  That evening, Selby was lying on the carpet in the Trifles’ lounge room thinking of what he was going to say the next day on his radio show. Mrs Trifle came in late from a meeting at the council. There were tears in her eyes.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Dr Trifle asked.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Everything is just too hard,’ she said. ‘And people can be so mean.’

  ‘Mean?’

  ‘Yes, I rang up the radio station today about the BHB Raffle — you know, the Bush Hospitals’ Benefit.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought. ‘Mrs Smith was really Mrs Trifle!’

  ‘Why?’ Dr Trifle asked.

  ‘The hospitals really need money to keep going,’ Mrs Trifle sniffed. ‘But instead of helping us, this new presenter attacked me.’

  ‘Gulp,’ Selby gulped. ‘Oh, no, what have I done?’

  ‘He attacked me and he attacked the raffle,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘We’ve only sold eight dollars in tickets so far and now no one’s going to buy any more. We’ll have to give away the car and we’ll end up losing thousands and thousands of dollars. And it was my idea for the raffle.’

  ‘Poor Mrs Trifle,’ Selby thought, as he lay wide awake through the night. ‘And it’s all my fault. I got in front of that microphone and I suddenly got angry. I think I got mike rage! Oh,
woe woe woe.’

  The next day, Selby went to the radio station again.

  ‘What are you going to talk about today?’ the producer asked.

  ‘The raffle,’ Selby answered.

  ‘Do you have something new to say about

  it?’

  ‘Yes, I certainly do.’

  ‘Okay, coming up now … five, four, three, two, one …’

  ‘This is Radio OK4U, coming to you from the Heart of the Bush and this is Silvertone Selig. Yesterday I talked about the BHB Raffle — only I was wrong, folks. I don’t mind admitting that I was wrong.’

  Selby watched as the shocked producer opened the door into the studio.

  ‘What are you saying?’ he whispered.

  ‘BHB stand for Bush Hospitals’ Benefit,’ Selby went on. ‘The hospitals are in desperate need of money and the raffle is to raise that money.’

  ‘Selig, they don’t want to hear that!’

  ‘So if you can possibly afford it, please buy as many tickets as you can. You could win a car, but even if you don’t, the money is all going to a worthy cause.’

  ‘And I’m going to turn your mike off!’ Richard yelled.

  ‘Oh, no, you’re not!’ Selby said, covering the switch with both paws. ‘And another thing, listeners,’ he went on, ‘if you have a dog, don’t buy him — or her — Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuits. They’re mostly sawdust. I know, I’ve eaten tonnes of them!’

  ‘You what? You’re killing us, Silvertone!’ the producer screamed. ‘Who are you, anyway? I’m going to find out just who you are!’

  The producer grabbed the head of Selby’s dog suit and started pulling.

  ‘You get your hands off me!’ Selby yelled.

  Selby put his paws on top of his head but the producer was too strong for him. Slowly, the head of the dog suit came off.

  ‘A dog!’ the producer gasped. ‘What a disguise! You put on a dog suit — and then you put on another dog suit! Now let’s see who you really are!’ he said, grabbing Selby’s real head and trying to pull it off. ‘Ouch! You bit me!’ he screamed, falling backward as Selby made for the door. ‘I can’t believe this! I’ve been bitten by the head of a dog suit!’