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Beetle Creek Books
Beetle Creek Books
Category:
Humor
Publisher: Beetle Creek Books
ISBN-10: 0646466941
Type: Fiction
Pages: 334
Copyright: October 2006
AUD$27.95 US$13.99 + postage $7 GBP 10.99 + postage 2.00 see website www.beetlecreekbooks.com
THE BOURNLEYS OF BEETLE CREEK
You’ll be so glad they’re not your family!
DENNY, aged 7, traps rats on the bedroom
windowsill and does a nice little sideline in
blackmail.
DAD has a philosophical bent, steals the odd sheep, and scrounges for choice items at the garbage tip.
MUM judges the annual CWA scone-baking, protects her brood fiercely…handles herself well in a street-brawl, too.
LUCY, aged 12, is a spooky recluse, who
foretells the future of each family member.
MARCIE, aged 15, discovers lust in the dust and
and never looks back.
DAVO, aged 16, the Beetle Creek Casanova, is no stranger to hard yakka or sexual benevolence.
UNCLE WALLY – yeah, kids, stay well clear of him!
… and JACK is writing it all down.
EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER WHERE BOYS FIND THEIR SISTER'S DIARY:
The girls’ room had a wardrobe like ours. On top of the wardrobe, behind the decorated carved moulding at the front, was the hiding place for Marcie’s diary. Only Marcie knew where it was - and, of course, Denny and me. I can’t remember how we came to find it, because I had to stand on a chair and then a box to reach it. However, it was quite a find.
“It’s her diary,” I told Denny, awed at the prospect. “All her secret stuff is written in here.”
“Read it to me! Read it to me, aw, go on!” Denny begged.
“I can’t. It’s locked, see, and I’ll bet it’s that key Marcie keeps round her neck.”
Denny studied the lock on the diary thoughtfully. “Same sort of lock as on them wardrobes, only smaller. It’d be a cinch with a bent bobby pin. You watch.” He was a resourceful kid. He had it open in seconds. It was a wonderful example of teamwork: I couldn’t open the diary, and Denny couldn’t read it, but by working together, Marcie’s private life was an open book … literally.
Excerpt
Then there was the knothole in the outside wall of the bathroom. It was positioned just over the tub, so that, by a rather radical manoeuvre of the eyeball, someone kneeling outside could get a good overall view of the bather. Needless to say, it was Denny who discovered this, and Denny who first turned his entrepreneurial mind to the discovery.
I stumbled on him one day with a crowd of his mates, and some of mine too, lined up like patrons at a movie theatre box office. They had all paid threepence to view Marcie in the bathtub, and were astonishingly quiet.
“Shhh!” Denny cautioned me. “If she hears us, she’ll plug up the hole.” Apart from that, there was Dad’s consulting room to consider.
I could see that Denny had discovered a gold mine. He had already made two shillings, and you could buy an awful lot of licorice with that. I flew off down the road looking for clients I could divest of threepence, and came across three big boys, all about Davo’s age. It occurred to me, as they were working lads, they might be good for sixpence each.
“Who wants to see my sister Marcie stark naked in the bath tub? Only cost ya sixpence,” I said. It was a gratifying response: I was almost knocked down in the rush.
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