

January 7th:

The Day

Nobody

Was Born

John Callaghan

Copyright © 2018 John Callaghan

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ISBN-13: 978198325644

For my daughter Martha who set the ball rolling when she asked a most delightful question and to my son Adison who FIRST taught me the joy of fatherhood.

## Part 1 - A Boy Turns Eight

## Chapter 1 – Drive-by Drenching

If you had a million pounds to create _the_ perfect birthday party, what would you splash the cash on?

You might fritter a fraction of your fortune on a brilliant, balloon-filled venue stuffed with trays of gleaming desserts. Why not buy your own super-speed jet so you can fly the world's most delicious pizza directly from New York? Of course, you would just have to splosh the dosh on a chocolate fudge cake the size of a small island. And what is the point in even having a birthday unless you are guaranteed a lorry load of really thoughtful (and REALLLLLLY EXPENSIVE) gifts.

But how would you pass the time?

A funky, foam disco?

Pass the ridiculously over-wrapped parcel?

No way!

Wouldn't you just love to wow your friends with the wildest, most insane obstacle course ever designed - complete with impossible jumps, slime bombs and top prizes for whoever made it to the end. After all that, you might just have a few pennies left to ensure you travel to and from this perfect party in style; in a shiny, black limousine stuffed with iPads, PlayStations, ultra HD TV screens and enough sugary drinks and sweets to make a dentist scream.

Surely, if you had all that, your smile would be so wide you would definitely set a new world record for the widest grin in the galaxy. In fact, everybody else would probably have to give up celebrating their birthdays because you threw the party to end them all.

Believe it or not, one blue-eyed, scruffy-haired boy had all this and more.

As Will Stills was chauffeur-driven towards his own 8th birthday bonanza, he was sporting that record-breaking grin.

" _Super Soaker Double Drench Blaster!"_ the lucky boy screamed as he unwrapped the next gift in the back of the limo. He had so many presents to open, he just had to start ripping the wrapping before he even got to the party. There just wasn't enough time.

" _I've wanted one of those for ages."_ Bill Stills, Will's very excited father, raved, _"... I mean, I wanted it for you... of course. Why don't we fill it up, open up the sun roof and squirt everyone as we drive past?"_

Bill Stills was 34 years old but he was so fantastically excited, you would have thought it was he who had just turned eight.

" _Don't be so ridiculous!"_ pleaded Gill, the M.W.M. of the Stills family (Mother, Wife & Manager) as she pulled her brown pony-tail tighter. _"And anyway, we don't have any water."_ she added with a little ha-ha tone in her voice.

" _Awww! Mum's right."_ Will groaned as his shoulders slumped slightly.

" _Can't we use the bottled water from the fridge?"_ Bill suggested rather riskily.

" _Are you serious?_ " Gill scolded – annoyed that, yet again, she was the one having to say NO. _"It must cost £10 a bottle. You are not going to waste it in a water gun!"_

Bill was not listening. _"It is not water. It's drenchin' juice and I am ready to drench!"_ he boldly claimed as he emptied an entire bottle of the super-fancy water sourced from a volcanic island in Honolulu into the green, plastic canister attached to the super-charged water pistol.

" _I'm going up!"_ he announced as he pushed the sun roof button (and his luck!) while Gill flicked her eyebrows skyward.

Popping his rather large head through the rectangular hole in the roof, Bill kept on rising until all that was visible to those sitting below was a long, lean pair of legs and large, shiny belt buckle.

" _At least it's a bit quieter down here now."_ Gill snarked as Will smiled.

After furiously pumping up the pressure in his super soaker, Bill Stills took aim.

" _Good morning people of Earth! Which of you stinkypoos is ready for a shower?"_ he screamed into the wind around him.

First, he drenched two cyclists sporting so much fancy cycling gear they looked like they were training for the Tour de France. Though the female cyclist laughed and playfully squirted her water bottle back at Bill, her male companion wasn't quite so pleased. The sodden cyclist retaliated with a double V-sign that made him almost lose his balance while Bill giggled like a girl.

" _One hundred points!"_ the man child cried as he pumped his water pistol once more.

As the limo halted by a red light, Bill swivelled to his right and sprayed the pricey H2o all along the windows of a stationary school bus. The children on board thought it was so much fun they started kissing the windows, pretending to catch the water in their mouths. As the jet stream hit the glass in front of them, they all looked like mega thirsty fish.

" _IF YOU DO NOT SIT DOWN, YE WILL ALL BE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT WINDOW,"_ the grumpy bus driver screamed, bringing the fun fairground game to an end.

" _Eight hundred points!"_ Bill roared in triumph.

" _Dad! Dad! Can I've a go? Can I've a go?"_ Will shouted from below.

" _Yeah, of course, climb up. If you lean in to the side, you can balance on my knee."_ Bill instructed.

As he popped his head out of the sun roof and aimed the super-soaker at his first target, Will was no longer just an ordinary eight-year-old boy. He had been transformed into a highly trained sniper-soldier on a very important mission - _A MISSION TO DRENCH!_

While the limo zoomed onwards, Will soaked and squirted car after truck after car.

" _Double points for dirty cars!"_ the Super-Squirter decided because he could; it was his birthday after all.

Most squirtees just turned on their wind screen wipers and smiled but there were one or two who could not resist moaning and honking their horns until they disappeared into the distance.

Will was having too much fun to care.

" _Eighteen thousand points!"_ he wheezed as he took aim at a line of birds who chirped casually upon a telephone wire.

With all the random, imaginary points he had gained, Will had now built an unassailable lead. But there was one problem.

" _Dad, we are running low on drenchin' juice!"_

" _There's none left bud. That was it... two bottles. Unless..."_

Bill's right eyebrow jerked upwards as if it had a mind of its own...

"... _unless we fill it up with whatever's left in the fridge!"_ Bill craftily suggested.

" _But there's only fizzy orange and cola left!"_ Will replied, acting like the adult in this situation.

" _Don't you worry my boy!"_ Bill reassured. _"Once these two lethal fluids of cola and orange combine, they will bubble and mix to form a perfectly deadly concoction that the secret service call... CORANGE!"_ Bill raved as if he had lost his mind (though there was little evidence he ever had one to begin with.)

Tutting her tongue and rolling her eyes, Gill reluctantly handed up the bottles to the father and son sniper team. Though she whole-heartedly disapproved, she could not help but release a sliver of a smile.

Armed with a full tank of CORANGE, Will didn't even aim. He just squirted and sprayed anywhere and everywhere he could. He was laughing so hard and giggling so much while still trying to balance on his father's knee that he didn't realise what he had actually just done...

" _What are you playing at?"_ an angry voice screamed as the limo slowed by another red light.

A raging, seething little man with no hair and a black leather jacket was stomping towards the car, holding a very soggy cigarette in his dripping left hand.

Will had hit the bulls-eye: ONE MILLION POINTS! He had extinguished a cigarette... a flaming cigarette... while it was being smoked... and the smoker was not best pleased,

" _You can't do that!"_ the angry Leather Jacket screamed as Bill ducked down and dragged his son with him.

" _Go! Carlysle Go!"_ Bill demanded of the limo driver as the incensed smoker banged on the blackened glass with his open palm.

" _Eh... Mr. Stills – it's a red light and there is a truck stuck... it's blocking the junction..."_ the chauffeur patiently explained.

" _Please Carlysle – he's really angry – I don't think he likes CORANGE!"_ Bill spluttered, panic-breathed. _"Lock the doors! Lock the doors!"_

It was too late. Mr. Furious Face had opened the side door of the limo. He was ranting and raving and throwing his arms about like a crazed octopus. Carlysle was just about to jump from the driver's seat in order to protect the Stills family when the squabbling squid suddenly fell silent.

" _You're that boy."_ he gasped with a thunder struck expression.

" _You are... aren't you. You're that boy off the TV."_

He was pointing at Will.

" _You're that January 7_ th _baby!"_

## 

## Chapter 2 – That January 7th Baby

THE WAIT IS OVER!

January 7th Baby Finally Arrives

WORTH THE WAIT?

The January 7th Baby is Here but Why Now?

JANUARY 7th DELIVERS

Miracle Boy Wows the Whole World

BOY WONDER!

Will Stills Arrives on The Day Nobody Was Born

On average, 350,000 babies are born every single day.

Since 1962, 19 million 937 thousand 2 hundred and 17 babies have arrived on the 6th day of January while 19 million 943 thousand 6 hundred 94 tiny tots came squealing into Planet Earth on January 8th.

But during that same period, not a single baby arrived on January 7th.

For decades, this flummoxing fact went unnoticed and believe it or not, it was only a few years before Will was born that the American president first stumbled across this odd gap in the birthday calendar. Immediately, he speed-dialled all the other presidents and prime-ministers around the world and after a hasty records check, they all confirmed that he was correct.

For half a century, billions of babies were bouncing into this world on every single day except one \- January 7th.

News of this bizarre discovery had a flabbergasting effect.

Many began to worry. Most began to wonder.

" _Why is this happening?"_

" _Is it a sign?"_

" _Is this day being saved for someone special?"_

The longer it went on, the more bonkers this worrying and wondering became. Radio programmes invited anyone with a mouth to ring in and speculate why the seventh day of January had somehow stopped delivering babies.

" _I think the 7_ th _is being saved for someone extra special!"_ cried Catherine, 54, from Guernsey.

" _They will have massive wings and super laser vision!"_ hoped Joe (with his fingers and toes crossed), 10, from Bristol.

" _I know they will come and show us the way... how to be good again. I know... I've seen a sign."_ prayed Marjorie, 83, from Aberdeen (who was banned from driving ten years earlier because she could not see signs – especially on motorway junctions.)

" _I just hope they can kick a ball because our team can't score to save their lives and we need a new striker,"_ moaned Gordon, 37, from Suffolk.

Would you believe these were the more sensible suggestions? The less sensible (or criminally insane as you might call them) predicted that the January 7th baby would have three heads! Six eyes! No butt-crack! It seemed nobody could figure out why there was such a huge gap. _(Not the butt-crack, the fifty years.)_

All the big TV and radio stations became so obsessed with this strange story that ever since the president's discovery, they had a big, silly countdown to January 7th. It was treated like a national holiday; there was Christmas Day on December 25th, New Year's Day a week later and then seven days after that, the whole world cheered for... _THE DAY THAT NOBODY WAS BORN_.

Yet after five years of waiting and counting down and waiting some more, there was still no sign of the January 7th baby. Not a sniff! Not a whiff! By then, the last baby to be born on January 7th was a creaky, "old" man.

Two years before Will arrived, after yet another failed countdown – the world's biggest (and weirdest) media company, _VIEWYOU,_ had a reckless and rather dim light-bulb moment.

Transforming this baby-less day into a competition, they launched a multi-media campaign advertising a prize that everyone had to get their mucky paws on. Suddenly, airwaves and newsfeeds were flooded with a very special announcement,

" _January 7_ th _may have stopped delivering little bundles of joy but here at ViewYou, the joy never stops. We have_ _one_ _holiday of a life time to give away to the family of the first baby born on January 7_ th _. You will travel the world in your own private jet! Scuba dive in Santiago! Bathe in the Bahamas! Marvel at the magic of the Maldives! Wherever you desire, that is where you will go and with your own private jet, you can be home in time for tea. All you have to do is bring your baby into this world on January 7_ th _. What a birthday it will be! Terms and conditions apply."_

Even the faintest whiff of a sniff of getting their hands on this spectacular prize made everyone go loopy. Soon to be parents now _had_ to deliver their baby on that day and instead of letting things happen naturally, many resorted to cheating.

While their wives suffered through the most terrible labour pains, once caring husbands morphed into cold, cruel football coaches. Instead of holding their wives' hand and reassuring them that they were doing a " _great job_ ", they yelled, _"Push faster! Faster! Hurrrry!"_

One rotten scoundrel was splashed across newspaper front pages for demanding the opposite,

" _It's not time yet love! If you push now, she will be here too early. Leave it an hour and then push! Think about that private jet!"_

Though there were one or two near misses, yet another January 7th passed without the pitter patter of tiny feet. But ViewYou were not going to stop there. What they did next set everyone on a one-way trip to Crazy Town. On January 8th, a second special announcement looped around the world and just after the lunchtime news, a super-excited voice boomed through everyone's radios,

" _Nobody won the holiday of a lifetime but don't you worry! We at ViewYou love to give second chances and this year we have a prize that will make one lucky winner the envy of the Universe! The family of the first baby born on January 7_ th _will win a beautiful six-bedroom mansion with a swimming pool, an arcade, a mini-cinema, their own ice-cream maker and a colossal back garden, the size of a football pitch. And that is not all... the lucky family will also receive one hundred thousand pounds every year for life! Terms and conditions apply."_

A holiday of a life-time on your own jet was one thing but a mansion costing hundreds of thousands and your own ice cream every day for breakfast sprinkled with hundreds and thousands was bound to make everyone go super loopy.

As well as shouting at soon-to-be mothers to either push or stop pushing so hard, some soon-to-be fathers had now sunk so low, they resorted to bribing midwives by offering them _"£5,000 for life"_ if they would help them to either delay or speed up the miracle of child-birth.

Of course, this would never work. Midwives are very honest people and would never give in to such terrible tactics. Another rascal was rapped on the knuckles for trying to bully a doctor into changing the time of arrival on his daughter's official medical records.

This whole sorry affair was bringing out the worst in people. What should have been a day to remember was fast becoming THE DAY THAT EVERYONE SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF!

Despite yet another January 7th failing to cough up the goods, ViewYou decided to leave their competition open. This was just as well because twelve months later, one baby boy closed the curtains on all this madness.

Weighing 7lb 3oz, Will Stills arrived at three minutes past twelve in the early morning of January 7th to a happy and exhausted Gill and Bill Stills (Bill wasn't quite so shattered but he had found it all rather stressful.)

If it hadn't been for his rather large head, Will might well have been born on the 6th and the 57-year wait would have dragged on further. For generations, the Stills family were famous for their massive noggins so his bowling ball bonce was always going to slow things down. But Bill and Gill didn't just get a blue-eyed boy with an above average sized head, they also got a very large mansion and buckets full of dosh.

Bill was thrilled. He had never won anything in his life. In fact, until that moment, he thought he was the unluckiest person alive. Truth be told, his luck was so rotten, he was convinced that his old chemistry teacher, Mrs. Vutchkreft, had placed a curse on him after getting fed up with him never doing his homework. But in that very moment, with his son in his arms and the keys to a mansion in his back pocket, he had never felt happier, never felt luckier.

But yet again, Bill had failed to do his homework. Bill had failed to read the tiny terms and complex conditions.

Maybe Mrs. Vutchkreft had indeed cursed him.

The Stills family were only getting half a mansion.

## Chapter 3 – Going (Do)nuts!

After fifty-seven years, January 7th coughed up not one but two babies.

At 3.45am that night, on the opposite side of the country, Megan Drizzlecott was born to proud parents, Wilfred and Mildred.

Not only had marvellous Megan stolen Will's spotlight, she also pinched half his bedroom. One of the many terms and conditions stated that if two or more children were born on January 7th, the mansion would be evenly split between the victorious families.

A thirty-minute drive from the centre of town, through two imposing electric gates, down a long, winding laneway stands one huge house... with two front doors.

No. 7 and No. 1 Ruperts Road.

Rather oddly, there is no number two, three, four, five or six. In fact, there are no other houses for miles and what's more, it is not even a road. It's just a winding, gravelly lane with an impossibly colossal house at the end of it.

One man was to blame for all these oddities, the chairman of ViewYou: Mr. Benedict Ruperts. If this bonkers billionaire wasn't sending the entire world la-la with his January 7th competitions, he was busy dreaming up some of the worst TV shows ever created.

Seeing as Mr. Ruperts splurged a few million of his own savings on the mansion it led up to, he felt it was perfectly reasonable to name the "road" after himself.

So, the Drizzlecotts moved in next door to the Stills and nobody else was allowed in or out without clearance from two big bone-crushers: Scott and Tony. Day and night, these two burly bruisers take turns to patrol both sides of the twelve-foot red-brick wall.

When the Stills family first arrived at the front gate of their semi-detached prize, Bill was alarmed by these extreme defences,

" _Excuse me Mr. Ruperts but are these security measures really necessary?"_ he nervously inquired. Bill really hated confrontation and he was super-scared that he might lose even more of his prize if he appeared ungrateful.

" _The wall and security guards are for your protection... not least these two precious children. You are all superstars. Trust me! You are now far too famous to be living with normal people. You are too important. You will all be very safe here, I assure you."_ the mushy millionaire promised.

As nobody had ever used the words _Bill Stills_ and _SUPERSTAR_ in the same sentence before, from that moment on, Mr. Ruperts could do no wrong.

" _And that is why every January 7_ th _, we will have the biggest, most amazing party for Will and Megan... everything they could wish for, everything they desire ... no expense spared. The whole world must see these two diamonds grow up... see them sparkle."_ Mr. Ruperts revealed.

Back in the CORANGE stained limo, the leather jacket's fury was beginning to fade. He was no longer threatening to call the police but was now suggesting that the whole issue would "go away" if Will simply agreed to... sign his head. Yes – sign his bald head.

" _Please! Please! I really dig you man. I think you are so awesome. My boy... we hoped he would be born on January 7_ th but he came two days early. He was eight on Wednesday." the smoker of damp cigarettes rambled.

" _I am sorry but we really must be going!"_ Gill replied as she reached to close the limo door.

" _It's okay Mum, I'm happy to do it_." Will interrupted as he grabbed the sharpie the man was offering and scribbled a large W.S. and a smiley face  across the stranger's smooth skull.

" _Thanks so much. You really are a legend! I can't wait to watch the show tonight. My boy won't believe I've met you."_

He was still yapping away when Gill slid the limo door shut, just missing the tip of his nose.

" _Come on Carlysle. We have at least another hour before we reach the studio."_ Gill declared as she flopped back into her leather seat. "And you two! No more water guns!"

Though Bill sulked like a stroppy teenager, Will wasn't that fussed. His thoughts had now turned to other things: soft, round, sugary things.

" _How long 'til we eat party food?"_ wondered MR. FEED ME SUGAR. There were always a few snacks in the limo but after two hours, they had all been scoffed.

" _Shouldn't be long now bud_!" Bill replied, trying to calm his impatient son.

Though the Big Birthday Bash didn't kick off until 7pm, the Stills were required to arrive early in order to prepare for the show.

Just after 4pm, Carlysle and Co. glided through the large gates of ViewYou Studios where they were greeted by the very blond and very busy Tracey. The Tv producer was sporting a sharp suit, a serious scowl and brandishing an _"I'm so important!"_ clipboard.

" _You are late!"_ the scowl scolded as Carlysle whizzed around the limo to open the door for the birthday boy, _"Chill out Tracey. We had a thing with a fan and the traffic was bad. There's no drama, it's still plenty early."_ he coolly confirmed.

" _Well the Drizzlecotts have been here for at least an hour and you have already missed the production meeting. Now I am going to have to go over everything again."_ Tracey whined as she stamped off towards the studio, the click of her high heels making her sound super-stompy.

As the Stills family weaved through the long corridors that led to Studio 1, Tracey prattled on about the plan for that night's Big Bash. But the birthday boy wasn't listening. Will Still's sweet tooth had an in-built radar which was highly sensitive to any deliciousness hiding within a ten-mile radius.

Pushing through the revolving doors, Will hurried towards the green room, zooming straight past the fuss-pot producer. He knew that a treasure trove of sugared delights sat waiting upon the pre-party buffet table. Simply existing within the same postcode as this pageant of pleasures transformed Will's mouth into an ocean of drool. His teeth were chattering - raring to chomp through tonnes of terrific treats.

As he burst through the double doors of the green room, he was greeted by the most amazing sight...

Trays full of flabbergasting fudge cakes flew towards his eyes.

Sumptuous sausage rolls sang to him.

Gooey iced fingers waved him forward.

Marvellous mini-burgers pouted and winked until they were impossible to resist.

Everything else just sat there and smiled, confident that their time to be devoured would soon arrive: slices of piping hot pepperoni pizza (flown in from Joe's Pizzeria in New York City ;-), mountains of ridiculously red strawberries, bowls of green jelly babies (Megan's favourite) and an endless stream of fizzy pink lemonade.

Then came the crisps. The best crisps in the world! The crunch! The flavours! Will would not rest _until_ he had sampled them all.

Upon the very far end of the table sat little cubes of pale yellow cheese speared by tooth-picks. Will was never sure who they were for but they certainly were not tingling his taste buds.

" _I think they are for grown-ups or people who don't like happiness."_ he thought to himself as he slurped down another sausage roll.

In vain, Gill tried to prise her son's fingers from the table of treats while also straining to hear what the producers were trying to say. Gary (Tracey's assistant), with his stubbly chin and blindingly orange tie, was also struggling to explain "a few" changes to the format of that evening's _show_. But nobody could hear anything over the banging of plates and munching of crisps and Will was not the only one gobbling.

" _Bill, can you keep your hands off the food for just a second and listen to Gary? He is trying to tell us what's happening on tonight's show!"_ Gill pleaded though her husband's ears seemed to be as stuffed as his mouth.

Not a word was getting through to Bill or Will. Father and Son were on the hunt - on the hunt for a very specific treat.

Will had just snatched a sausage roll in each hand when his mother plucked him and his father away by their shirt collars. Briefly, Will tried to tune in to Gary's toneless frequency but as soon as he popped the first sausage roll in his gob, his right hand felt naked and empty and demanded to be refilled.

" _Mr. Ruperts has suggested some small changes to the format of tonight's show..."_ Gary spluttered as soon as Gill made eye contact.

" _Will, if you don't stop picking at that food, we are going to have to carry you out onto that stage. Leave it alone!"_ the party pooper pooped.

Had there been any space left in his mouth for words, Will may have cheekily replied but just then, his nostrils flared as they were filled with a most wondrous scent. Carrying a small tray in each hand, the heaven-sent head-chef waltzed through the double doors and slid a very special delivery inside the mini fridge at the end of the buffet table.

" _THEY HAVE ARRIVED!"_ Will announced as if the King and Queen of Norway had just walked in,

" _ICE CREAM DONUTS!"_ the little boy yelped. _"ICE CREAM DONUTS! ICE CREAM DONUTS!!"_ he proceeded to chant as if they were his favourite football team.

His sweet tooth now had a fresh target. That small silver fridge, the size of a giant's shoe box, was keeping the most amazing treat from his grasp. Unfortunately, some unkind person had plonked the fridge right at the back of the table and despite his best bunny hops, Will's little arms just could not reach.

" _Dad! Dad! Ice-cream donuts! Ice-cream donuts!!"_ Will squealed and bounced and pointed his sticky fingers.

" _They're coming, they're coming, hold your horses!"_ scolded Bill, trying to calm the impatient donut demon.

" _Will! No more than one! You will be sick!"_ warned Mrs. I Hate Happiness.

As Bill pulled the lever, the tiny door clicked open and a heavenly, white fog bellowed out to reveal the most amazing thing you could ever put in your mouth.

As soon as it was in his filthy paws, Will snapped his shuddering teeth into the crunchy, fruity icing; plunging into the soft, sugary dough before the best bit arrived; the cold kiss of the ice-cream tickling his tongue. The raspberry flavour flooded his mouth, blurring the whole world around him.

" _Yum! Absolute yum!"_ he grinned, his chin covered in white.

Rudely interrupting this magical moment between boy and donut, Tracey tried to help Gary finish explaining the new format for tonight's show but Will was lost in his own delicious dreamland. Turning his back on everyone, he went on slurping and sucking the ice cream from inside the dough \- dripping and drooling it everywhere. A distracted Bill and Gill followed their son everywhere he went, mopping up his messy trail.

" _So, are we happy with the changes?"_ Tracey asked in frustration, knowing she wasn't getting anywhere.

" _Yeah sure... we're happy."_ Gill agreed just to be polite.

If she had known then what she **had** actually agreed to, Gill Stills would be far from happy.

## Chapter 4 – The Big Bash!

It was almost 7pm... almost time for the Big Bash.

Around the world, millions of people were flocking to their TV sets, flopping in to their armchairs and collapsing on to their couches.

Hosted by the very oily and very animated, Simeon Bonaventure, the ninety minutes "extravaganza" was a truly global event. Millions watched. In Australia, they stayed up ridiculously late. In America they woke preposterously early.

Squeezed into a worryingly tight waistcoat, Simeon sported a slicked-back, greasy mane of hair that was soggier than a sweaty bag of chips.

" _Hello world and welcome to our BIG... BIRTHDAY.... BASHHHHHHH!"_ the presenter bellowed in his jumping-bean voice as he waltzed between two huge retracting doors. The large screen to his right was covered with a frighteningly large image of Will's smiling face while a massive, twinkly eyed Megan head filled the panel to his left.

As the crowd rumbled and roared, a flurry of glitter flickered around them.

The birthday "party" had begun.

Simeon was surrounded by an odd mix of mis-matching furniture and over-sized objects. On the far left of the stage, a scarily large 3D 07 had been planted into the ground while an equally imposing 01 stood proudly on the opposite end. In front of these giant numbers sat a blue couch (for the Stills) and a pink couch (for the Drizzlecotts) while perched in between was a tacky, golden throne (for the Oily Head.)

Standing before his throne, Simeon merrily announced, _"Tonight we say a huge, huge, huge happy 8_ th _birthday to our amazing Janu-babies, Will Stills and Megan Drizzlecott._

The studio began to quake and tremor as the hefty 07 began to separate... smoke billowed... drums rolled... and out strolled a stiff and blushing Will Stills followed by his parents who frantically waved and smiled at every available camera. Right on cue, the 01 also split apart and out popped a trio of jolly Drizzlecotts.

A deafening roar rose from the feverish crowd: feet stamped, hands clapped, mouths cheered. Simeon tried to say something but no one could hear him.

Megan looked dazzling in a green, flowery dress while a yellow hair band tamed her enviable brown curls. Will did not dazzle. He looked awkward and uncomfortable in a starched blue shirt while a _"silly red tie"_ (that his mother insisted on) looked like a neck-squeezing python.

As the families edged towards their colourful couches, Simeon slithered towards them aiming high fives at the Janu-babies. Megan hit the target but Will was too slow to notice and missed by a mile. The presenter must have just run his fingers through his hair because a wrinkle-mouthed Megan instantly wiped her hands on the back of her fancy costume.

" _Euughh, it's like shaking hands with a snotty nosed sea lion."_ she thought to herself.

For the first seven years, the Big Birthday Bash was exactly that – a bash, a party, a celebration; full of food and presents and singing and presents and laughing and presents. It really was gifts galore! Both families had always treasured it but Bash #8 was not going to be so precious. The bulging brains behind ViewYou studios were happy to organise and pay for the party but they were not going to all this trouble for nothing. They wanted something in return – something they had not yet received and they were beginning to grow quite impatient.

Traditionally, the Big Bash began with a quick interview with both families. Simeon would inquire about what everyone had been up to - anything new they had learned, any interesting places they might have visited or any embarrassing little incidents that may have occurred along the way.

When Will and Megan celebrated their first birthday, Simeon asked if they had yet spluttered their first words. Megan's mum, Mildred, proudly announced that her delightful daughter could already say " _Momma_ ", " _Dadda_ " and sing the opening line of " _I'm a little teapot_ ". As the twelve-month-old toddler showcased her routine with a lispy _"... short and stout",_ the millions watching instantly fell in love with marvellous Megan Drizzlecott.

Will wasn't quite so advanced. Gill fiddled nervously with her hazelnut hair as she admitted that her boy had so far only mastered one word - a quite bizarre first word. Rather optimistically, Simeon prodded his big, furry microphone towards Will's lips. The little boy sat silent and still, hungrily eyeballing the mic as if it was a tasty chocolate muffin. After some frantic encouragement from his mother, Will finally glanced up at Simeon, opened his mouth and blurted out, _"Chewbacca!*"_ Simeon could not conceal his delight as he fell about the couch laughing like a lunatic. Megan might be the clever one but Will could certainly make everyone smile. *He's the hairy walking carpet from Star Wars who sounds like a bear drowning.

This 8th party was different. Very different. Simeon seemed to no longer care how their year had been. As everyone perched themselves onto their assigned couches, Simeon promptly introduced a video clip on the large screen dangling above their heads,

" _Now... let's get started, shall we? Oh, it is so great to see you all again! It has been too long! This week, we sent our little squirrels out and about to see who their favourite Janu-baby was and HEEEERRRREEEEEE'S what they had to say!"_

Gill's eyebrows bounced up her forehead, _"Did he just say favourite Janu-baby?"_ she whispered heavily to her husband.

Indeed, he did. Random shoppers were being asked, _"Will or Megan? Who do you prefer?"_

Mama Stills was fuming – absolutely fuming. Shooting lethal, poisonous eyeball darts towards Gary, who stood off the side of the stage, she silently screamed, " _What on earth is this?"_ Even Simeon squirmed as the clip played. And just to make this awkward moment even more squirmtastic, the producers split the screen so everyone at home could observe the family's reactions as the first random person rambled about their favourite eight-year-old.

" _I love Megan, she is so adorable... and so clever. She was worth waiting nearly sixty years. Will, I'm not so sure. What can he do exactly?"_ spouted a middle-aged woman rather cruelly.

" _It has gotta be Megan. I always gotta know what she's up to. She is so cute... I wanna be her BFF."_ gushed one teenage girl while pouting her lips and flicking her hair extensions into the camera.

Membership at Club Megan seemed to be going through the roof but at least one person had something nice to say about Will. (Well, it started off nice.)

" _Will is the best! I watch the birthday bash every year on TV in the hope that he's going to poop his pants again. That is a TV classic."_ laughed Mr. Hysterical sporting a silly hat.

" _Oh no... not again."_ Will groaned as the images and sounds of the most mortifying moment of his short life filled every corner of his mind, _"... not the turd birthday."_

He really wished he could drain his brain of it.

Moments after blowing out the candles on his third birthday cake, Will unexpectedly filled his nappy. That's right. Will Stills shamefully stuffed his bum bandana... with the brown stuff... live on TV.

Even after five years, he could still remember pushing so hard, he almost stopped breathing. Digging his chubby, dribbly chin down into his chest and puffing out his big, rosy cheeks, he really gave it all his might. (Don't you remember how hard it is to get space between your nappy and your bottom? You have to give it some welly!)

Although poor Gill Stills did everything she could to side-track the spectators from the strained noises of her poop-popping son, the host of the show was all too aware. But Simeon felt an urge to shine a spotlight on the red-faced toddler sitting on his mother's lap,

" _Oops or should I say POOPS! I see young Will seems to be struggling with something there – I think he's about to deliver a special parcel of his own!"_ he chortled, theatrically throwing his head back while Gill and Bill turned radish red.

" _I hope it's not addressed to me_!" the presenter prattled on, really not helping.

Though mere millimetres from completion, three-year-old Will suddenly noticed that the audience were beginning to chuckle, some were even pointing. Big, bulging eye balls stared. All of them. All watching Will Stills do his business... live on TV.

After five years, Will really hoped that people might have forgotten about it, but thanks to Mr. Backwards Hat and a video on YouTube that had been watched 53 million times, everyone would again be talking about it and tweeting links to all their friends.

" _Ho! Ho! That was certainly a night to remember! Imagine – that was five years ago – hard to believe... hard to believe!"_ Simeon laughed. " _Well doesn't that just show you how special you two really are? Everyone is talking about you_! _Now... tonight we have some really big sur-prizes as we have two very special presents for our Janu-babies!"_

As Simeon spun around, the giant numbers began to open once more. From between the 07, a gift the size of a garden shed was wheeled out by swim-suited ladies with dazzlingly white teeth. Despite its size, the gift was perfectly wrapped in red paper and laced with green ribbon. While from behind the lofty 01, a significantly smaller present, roughly the size of a large suit-case, was rolled out. It was concealed by yellow paper and decorated with blue ribbon.

" _Now... in years gone by, we always gave you the same presents but now you are getting so big, we thought it was time for something different... one big sur-prize and one huge sur-prize! But who will win what? Join us after the break to find out!"_ Simeon boomed as he waved into the camera.

As soon as the lights faded and the cameras dropped, Simeon slunk into the oblivion of backstage without saying a word. (He needed to top up his hair oil). Bill and Gill looked to one another, their frowning eye brows jumping about like a pair of hairy synchronised swimmers.

" _What on earth was that about?"_ a perturbed Gill asked while her husband shrugged and rubbed the part of his chin where a beard should be. (For years, he'd done everything he could to grow a big manly beard but his baby face just couldn't do it.)

" _Gary and Tracey were trying to tell us something before the show_." he offered, hoping to ease his wife's simmering stare.

" _Well believe me, I am going to tell them something!"_ Gill seethed as she marched off to find the producers who were suddenly nowhere to be seen. Will was not bothered. He spent the entire ad break staring at that massive present, wondering what it was and how he was going to fit it in his bedroom.

After two minutes of Hide'n'Seek with Tracey and Gary, Gill had no choice but to return to the stage. The countdown had begun.

Simeon crawled out of whatever hole he had climbed into as the camera clicked 3... 2... 1, _"And welcome back to our January 7_ th _Birthday Bash! Now... to help us decide who wins what prize, we have come up with a fun challenge for you both. In fact, tonight we have two mini-challenges. And to help us keep track of who is in the lead, we have got a brand-new SCOREBOARD!"_ revealed the oily man as he twirled around and pointed upwards. There it was. A gigantic scoreboard the size of a spaceship (which had clearly been stolen from a basketball stadium) was being lowered down from the studio ceiling. It read, Will – 0, Megan – 0.

" _So, for each challenge you win, you get one point. The Janu-baby with the most points by the end of the show will win the super-duper sur-prize! In the case of a tie, there will be a sudden death, quick-fire round. Families! Are you ready for round one?"_ Simeon shouted as he pointed his fidgety fingers towards six people who had never been less ready in their lives. But with every camera staring at them, they had no choice but to nod and smile. They could hardly make a fuss on live TV.

" _Excellent!_ " Simeon hissed as the double doors opened to reveal a long, thin conveyor belt.

" _Challenge 1 is aaaaaaaaaa... MEMORY TEST! Will and Megan must take turns to sit behind the conveyor belt and watch ten random items crawl by. Whoever remembers the most items will win a point and get one step closer to that... gigantic gift! So... ARE... WE... READY???"_ Simeon screamed at his audience who were clearly ready. Ready to be sedated. They were all cheering and clapping like loonies - oddly excited about the prospect of watching eight-year olds compete for prizes.

" _As always... ladies first. Megan, can you join me over here and pop yourself up on that stool behind the conveyor belt please?_ " the presenter pretended to ask.

Everyone's favourite January 7th miracle skipped towards Simeon who promptly helped her up onto the wooden stool. Facing the audience, with the moving table in front of her, a determined look settled upon her face. She might have been three hours younger than Will but Megan was fully prepared for this moment.

As the rubber began to roll, a terribly tinny tune filled the ears of all who gazed on. From left to right, the random items trundled: rainbow coloured candles, a rosy cheeked doll, a TV remote with a squillion buttons, a boring mummy's magazine with diet tips, a framed picture of an adorable puppy, some DVD's, a bunch of blue flowers, a chocolate fudge cake, a hair dryer and a very famous children's book all trickled by. Will should have probably used Megan's turn to practise and prepare for his own attempt but he was too busy trying to sneak crisps from his mum's bag.

" _So, Megan... how many can you remember?_ " Simeon inquired after the last item disappeared behind the sliding door to her left.

" _Mmm... a dolly... some Barbie DVD's... blue flowers... a Matilda book... a frame with a picture of a puppy and... eh... and... eh..."_

" _Anything else?"_ Simeon interjected.

" _Eh... no, that was them all!"_ she insisted with a slightly misplaced confidence.

" _Well there were a few more items but you have done very well! Megan. You've scored five!"_ Simeon hollered as the birthday girl disgustedly sneered at the conveyor belt as if it was to blame. " _Not bad for a beginner but now it's over to Will. Can he match or even beat that?"_ Simeon wondered aloud, trying to keep this rather mean contest interesting.

" _Will... are you ready?"_ he bellowed across the studio even though he had a microphone inches from his lips.

Gulping down the crisp crumbs at the back of his throat, Will toddled towards Mr. Shiny Head. Refusing help, contender number 2 clambered up onto the stool unaided (Oops, sorry, must remember not say Number 2 around Will! He really hates those poop jokes.)

" _I can do it myself."_ he proudly declared.

Though he needed to remember at least five, Will was feeling fairly confident.

" _I have a super memory!"_ he announced to the world as the conveyor belt began to roll and the ghastly music returned.

While the audience chuckled at this very humble eight-year-old, a shiny, brand new laptop crawled past.

" _Check!_ _That's an easy one. Dad has a laptop and he lets me watch YouTube on it."_ Will rambled aloud.

It was all going so well... until... an ice-cream donut floated by. With its beautiful glaze glistening beneath the studio lights, Will was transfixed. Instinctively, he stretched out his arm towards it but his stool was too far from the conveyor belt.

In all honesty, after the donut, it could have been his Aunty Doris or a T-Rex or even Aunty Doris riding a T-Rex. Will genuinely had no idea who or what rolled past. All he could see and think of was that ice-cream treat.

" _Will... how many can you remember?"_ Simeon asked, waking Will from his glazed daze.

" _Ice-cream donut!"_ he excitedly blurted out.

" _One point. Anything else?"_ the presenter prodded further.

" _Eh?.... YouTube!"_ Will spluttered.

" _No, there was no YouTube Will, want another guess?"_ murmured Mr. Bonaventure.

" _Oh yeah... laptop!"_ he exclaimed, slowly retracing his thought-steps.

" _That is two points to Will, three more for a tie, four and you win."_ Simeon summarised.

" _Emmmmmmm... ice-cream donut!"_ Will offered again rather optimistically. He was sure there was more than one.

" _I'm afraid, you have already said that Will. We need any of the other eight items that passed by."_ prompted Simeon, pretending to help.

They really did pass him by. He did not have a clue. He looked to his parents for support while _ummming_ and _emmmming_ for as long as he could but all he could picture was that ice-cream donut, the laptop, more ice-cream donuts on top of a lap top and then darkness. Nothing.

" _Unfortunately, Will... you are out of time which means the first point goes toooooo.... MEGAN!"_ Simeon wheezed, sounding genuinely pleased for everyone's (and his) favourite Janu-baby.

With that, the score board again descended and a huge 1 replaced the 0 beneath Megan's name. Will was still a big, fat zero.

The neighbour from No. 1 was on her way to winning that humungous sur-prize.

As soon as Simeon introduced another ad break, Bill and Gill tried to breathe life back into their deflated son,

" _Not to worry bud. You will ace the next one."_

"It's only a game love. You will always be my champion."

Though Will felt sure he would win the next round, he dreaded to think he might disappoint his parents – especially his dad. Every night, for as long as Will could remember, Bill always half-spoke, half-sang the same line just before he clicked off his son's bedroom light,

" _You're the King and I'm the clown. I'll always build you up. I'll never let you down."_

Bill rarely ever completed his crooning as his sleepy-eyed son always interrupted and finished it for him.

Will now had to complete this challenge; losing to a girl, three hours younger than him was not on tonight's menu. Whatever the second course was going to be, he had to scoff it. He had to devour it. He had to win for Team Stills.

## Chapter 5 – Speedway Surprise

Big Bash #8 was back under way.

Smirking into the camera, Simeon informed the whole world what was happening next,

" _Well our Janu-babies have certainly had a fun and frantic 7_ th _year. Why don't we take a look at what our marvellous miracles have been up to?"_

As the big screen lit up, the gazing gazillions were treated to short clips of Will and Megan having fun around their cut in half house. Once a week, Tracey and a small crew of camera men invaded Ruperts Road for a few hours to record some of the revelry. As soon as the lights on the cameras turned green, Megan passionately unveiled her plans for world domination. Serious and straight faced, she stared down the camera and proclaimed,

" _When I am big, I will be president of the World. Not just London. Not just England. Not just America. The whole world! The naughty people will stop fighting and stealing and lying and being mean if there is one president. Not loads and loads of silly men trying to show who is the best with their silly arguing and stupid fighting. There will be just one president. Me!"_

Will didn't have any grand plans. In fact, the only time he ever thought about the future was when he wondered when the next episode of Star Wars might hit cinemas. His best bits involved him and his dad building Lego and messing around with light sabres. The audience howled as Bill Stills, hidden behind a Darth Vader mask, breathed heavily and hopped about as he evaded a frenzied attack from Jedi master, Will Stillswalker. For him, this was no play fight; it was a duel to the death.

" _I will never join the dark side! I am a Jedi!"_ Will screamed as he violently attacked his father with a glowing, green stick while spitting some very convincing zhum-zhum noises.

One of ViewYou's many terms and conditions meant the Janubabies were also obliged to make a number of public appearances. That year, they opened 8 new restaurants, 6 soft play centres, 5 new gyms, 4 playgrounds, 2 fast food outlets, a hospital and a hot-dog stand. The poor children had cramp in their thumbs from snipping so many coloured ribbons.

The highlights reel did not include every place they visited but the audience did get a glimpse of Will's favourite public appearance; being the official ribbon cutter at a new Lego Megastore in London. Being the guest of honour was a buzz but he got super-stroppy when his mother warned that they would soon have to go home; he would have happily lived there for the rest of his life.

" _I don't need to go home. I will live here and use the bricks to build my own bed_!" he insisted as Gill dragged him back to the waiting limo.

Megan much preferred their summer visit to Buckingham Palace to have lunch with the Queen. Not because she got to sip soup with royalty but because it gave her tonnes of ideas for how her palace would look when she became President of the World.

Once the highlights were done, Simeon promptly explained the second challenge of the night.

" _With Megan leading 1-0, Will needs this next point to have any chance of taking that gargantuan gift home. Now you two might only be eight but we think you are now old enough to drive!"_ Simeon announced rather mysteriously with yet another spinning-top twirl upon the stage.

Right on cue, the massive doors began to slide apart. Though they were super slow and extra dramatic like before, this time, they did not seem to be stopping. They kept rolling and rolling until they were almost the full width of the studio.

What a sight lay hidden behind them.

Will could not believe his eyes – an indoor figure of eight race track complete with an overlapping bridge and an underpass. _"Mario kart!"_ he squealed aloud before his mother promptly shushed him and the audience laughed.

" _Whoever completes three full laps around our Super-8 track will win that precious point! But if you are going to race, you are going to need... racing cars!"_ Simeon screamed as he twirled around once more (the man must have been permanently dizzy.)

As soon as they were summoned, two mini formula one cars whirled out of the ground, emerging from somewhere below the stage. The first car was black and red with a gold lightning strike painted down each side. As soon as he spotted it, Will's eyes lit up, _"That's my one."_ he whispered to his father as Bill nodded in agreement. The birthday boy would be in no hurry to claim the second car; it was a half-pink, half-yellow eye-sore with a neon-lit rainbow smeared across the bonnet.

" _But before you get your wheels... you are going to need some keys! Now I don't know where your parents keep their car keys at home but I always leave mine in a bath full of beans!"_ Simeon roared with laughter though the audience barely tittered. The gas bag clearly needed an oil change.

" _A bath full of what?"_ a wincing Megan blurted out, halting the hyena.

Bizarre! Bonkers! But true! Two giant baths brimming with baked beans rose from beneath the floor.

" _Once you have scooped your keys from the bathtub – hop in your hot-rod and get driving! But be warned – there might be a few birthday surprises along the way!"_ Simeon giggled as he handed each of the Janu-babies their crash helmets – a red one for Megan and a blue one for Will. As Will squeezed it on to his head, he was relieved that someone had remembered his extra-large skull.

" _On your marks!"_ Simeon screamed as Will pushed his left foot back and lowered into a crouch. _"...3... 2....1... GO!"_ the human traffic light blasted.

Cloaked in the audience's ear popping screams, the wacky races had begun. With a slightly longer leg span, Will breezed into a lead. Instinctively, he vaulted into the sea of beans as if he was a bathroom ninja. Scrambling around, his arms splashed frantically through the orange swamp.

" _Just keep going! Just keep going!"_ he thought to himself as a flare of panic lit within him. The heavy helmet was restricting his view and to make matters worse, his opponent had discovered a far simpler approach to bean bathing. Kneeling in front of the bath, Megan waved her arms through the bog of beans as if she had faced this strange challenge many times before. Rather cleverly, she also aimed most of her grasping around the plug hole, remembering that all baths were sloped downwards to help ease the water out. While Will sloshed around like a pig with an itch, Megan was already firing up the engine of her favourite racer.

" _I thought I had to get in the bath!"_ Will sobbed as he squished billions of beans between his frantic finger tips. _"Where are the keys? WHERE ARE THE KEYS?"_

By the time he had finally hooked his thumb through the key ring, Megan had already gained a massive head start. And to his total disbelief – she had also hijacked his lightning bolt racer.

" _Could this be any more embarrassing?"_ the bean-covered boy groaned as he jumped into the rainbow racer. Much to his relief, his crash helmet hid his humiliation.

Megan had already rocketed around the first bend and was heading through the tunnel when Will finally kicked his right foot down upon the pedal. As the engine roared like an angry lawn mower, the car instantly jerked forward and he was off. Thanks to years of racing his Dad in Mario Kart, Will was confident he could reduce his opponent's advantage.

" _If I cut the corners, I can cut down her lead!"_

Thanks to Mario, Yoshi and Princess Peach, Will knew how take the corner without using his brakes and slowing his kart. As he flew out of the mid-section tunnel, he suddenly jerked his rubber-rimmed steering wheel to the left and threw his body weight in the opposite direction. Strangling the steering wheel to the right, the kart drifted perfectly around the bend like a hockey-puck on ice.

Despite her sizeable head-start, Megan's lead was shrinking fast. As Will zoomed up the ramp and across the bridge that covered the tunnel below, he finally tuned in to just how much fun he was having. The helmet may have contained his over-sized head, but nothing could contain the fifty-mile smile stretched across his face.

" _No way I'm losing this!"_ he confidently predicted as he rounded the final bend with another expert drift. As he crossed the line to complete lap 1 – there were only a few short metres between him and the racer from No. 1.

" _TWO LAPS LEFT!"_ the presenter cried in his tipsy, cartoon tone.

Many hours of video games had helped steer Will through lap one but lap two was going to be just as tricky. As a loud claxon startled the transfixed audience, a waterfall of white foam spilled from the roof of the underpass. As if a giant can of shaving foam had been violently shaken, a spume of frothy white clouds sprayed all over the track - covering the children and their cars.

" _We can't have a birthday cake without icing_!" Simeon belched as the audience now realised why the race track was shaped like an eight.

" _I'm already covered in beans - what difference can a few bubbles make?"_ Will consoled himself without realising just how much trouble the slippery suds were about to create. Though he was now only inches from catching Megan, drifting and skidding was going to be a lot trickier than before.

As he tugged the steering wheel left, Will's back wheels spun out and his kart whirled round faster than a fidget spinner. The audience gasped as the dizzy cart came to an abrupt stop - facing the wrong direction.

Megan was back in pole position.

Thumping the steering wheel with his fist, Will shunted his body forward, trying to turn the racer back around. His speedy neighbour was already over the bridge and racing into the final turn when he finally got himself straight. He was so close to surrendering and hurling his helmet into the ground in frustration but he would not give up. He had enjoyed enough last-gasp, on-the-line victories against his father to know it was not over until the fat plumber sang.

With a super-swift stomp of his foot, his cart roared towards the bridge. His anger and frustration seemed to make the engine go quicker than before. As he dashed towards the crest of the bridge, he was going so fast, the wheels actually lifted clean off the track before bouncing down a split second later.

Much to Will's relief, the foamy froth had cleared from his cart by the time he whipped his steering wheel to the right and slipped the rainbow racer around the corner with ease. The roar of his engine ripped through the studio as he steadied it in to the straight and flew towards the line.

" _LAST LAP!"_ Simeon screamed for those who could not count back from three.

As Will crossed the line, he glanced up to see how far he was behind but it was not Megan who caught his eye. From out of nowhere, a colossal, white pillar sprung up out of the ground like a snow-covered sky-scraper. Though Will had enough time to steer around this surprise obstruction, Megan smashed straight into it.

" _You can't have a birthday cake without candles!"_ Simeon announced with little concern for the rattled crash victim.

Thankfully, the Big Bash producers were kind enough to cover these pink-striped pillars with soft padding. Little Miss Drizzlecott was dazed but she was not about to wave the white flag.

Will gurgled a little _"Ha! Ha!"_ at the back of his throat as he whizzed past Megan, zoomed through the tunnel and grabbed the lead he craved for the very first time. But his joy and his advantage were short lived as a second flame-topped tower shot up out of the ground – directly blocking his path. The monstrous stick of wax flew up so fast, even a cat with a black-belt would not have had the reflexes to dodge it.

Both children shook the shock from their brains as they frantically tried to turn their banged-up karts around. With less than a lap to go, no one in the audience or watching at home could have picked a winner.

" _If those are candles and this is a cake – there will be at least six more."_ Will thought to himself as he steered his front wheels straight. _"And if the first one was to the left and the second one was to the right then I know where the next one will be!"_

Both engines snarled as the race resumed. Though the Janu-babies now fully expected the monstrous, sparkling obstacles, they couldn't exactly predict where they might emerge. As Will drifted around the first corner and narrowly avoided the third candle, he edged into a narrow lead. But Megan seemed to be in no rush to catch him up.

" _If I stay a little behind, it will be him who crashes into the candles!"_ she cleverly reasoned while easing her foot from the pedal.

" _Candle Three to the left..."_ Will reported to the imaginary racing team in his head _"... so candle four Will be to the right..."_

Will was right. As he skidded around the bend, he pulled the steering wheel as far to the left as it could possibly go. Even then, he still clipped the side of the emerging high-rise. Though it jolted him slightly, it had not slowed him down or knocked him off course.

As the racers roared across the bridge for the final time, they knew that four concealed road blocks were waiting to bar them from that finish line and deny them that precious point.

" _Candle five to the left!"_ Will reported as he spun his steering wheel just enough to the right to miss the next candle by inches. As if the two cars were connected, Megan was right on his tail but Will was not panicking.

" _There is was no way she can pass me so long as I keep blocking her path."_ he assumed as he locked the steering wheel to the right and swung his body to the left, rocketing around the corner and missing candle six by some distance. Super Will Stills was mastering this track.

As both racers cleared the last bend, it was now a head-to-head race to the finish line and Will had the slenderest of leads.

" _Candle seven to the left"_ Will informed no one as he kicked his foot upon the pedal with everything he had left. He was going so fast, the last few baked beans lost their grip and flew from him like finger-flicked flies. Veering right, he eluded the second last candle before immediately pulling to the left. He was so sure that the only thing between him and victory was the ticking of time. The checker flag was in his sights and he knew it would soon be waving above his victorious head.

But candle eight did not emerge to his right.

To the complete amazement of almost everyone – the last wax stick sprouted from the dead centre of the track. By the time Will spotted it, it was too late. All he could do was spring his foot from the pedal and brace himself for impact.

Cart met candle. Candle met cart. Will met defeat with a sickening thump and the audience gasped as the boy and his rainbow racer bounced around the track.

Just a few feet behind, Megan coolly swerved to her right and zipped across the finish line. As the checker flag flew above her head, half the audience roared and Simeon rather pointlessly announced the winner.

A deep sigh fogged up the inside of Will's crash helmet as the corners of his eyes began to moisten. Climbing out of his badly bruised car, he limped towards the finish line.

" _How could I get that close and still lose?"_ he wondered as he stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Though he knew there was real cake and candles to come, he just wanted to dash from the stage, grab his parents' hands and go home – escaping the 20 million stares and the fake _"hard luck"_ that Simeon was preparing to spew.

But he didn't. Instead, he grabbed Megan by the hand and congratulated her with a hearty handshake,

" _Well done Megan, that was a great race and you really deserved to win!"_

Whether it was deserved or not, it didn't matter. Megan had the points - two big, fat, glorious points. And the Lord Mayor of Loser Town had none. Nada! Nothing! Zip! As if Will needed reminding, the colossal scoreboard descended once more – deepening the doom of the defeated. Oh, how he hated the sight of that thing – Will – 0, Megan – 2.

On Simeon's beckoning, the presents were rolled out. Massive one for Will. Mega-Massive one for Megan. Upon being invited to open his first, the birthday boy released some of his rage - slashing at the wrapping paper, snatching at the ribbon. And out popped... a mini trampoline. The small silver circle had just enough taut rubber for one. Just enough space for one solitary bouncer to boing the days away. By this point, some people half expected Will to burst into tears but he didn't. He just smiled. He was actually pretty chuffed with it – he had never had a trampoline of his own.

Well, he was chuffed... but only for the twenty seconds it took Megan to open her present. Marvellous Meg, with her perfect memory and God-given swerving abilities, reached up and delicately pinched the green ribbon. As it gently unravelled, the four sides of the huge box collapsed backwards to reveal... **nothing!** Nada! Zip!

For a split-second, the very worst part of Will thought " _HA! HA! TRICK PRESENT_!" From the darker corners of his brain, a thought bubble formed, screaming _, "Ah-ha! You've been fooled! I win!"_

But of course, Megan had not been fooled. All of a sudden, the sliding doors zoomed back once more to reveal a mammoth, pink, bouncy castle. A bouncy palace. A palace of bounce - as if three regular sized bouncy castles had been stitched together with archways linking them together.

Megan's little legs seemed to double in length as she giddily loped towards it. Squealing with delight, she leaped into it with her shoes still fastened to her feet. Girly giggles filled the studio as she bounded from one side to the next like a crazed pony who had swallowed one too many sugar lumps. The rubber walls sprung her back through the air, catapulting her from one side to the next. Abandoning his post, Simeon promptly joined her, racing her from side to side. Standing, laughing and clapping, the audience were wowed by this perfect TV moment. Somewhere backstage, Mr. Benedict Ruperts was rubbing his greedy hands together, watching the advertising money roll in.

But one little boy felt very alone. Although the 20 million viewers likely expected Will to hop up and join them, the gutted child hid behind his father's hip. Swivelling his head back and forth between his mini-trampoline for one and his neighbour's pink palace, a large grape-like lump formed in his throat. The tears were on their way and this time, he didn't feel like he could fight them back. In that moment, if anyone had even looked at him in a sympathetic way, the crest-fallen eight-year-old would have flooded the studio.

Fortunately, before the tears came tumbling, the biggest birthday cake you have ever seen in your life emerged from a panel in the front of the stage. Eight layers of creamy, sugary joy shaped in circles of different sizes: chocolate, fudge, raspberry, strawberry, rocky-road, spicy ginger, mixed fruit, lemon and if that wasn't enough, this king of cakes was topped with a row of ice-cream donuts.

" _Surely half that cake is mine."_ he thought to himself as he briefly considered clambering up the cake to fetch his beloved treat.

After they eventually tempted Megan away from her busy bouncing, both she and Will stood either side of the leaning Tower of Yum. As the mouths of the Janu-babies watered, every one of the three hundred and sixty people sitting in the audience sprang out of their seats and led by Simeon, began to sing. It wasn't quite the Happy Birthday song you know. ViewYou do most things in a very peculiar way and their version of the classic birthday ditty is also slightly different...

" _Happy birthday to you,_

You're the only two

_Born on January 7_ th

There's no one like you!"

Amidst a frantic storm of glitter and clapping, Will and Megan pushed out their lips and blew the flame from the eight (regular-sized) candles standing before them. As soon as they were extinguished, Simeon brought the Big Bash to a close,

" _Thank you all for helping us wish a happy 8_ th _birthday to our Janu-babies, Megan and Will. See you all again next January 7th for our 9th Big Birthday Bash!"_

In that moment, as Mr. Slippery Fingers rambled, Will thought to himself,

" _I hope I'm going to be eight for a very long time."_

## Chapter 6 – Car Park Elves

After an evening to forget, the Stills family faced a punishing three-hour drive home. At least Carlysle was ready and waiting with the limo engine running and the snacks topped up.

Though he managed to get his sticky mitts on one last ice-cream donut, Will was feeling very down in the dumps. With only a few hours remaining, he was relieved his birthday would soon be over. But as Carlysle reached for the silver door handle, Will's tired eyes burst open,

" _My trampoline! My trampoline!"_ his little voice bounced around the dark and quiet car park,

Will had left the mini boing-boing machine right where he had unwrapped it but before anyone could volunteer to fetch it, Gary ran towards the limo shouting, _"Wait! Wait"_.

" _Ask him."_ Gill whispered, nudging her husband as Gary helped Carlysle squeeze the bounce-o-line into the boot of the limo.

" _Not tonight, I'll ring him in the morning_." Bill muttered under his breath before turning the volume up. _"Thanks very much Gary, he was just wondering where he'd left it."_

Snarling daggers zinged Bill's way as Gill wished she had proper laser vision. Though she loved her husband dearly, she really wished he would grow a back bone. Bill hated confrontation and always went to great lengths to avoid awkward situations of any kind.

" _Let's just get this man home. Look at him, he's shattered!"_ Mr. Spineless pleaded as he pointed his open palm in the direction of the very sleepy piece of evidence that proved his point. As Carlysle finally swung the limo door open, Will spotted a very large and very shiny present sitting upon his seat. It was staring at him as if it had been waiting patiently for him all evening.

" _Who's that for?"_ Will squealed, already having a fair idea.

" _I don't know... nothing to do with me... must have been the car park elves."_ Bill chirped in the worst fake " _honest_ " voice you ever heard in your life. He was a terrible actor and an even worse liar.

" _Was it you Carlysle?"_ Will asked.

" _No way Squirt! Would never get something that big for a toe-rag like you."_ Carlysle replied with a smirk.

Vaulting into the back seat, the suddenly revived boy ripped the wrapping to shreds before his mum and dad could even climb in behind him. Flickers of silver floated all around the black, leather interior.

One of Will's favourite things in the world, other than ice-cream donuts and Star Wars and Lego and Star Wars Lego was a surprise present. Rather conveniently, his father was THE best in the world at delivering them. Just at the right time. Just when he thought his birthday was over, there would be a little pressie under his pillow or just when he thought Christmas day was done for another year, he would find a last-minute surprise waiting beneath the tree. It was never Bill of course. His father always blamed some sort of elf or fairy.

" _Lego Millennium Falcon!"_ Will screamed loud enough to make a hundred car alarms cry.

" _No way!"_ Bill boomed back, still faking terribly. _"That's like the second-best Lego set ever! You are_ SO _lucky."_ he went on, extending his big game of pretend for far, far too long. (The original Lego Death Star is the number 1 Lego set btw)

" _Mummy, can we swap seats so I can sit over there with Will and start building it?"_ Bill asked in a bizarre and childish tone.

" _Don't be ridiculous, you have got nothing to do for the next few days only build that thing, there is no rush. Carlysle, can we please get out of here?"_ Gill begged, growing rather frustrated and anxious to get home.

For the entire three-hour journey, Will cradled the big box of Lego as if it was a new-born baby sister. His unblinking eyes sucked the awesome images right out of the shiny cardboard. Flipping it from front to back, he rubbed the smooth surface and imagined what it would be like to open it – to sort through the pieces and start building it with the big car park elf that was his dad.

As they drove through that cold, January night, little thoughts crept into the back of Will's mind, disturbing his woozy happiness: the silly challenges, the conveyor belt, that huge score-board, the bean bath, the rainbow racer, the giant candles and that trampoline for one. As they haunted him, teased him and hissed at him, he pulled the Lego box tighter. Thanks to his dad - these thoughts did not linger for long.

Bill Stills had rescued his son's birthday from being a complete disaster with the perfect present at the perfect time.

Though yet unaware, Bill would need to deliver a lot more surprise presents in the years to come.

## Chapter 7 – Please Be Upstanding for Lord Ruperts

Lord is not an actual Lord.

_Lord_ is actually the preposterous name his father lumbered him with so he could hear how it sounded in front of his own name... _Lord Benedict Ruperts_ – for that was this boy's full title.

His father, Benedict Ruperts, did not just own the world's biggest media company, he also possessed the world's largest ego. Much like the lane that led to Will and Megan's half mansions, he hijacked his son's name to make himself sound very, very important.

Champagne and congratulations were flowing at the after-show party at ViewYou studios.

Whatever scraps Will had failed to devour were now being waltzed around on sparkling, silver trays. Sharply dressed guests were falling over one another to congratulate Benedict Ruperts, pumping his arm and praising him for producing " _yet another evening of terrific TV."_

It would be tomorrow afternoon before the official viewing figures were in but Mr. Ruperts was feeling very confident that the new Will vs. Megan format had stopped the slump and recalled the missing millions who had grown bored of version 1.0 of the Big Bash.

Requesting a quiet word with his father, a frustrated Lord Ruperts was seeking something the silver trays could not provide.

" _You see father, I told you it would work!"_ the teenage boy declared in a biting tone, following his father into his office.

" _What are you talking about?"_ Benedict bit back, sucking half eaten pastry from his teeth.

" _Well it was me who suggested Will vs. Megan, and I'm just saying, didn't it go well?"_ Lord repeated, fishing for the slippery praise he was unlikely to catch.

" _Don't get carried away boy. Yes, you suggested it but don't forget it was me who made it work, not you! I recommend waiting for the ratings before you start building statues of yourself_." Benedict scolded before turning away from his son, keen to return to the gushing hand pumpers. But Lord was not done yet.

" _Oh wow! Well done you for making it work!"_ Lord snapped back in a bold but slightly wobbly tone. _"That's what Gary, Tracey and the rest of the production team do – make it work. It's the idea that's the hard part and it was MY idea!"_ squealed the heir to the ViewYou throne, even wobblier than before.

Without reply, Benedict Ruperts calmly strolled behind his desk and lowered himself into his plush leather chair. From his throne, the king stared down the petulant prince. Tightly gripping his super smooth mahogany desk, he pushed his bushy, grey eyebrows up his forehead but remained stubbornly silent.

The school boy was squirming.

Interlinking his bony fingers, Benedict allowed a few more serious and silent seconds trickle by before adding sound to this unnerving death stare,

" _You are a thirteen-year-old boy. One good idea and you think you deserve a ticker tape parade. Yes, maybe one day, you will sit in this chair but that day is many years away. And until then, it's mine!"_ he snapped before standing up to deliver the final words on the matter _. "Any success achieved by_ _my_ _company is down to_ _me_ _and_ _me_ _alone. Now if you don't mind, I would jolly well like to get back to_ _my_ _party and enjoy this moment."_ he yelped as he shot up, his leather chair wheeling away before clinking the large glass window behind him _. "My driver will take you home. It is clearly past your bed time. You always get hysterical when you're tired."_ he insisted while thundering out of his office, leaving the glass door and heir to the throne shuddering behind him.

Though shaken, Lord was not about to sit around and grow pale in his father's shadow. He had no intention of twiddling his thumbs until his inheritance rolled in. Lord knew he was the brains behind Big Bash 2.0 and that was just the start; he had big, big plans for Will Stills and Megan Drizzlecott.

Clearing his throat, he tried to cough out the quiver within him but he was still hopping mad. As he departed the glass walled office, he penned an angry letter, a very angry letter – in his head. He did this - a lot. Hundreds of invisible angry letters were filed away in the drawers of his brain. Pages filled with all the things he would really love to say, all the points he really needed to make. Of course, he never would... but they did help calm his nerves. In his latest letter, he furiously mind-scribbled,

" _I might be only 13 but I've had more great ideas in 13 years than you've had in your whole life! I have hopped through every possible hoop to impress you and all I get in return is that mopey look of disappointment that is forever stapled to your face. Is it actually possible for you to be pleased? For you to admit what I can do, to accept that I am capable of one day taking over the company, that ViewYou will be in safe hands with me in charge. Just look at the difference I made tonight! I've saved the Big Bash! 50 million tuned into the first party. It was a huge hit. But then you let it get stale – six more years of the same thing – you did not tweak it, add to it, build on its success. You just repeated the same thing over and over again – gifts and surprises and loving hugs. And what happens? The audience got bored. They drifted away. And who comes to the rescue? Who saves the day? Me! I've pulled them back in. My Will vs. Megan challenges have brought them all back! And do I get a well done? No! Instead you send me to my room? Banished to the back of the house like a dog? Imagine that, thirteen years old and a brain bursting with genius ideas and I get sent to my room! What next? The naughty step?"_

Lord was angry but Lord was right. His father could count all the great ideas he'd had in his life on one hand (and even that's only true if that hand was missing four fingers.) Rather deviously, Benedict Ruperts surrounded himself with the biggest brains he knew. As soon as they fed him an idea, he would shake his head and say, " _Nope – would never work."_ But if you were really watching and Lord Ruperts was always watching, you could see exactly what the chairman was up to.

It was never long before Mr. I've Just Had A Brilliant Thought would repackage one of the Big Brain's ideas and present it as his own. Even then, he only took credit for that brainwave if it worked. If it did not, as was often the case, he would point his big, bony finger of blame at one of the poor, powerless Big Brains and spit,

" _You! That was your idea! And it was twaddle, absolute hog-wash! You are fired!"_

You could bet your granny's pearl necklace that if Lord had not been his son, Benedict Ruperts would have sacked him a long time ago.

This brainwave beggar was twenty-three when his father, Rupert Ruperts, shuffled off his swivel chair and left him the keys to ViewYou. For Benedict, it was a momentous, long awaited day and ever since, he has been completely committed to reducing the company to rubble.

His first move was to introduce a new and utterly ridiculous company slogan – _"VIEWYOU! First! First! First! Exclusive! Exclusive! Exclusive!"_

Under this terrible tag line, he dreamed up some of the ghastliest programmes in the history of television. These optical abominations have to be seen to be believed... although be warned, they may make your eyes bleed. In order to save your peepers, here is a whistle stop tour through some of the worst.

_Brum! Brum! Beep! Beep! Boom!_ – Complete strangers race full sized remote-control cars against one another. The last car to cross the finish line then explodes! Yip! Really! Explodes!

_Stars on the Moon_ – This reality TV show was the most expensive programme ever produced. Ten celebrities were sent to the moon to live together in an inescapable bubble dome for a month. Well it should have been a month but very quickly this TV calamity became known as Scars on the Moon. After two days, the Z-list celebs were ready to kill each other and had to be rocketed back home. Two had to be separated and put in their own private rockets! Millions and millions and millions wasted.

_Man Vs. Beast_ – Crazy attention seekers volunteered to take on animals in various challenges – a man challenged his dog to a sausage eating competition and lost. An Olympic sprinter challenged a lion to a hundred metre sprint and lost (her right foot), a zoo keeper arm wrestled a gorilla and won. (a six- month holiday in hospital)

_World's Best Bear_ **d** – do you really need an explanation? And no, it didn't grow on people! It was truly terrible!

_Alien Hunting Live –_ Yip, you read that right. Says it all really and believe it or not, not a single alien was ever found. Although one team of "hunters" did spend a night in jail for breaking in to The White House.

Not one of these shows lasted longer than two episodes and every one of them lost the company a colossal amount of cash. Would you believe not a single person tuned in to watch the second episode of _Brum! Brum! Beep! Beep! Boom_!? It is actually in the Book of World Records as the least watched show in the history of television.

Anyone and everyone tried to warn the chairman about these wretched programmes but would he listen? Of course not. He never listened. And he really should have because the second episode of _Man. Vs Beast_ was a complete catastrophe _._ It caused a world-wide scandal after a black panther broke free of its cage and caused pandemonium as it viciously chased screaming audience members around the studio. ViewYou had to pay out millions in compensation and came very close to bankruptcy as a result.

With the future of ViewYou at stake, Benedict Ruperts needed something to save the company his father had worked so hard to build. Just as he thought he was right out of luck, the President of America revealed the strange truth about January 7th...

As the president spoke, Benedict encountered the one and only good idea he ever had in his entire life... and in that moment, The Day Nobody Was Born was eh... born.

## Chapter 8– A Very Loud Alarm

Will Stills dreamt of tornados.

Every night.

Every night, the cyclone came, twisting through the air, sucking Will, the house and everyone he loved up into its wild winds. Though he knew it was a dream, it still seemed so real and so violent. The howling gusts whipped his ears, the fork lightning flashed across his eyes, every crack of thunder rumbled through his bones.

The debris of his life - all his memories and fears - spiralled around him. It was so utterly terrifying that it woke him every single night with a start. Sometimes twice.

He could not understand it, he had never actually been in a storm and the thought of one never really scared him while he was awake. But the dream was so vivid and the feelings were so strong that they troubled him deeply.

The morning after his eighth birthday, the cyclone spun him awake once more. But as his eyes shot open, he got an altogether different type of fright.

He had been zombified!

With his back flat against his mattress, he woke to find his arms stretched upright in the air. They were stiff and cold and would not bend at the elbows.

" _I'm a zombie!"_ Will shrieked as he shot upright in his bed, his arms still jutting out before him as if ready to carry a very large tray.

Just to add an extra pinch of mayhem to this manic morning, as soon as Will tried to climb out of bed, he tripped across an unexpected object and stumbled awkwardly across his room. Luckily, he just about escaped kissing the carpet as his stubborn stick arms saved his face from the floor.

" _What the...?"_ Will wondered as he spun his head around to spy the unforeseen trip hazard.

By the time Carlysle reached Ruperts Road that previous night, it was well past midnight and Will was snoring soundly upon his Lego box pillow. Quietly and carefully, Bill tried to prise the slobbering snorer from his leather seat without waking him but as soon as Will felt the box slip from his fingers, he sprang awake and scooped it back up again.

" _My box... that's my box... get your own box..."_ the little sleep-talker mumbled as his parents failed to suppress a giggle.

" _I think he's taking that to bed tonight."_ Bill whispered to his wife as they finally reached the front door.

" _He'll probably start building it in his sleep too."_ Gill replied softly, resisting another giggle that tickled the back of her throat.

But the following morning, it was not just the Millennium Falcon slipping from his grasp that woke Will. He was also stirred by the sound of raised voices.

Gill was shouting.

Having never heard his mum bellow before, it actually took Will a couple of sleepy-eyed seconds to figure out who it was. For one tummy-churning moment, he feared she might be in trouble,

" _It's a burglar! They've come to steal the falcon!"_ the wally worried.

But as the roaring got rowdier, Will could tell it was not a Lego loving bandit who was the target of her screams.

Gill was yelling at Bill.

With his un-socked foot, Will toed the big box of Lego out of his way in order to kneel down on the floor. Pushing his left ear into the soft carpet, he got closer to the drama.

" _We have to get out of here!_ " Gill raged as she emptied the dishwasher in a temper. She was banging the crockery about so brutally, you would think the side plates were running ViewYou studios. _"We have to! We ca not let him go through all that again. He's only eight Bill. Eight! And they are making him jump through hoops on live TV. That is not what we signed up for."_

" _But we can't give up on the house... where would we go?"_ Bill protested, petrified that if they gave up on the half-mansion, he would have to return to the day-job he detested.

" _I know we'd have to buy a place of our own... but why are they doing this? We have had seven years of nice, simple celebrations and then, out of nowhere, they make our boy look a fool."_ Gill seethed as she assaulted the cutlery drawer like a drunken knife thrower.

" _I know. You don't have to convince me. I was there..."_ Bill agreed in a calm voice in the hope of soothing his wife's nerves and saving the delicate dishes.

It did not work.

"... _what do you know? Please tell me what you know! Why are they doing this?"_ the bubbling pot was about to boil over.

" _It's just entertainment love. It's a TV show, that's all_." Bill offered with a shrug – sure that this simple truth would calm the crockery crasher.

It did not.

" _That was not entertainment! And how dare they think they can use my son for entertainment! I won't stand for it! They are up to something – I can feel it."_ Gill screeched as she walloped a stack of blue plates into the cupboard. _"What I don't understand is why are they suddenly doing memory games and cart racing? That track was dangerous! Lewis Hamilton would have struggled to swerve around those giant... giant..."_

Gill was in such a state, she had lost control of her thoughts. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she hung her head and sighed.

" _They have looked after us from the moment Will was born and they have asked for very little in return."_ Bill finally added. _"A few public appearances and a party on Tv. All Mr. Ruperts wants to do is show the world how special Will and Megan are."_

Gill didn't respond but her eyes suddenly widened. Something was stirring behind them. _"You're right... you are absolutely right"_ Gill shrieked. Bill was in complete shock. He was never right... about anything.

" _THAT IS IT! You're a genius! I've been running it over all night in my head – I couldn't even sleep trying to figure out why they're doing this but you're right!"_ Gill further exclaimed as she eyeballed her smiling but confused husband. Bill was rather proud that he had finally found the answer – although he wasn't quite sure what it was.

" _They're testing them! Aren't they? They are showing the world how special they are!"_ Gill continued while waiting for her husband to respond but Bill wasn't listening,

" _I've been telling you I'm a genius for years_!" he thought proudly and silently before Gill pinched his arm to tune him back into her wave length.

" _Don't you remember those people on the radio and on TV who were convinced the January 7_ th _baby would have special powers? The laser vision and the wings... well that's what they're doing! They think Will has powers."_ Gill gassed, trying to job her husband's memory.

Poor Bill did not know what to say - whichever road he picked, he knew it would inevitably lead to a head-on collision.

" _I can't imagine they listened to all that nonsense love. That was just a few loonies who wanted to get their face on Tv. I'm sure they're just keeping things interesting for the audience. I promise I will ring Mr. Ruperts today and I'll talk to him, I'll tell him,"_ replied Mr. Leave It to The Genius.

" _Tell him what?"_ Gill yelped, sounding both angry and hurt and knowing her husband all too well.

" _I'll tell him exactly what you're saying. I'll tell him it's not okay. Ask him what's going on? Why the change in the show and the challenges? I'll tell him we don't like it and that we don't want Will going through that again."_ assured Mr. I Got This.

" _Good! And please have it done before I get home from work. You do not have to spend the entire day building Lego,"_ snapped Gill. She might only have had one son but she certainly had two children to look after.

" _I will. Don't worry. I'll sort it."_ assured Captain Stills, relieved that he could calm his wife's fears for now and rescue at least some of the crockery.

Bill would indeed pick up the phone and try to speak to ViewYou as soon as he could, but there was no guarantee that anyone was going to listen.
Chapter 9 – The Deceitful Kangaroo

As he raised his above average sized head from the carpet, Will's wide eyes stared through the bright morning light.

" _They think I have special powers!"_ he sputtered before biting his bottom lip.

In his eight years upon planet earth, he had seen enough super-hero movies and read enough comic books to know exactly what that meant.

" _But what powers?"_ he wondered as he pulled his Avengers bed sheets up to the bottom of his pillow and smoothed out the untidy wrinkles. His mother always said he was a " _super_ " boy for making his bed every morning but _Bed Making Boy_ was unlikely to star in his own comic book.

Megan was already out in her back garden, busily bouncing on her pink palace of boing and though she certainly had balance, she didn't seem to possess particularly special jumping skills.

" _Well she might not... but I was born first!"_ Will declared as he ran back across his room and opened his bedroom door as wide as it could possibly go.

An idea had struck him... he was not going to wait for the next Big Bash to discover if he did have special powers. He was going to find out today! Climbing upon his bead, he kicked his pillow out of the way and stretched his arms out wide... ready to take flight.

" _Megan might have a super memory, but I bet I have super jumping powers!"_ Will cheered as he aimed to leap from the bed right the way across the room and out his door (roughly twelve feet away - the length of two tall men lying down, one after the other – toes to hair.)

" _Focus. Breathe. Jump."_ Will repeated again and again as he summoned the powers he hoped he had.

" _Focus. Breathe. Jump."_

" _Focus! Breathe!_ _Juuuummmp!_ _"_

Will jumped. He jumped a regular height. He jumped a regular distance. He landed with a regular thud and felt the regular amount of pain that a regular person would feel when they jumped off their bed at considerable speed.

" _What on earth was that?"_ Gill wondered before sending her husband to trap the escaped zoo animal that was running freely through the 2nd floor of their half-mansion

" _Are you okay bud?"_ Bill asked in a concerned tone as he stepped through the bedroom door that Will had missed by a mile. He might have been okay but poor Will was "super" embarrassed as he heaved his crumpled body from the floor.

" _Yip daddy, I'm okay!"_ the bruised boy replied as he crossed his arms and rubbed his elbow and shoulder at the same time.

" _Why were you lying on the floor?"_ Bill asked.

" _Just fell out of bed daddy. I was dreaming I was a kangaroo and I jumped right out of bed."_ Will lied rather craftily though his father didn't seem to notice that the Kangaroo's bed was already neatly made.

" _Ha!"_ Bill laughed, amused by the weird, fake dreams of his son. _"Well get yer skates on Skippy and get yer butt downstairs. Brekkie's ready. If ya really want to bounce, don't forget ya have that new trampoline. I'd bet it's a little bit softer than the floor."_

So, Will did not have a super jump or a super memory but his mother had just awoken a super-sized curiosity within her son.

## Chapter 10 – The Lord of TV Ratings

" _I told you it would work and it did and I was right. Twelve million more tuned in."_ Lord boasted while staring down his father.

Squeezing a printed copy of last night's ratings between his fingers, Lord triple checked the numbers to ensure he wasn't seeing things.

" _Twelve million more!"_ he echoed with a giddy shrill.

" _Yes. Yes. I heard you the first time. And yes, maybe it was your suggestion but it was a good job I agreed to it,"_ Benedict replied defensively.

Though the chairman knew his retirement was always creeping closer, he was determined to prove he still had enough giddy-up to be the big boss. He wasn't ready to be shoved from the saddle just yet. Not now. Not when he had reins of the most watched television show in the world.

" _Father, Will vs. Megan is just the start. It's just a little nibble to get things going, to whet the appetite. Next year we have to deliver the main course!"_ Lord exclaimed as he frantically paced up and down the plush carpet of the fish-tank office. He couldn't sit down, there was too much excitement fizzing through him.

" _We must tread lightly_!" Ruperts Snr. warned _. "Don't forget boy, these are young children. We don't want the families getting cold feet. Mr. Stills rang this morning, left a message on the answer phone, said the boy felt terrible and didn't enjoy the challenges."_

" _Don't be so soft!"_ Lord cried, forgetting himself slightly. _"This is our programme! We pay for their house, their lives. That idiotic clown doesn't even have a job – he'd have to go back to work. We can do whatever we like with them. They're our playthings... our puppets."_

" _No Boy! No! We must tread carefully. The audience will see through it if we get carried away, we don't want to lose them. Remember, people love those children. They feel like they own them."_ he rumbled.

" _But they don't! We do!"_ Lord crowed _, "Last night was just the first step... we have to prove that these two miracles don't just have good memories and can dodge obstacles. We didn't wait 57 years for another John and Jane Smith. THEY. ARE. SPECIAL. And we will, on live TV, prove just how SPECIAL these miracles really are."_ Lord screamed as Benedict trudged off pretending he hadn't heard, pretending he didn't know what his son was on about.

But he had heard. Lord knew he'd heard.

The chairman may pretend he was against the idea for the time being but Lord knew his father would soon be presenting the idea as his own.

The prince knew the king's mind inside out and he knew exactly how to play him.

## Chapter 11 – The Annoying Bouncing Princess

_Stills & Son_ were the perfect Lego building team. While Bill called for the pieces he required, Will instantly scanned through the messy brick pile, hunting down his father's request.

" _Long piece, five bumps."_ Bill ordered, _"Four needed."_

" _Five bumps, long piece, four on the way."_ Will instantly repeated as if he was a sous-chef at New York's busiest steakhouse.

Determined to never leave his dad hanging, Will always delivered on time. Now the boy was eight, Will was even allowed add a few bricks himself,

" _Yer getting there bud, not quite master Lego builder yet but yer fast improving, it won't be long."_ Bill proudly proclaimed.

By January 10th, the falcon was almost ready for launch but Will was in no rush. He'd had such a blast building it with his dad that he didn't want it to end.

" _It's so awesome, the awesomeness is flowing out of it."_ Will gushed as his dad clicked the last brick into place. Father and son stood back, sharing the most splendid silence, the most amazing view. The falcon was ready to fly. Well maybe not fly exactly but it was certainly ready to be zoomed through the air on the end of Will's arm (while Bill hovered nervously nearby.)

" _Let's jump to light speed Chewie!"_ Will Solo shouted in an odd American accent as he departed the Lego Construction Centre and whizzed through the garden, _"WWUUUUUUSSSSSHHHHH!"_

Bill's heart also jumped to light speed as his son sprinted past him. He'd seen many of his... sorry... _Will's_ Lego sets smashed to smithereens because his son had the audacity to actually play with them. Bill really wished Will would just admire them through glass. Thick, impenetrable glass.

" _Will, I think it's time we put the Falcon back in the Star Wars Lego Construction Centre. We better get the dinner on before your mum comes home."_ Bill begged as he chased his son around the garden, weaving between sheds and feeling particularly fearful he might trip near the unforgiving patio slabs.

The Star Wars Lego Construction Centre or the SWLCC as they called it (Gill called it shed number 1) was starting to fill up. Bill was thinking it was time to follow up the original with a sequel and SWLCC2 needed to be bigger and better. SWLCC had been chock-a-Lego-block for some time but Bill knew such a proposal would likely push the dark lord, Gill Stills, into full-Sith mode. Eight Lego Construction Centres were seven too many as far as she was concerned. Bill could immediately imagine her saying,

" _There'll be no grass left out in that garden!"_

Gill was right. At least half the back garden was already stuffed with sheds. It was just as well Will didn't win the big bouncy palace, there was no room.

Bill had just managed to prize the falcon from his son's clumsy hands when the _dumph_ , _dumph_ began yet again.

DUMPH, DUMPH, GIGGLE, DUMPH!

The princess was in her castle and she was on a mission: a mission to bounce. Megan's leaping was so frantic, she sounded like a boxer pummelling a punch bag. Although... in many ways... she was. Each and every _dumph_ reminded Will of that awful evening, every single _dumph_ was like a sharp thunk to his gut.

This incessant _DUMPH, DUMPH, GIGGLE, DUMPH!_ also haunted the man of the house. Every time he stepped out his back door and moved towards his Lego Construction Centres, it filled his ears. That year, it got so bad that Bill had to get a portable radio for his Lego Construction Centres in the hope that the music would drown out the unending _DUMPH, DUMPH, GIGGLE, DUMPH_!

" _It's so hard to focus with that racket. There must be no distractions."_ Bill moaned to his wife one evening as if he was a heart surgeon, not a fully-grown man building a Lego City Fire Station.

On that nippy January afternoon, Marvellous Meg was jumping so high that she could see over the fence that separated the gardens. She caught Will mid-sneak as he crept across from the SWLCC to the patio doors.

" _Hello!"_ _Dumph_

" _Every time."_ Will thought to himself. _"She's like a kangaroo security guard."_

"W _hat..._ " _Dumph_

"... _you..._ " _Dumph_

"... _doin'?_ " _Dumph_

Before Will could answer, Bill shoved the kitchen window open with his yellow, rubber gloved hand and cried,

" _Will! Will! Mr. Green is here. Tell Megan!"_

## Chapter 12 – The In-between and Mr. Green

Will adored Mr. Green.

Soon after they were born, it was decided that Megan and Will were " _too special_ " for school. For the first three years, Mr. Green only visited Ruperts Road once a week to spend an hour with them both, reading funny stories and singing silly songs. But as soon as they turned four, that all changed.

The big, bearded man now knocked on their door three times a week. What is more, he was no longer popping in to just read silly stories. Oh no! Now they had to struggle through sorrowful spellings and pitiful punctuation. In addition, twenty mournful minutes of each session were dedicated to miserable maths (or 1/3 of the session as Mr. Green would say - trying to teach fractions). Thankfully, Mr. Green did always try to squeeze in one of his trademark silly stories as a little treat once the hard work had been completed.

" _Megan! Mr. Green is here!"_ Will shouted over the wall at little Miss Boing-Boing.

Will had many favourites like **The Farmer Who Hated Vegetables** and **The Teacher with No Teeth** but **The Parp-Parp President** was his all-time fave.

Will was always thrilled to see Mr. Green as his visits were the only time he really got to see anyone other than his mum and dad. Though his Gran popped in every now and again, it got rather lonely on Ruperts Road. When they were younger, he and Megan used to always play together: splashing about in the indoor pool, eating ice cream until their bellies burst. But now they were older, they didn't seem to have all that much in common. (Other than both loving Mr. Green's stories, of course.)

Megan preferred to read books about famous presidents and bounce in her palace all day while Will spent his wide-eyed hours building Lego and watching Star Wars.

" _Star Wars is weird. They have really silly names. Obi Wan Kenobi sounds really stupid. I think it's for babies."_ Little Miss Grown Up moaned to Mr. Big Baby.

" _Obi Wan Kenobi is a Jedi master. You can't call him silly, you'll make him really cross."_ Will snapped back, defending his hero.

The Janu-baby mums, Gill and Mildred would pop in now and again for a cup of tea or a glass of the bubbly stuff and a natter but their husbands, Bill and Wilfred, never communicated unless they absolutely had to.

They were two very different species of men. Twice the width of Bill Stills, Wilfred Drizzlecott was shaped like a mountain – a mountain with arms and legs. His shoulders weren't shoulders, they were gigantic boulders - bigger than the biggest bowling balls. (You know the one your fingers get lost in? That size!) Every muscle in his upper arm was bigger than Will's head (and you know how big that is!) Poor, puny Bill couldn't build muscle, he could only build Lego.

As that eighth year progressed, so too did the distance between Will and the Bouncing Princess. She was once a neighbour and a friend but for Will, something had changed. Deep down, he really hoped she might invite him over for a bounce or two so he could really test if he had special jumping powers but she never did.

Why would a princess have need of a prince when she already had the palace?

Version 1.0 of the Big Birthday Bash was something they both enjoyed but 2.0 meant they were no longer neighbours who shared a mansion and a birthday.

Now they were opponents.

Now they were rivals.

## Part 2 – A Boy Turns Nine
## Chapter 13 – Big Bash 3.0

" _Big presents, big cake, big surprises and everyone will love it."_ Benedict Ruperts thought to himself when he learned that the long-awaited January 7th baby had finally arrived

The first bash was a huge success and was the most watched TV programme of that year. Over 50 million people tuned in to sing happy 1st birthday to Will and Megan. But after a few years of the same ol', same ol' (big cake and big presents), the whole world yawned! Only 30 million bothered to sit through the 4th party. The next year? Well Benedict was starting to fret that his big bash was about to suffer a big crash and he knew that ViewYou couldn't be responsible for yet another failed show.

" _What should I do boy?"_ Benedict asked his twelve-year-old son one evening over dinner with a tinge of desperation in his voice _. "The 7_ th _birthday party just about scraped twenty million and if we don't do something, we could be facing the reality of a measly ten by the time those children turn eight. Do we pull the plug or do we get creative?"_

None of the big brains at ViewYou could suggest a solution but Lord had been sitting on an idea that popped into his head the moment Will plopped into his nappy during the 3rd Big Bash.

" _I do have one suggestion father..."_ Lord teased as he speared his freshly cooked lobster with his fork. It was so rare that his father asked him for help – he was going to make sure that he made it last – made it meaningful.

" _Well, what is it boy?"_ his father impatiently demanded. " _It's only a matter of weeks before the next show... stop all this flim-flamming and get to the point!"_

" _I think you're looking at this all wrong! You shouldn't celebrate them. You shouldn't pamper them. You should humiliate them!"_ Lord bellowed as he stabbed his fork through the pink, crispy shell _. "Challenge them! Test them! One against the other... that's what will keep the audience hooked. Keep them coming back! We'll have a big score board... Will vs. Megan! Miracle vs. Miracle! And we'll discover which miracle is the most miraculous. People don't want happy, sappy, singing songs! They want conflict, they want tension... drama!"_ he revealed in a devilish voice while stroking an invisible beard that was still many years away.

Although Benedict was quietly impressed by the idea, he'd never admit it. And it wasn't long before he was presenting the idea as his own and hogging all the praise and acclaim.

Just a few weeks before the ninth Big Bash, Lord sat in his father's office, twiddling a heavy silver pen between his fingers, trying to explain the next phase of his master plan,

" _Father, last year, my idea for the challenges helped us climb back up to 30 million and I'm sure if you listen to me, we could hit 40, 50 - maybe even more! I've had a brainwave that could make us billions."_ Lord gushed, knowing exactly how to get his father's attention.

" _Go on... I'm listening._ " Benedict replied, peering over his glasses and pulling his swivel chair a little closer to his fancy desk.

" _Everyone was convinced when these two brats were born that they would be special – you remember them blabbing to anyone who would listen..."_ Lord cried, trying to jog his father's memory.

" _Yes, yes, get to the point! I've got to meet with advertisers in five minutes."_ a busy Benedict pleaded.

" _Well everyone thought they'd be more than just super-cute – they hoped they'd be super smart and super-strong! What if they were right? And what if_ _we_ _were the ones to prove that they were right? That Will and Megan really are special. Not kissy, cuddles special. Better than that. More than that."_

" _Point boy! Point! I've got to go!"_ boomed Benedict rising up from his swivel chair which again rolled back and clinked against the window behind.

" _These kids are unique. They are powerful. That kind of special. All we have to do is unlock it. We should now use the challenges to test them... push them... check their strength, their speed... whatever we want, we can do it and we can prove to the whole world just how special they are. We're not there yet but we're getting closer. We just need to ramp up the level of challenge, ramp up the danger. That will light the spark and boom! All will be revealed live on TV... on_ _our_ _programme! The whole world will see... a hero born live on national television... a super-hero!"_ Lord was so besotted with his new idea that he shot up out of his chair and knocked it down behind him. He prayed his father would share his enthusiasm.

" _What a load of poppycock!"_ Benedict fumed as he searched his table for the file he needed. _"You had one good idea and now it's clearly gone straight to your head. And you've clearly been reading too many of those comic books. Those children are special because they're different, everyone knows them, they have a birthday that few others in the world have. They don't have powers! That really is the worst idea you've ever had."_ Benedict cackled, mocking his son as he whizzed past him, heading for the clear glass door. _"Ramp up the danger... my goodness... what pish-pash!"_

Instinctively, Lord sprinted beyond his father and pinned the door shut with his foot. He really needed to prolong the conversation that Benedict was trying to cut short. " _You have to trust me on this. Those children are far from ordinary. I was right about last year so just trust me on this... please!"_

" _Get out of my way you ninny goat!"_ the chairman raged, temporarily trapped in his own office. _"You have no evidence, no proof at all."_ Benedict shrieked as he shoved his son from the door and stomped off.

" _That's what the challenges are for... they will give us the proof we need. I've already arranged the first challenge with Gary and Tracey."_ Lord shouted after him.

The apprentice had tried and failed to reason with the master but he knew he didn't need his permission.

Lord Ruperts had many ways of getting things done.

## Chapter 14 – Sit Stills

A week before Will's 9th birthday, a rather unexpected visitor arrived at the front door of No. 7, Ruperts Road.

It was the owner of the road himself, Mr. Benedict Ruperts.

This surprise appearance was made all the more unusual by the sight of him carrying a rather sizeable straw box. Bill Still's eyes bulged as he spotted the world's 7th richest man tapping on the stained-glass panels of his front door. As he welcomed him in from the blustery weather outside, the soft-spoken billionaire hand-combed his grey hair back into place and remarked,

" _Good evening Stills family, I hope all is well on Ruperts Road."_ the billionaire gushed without even a hint of a smile. _"I must apologise for my unannounced arrival but I wished to bring Will an early birthday gift. He must be getting excited now."_

Heading straight for the kitchen, it was clear Mr. Ruperts knew the layout of the house. After all, he had designed it. Already dressed in his storm-trooper pyjamas, Will was sat at the kitchen table, snacking breathlessly on his pre-bed milk and bickies.

Casually ruffling the young boy's freshly washed hair, Benedict set the large, straw box onto the table before Will, almost toppling his half-drunk glass of milk.

" _Hello young man. My, haven't you grown?"_ he remarked with a warm smile. " _I was thinking you might like to have a little friend to play with."_

Immediately, Will stopped munching. The mangled chocolate chip cookie sat still upon his tongue. His right eyebrow rose ever so slightly as he noticed that the mystery box was vibrating.

" _What is it?"_ he demanded to know as cookie crumbs fell from his lips.

The silent adults only added to the tension. With a quick lift of his brow, Bill urged his son to go right ahead. The lid was beginning to hop up and down as if the basket itself was feeling slightly nervous. From within, a tiny whimpering sound could be heard and as Will stretched an arm out towards the lid, a little ball of fluff popped up. It was so sudden and unexpected, his heart and milk and cookies almost erupted out of his mouth.

What a beautiful ball of fluff it was.

Without invitation, this panting bundle of cute leapt out onto the table and bounded on to Will's lap (though it didn't quite make it and ended up crashing on to the floor with a slightly awkward donk.)

" _A puppy! A puppy!"_ Will gushed as he chased his four-legged gift.

Of course, it was not just any puppy! It was the most beautiful puppy the Stills family had ever seen. If you've never seen a beagle puppy, Google it! They are so cutey-ful, you will want to put it in your mouth. His eyes gleamed like two brown marbles and as Will leaned down to fetch him, the tiny pup's floppy, brown ears bounced around while his cold, wet nose kissed his new owner hello.

" _I hope you have many years of happiness together."_ wished Mr. Ruperts as he turned back towards the door. _"I must go now. I have to make another delivery to a special, little girl next door."_

" _What do you say to Mr. Ruperts Will?"_ inquired Mrs. Don't Forget Your Manners.

" _Thanks Mister!"_ replied Will without even looking up or fully appreciating who he was actually thanking.

As Bill walked Mr. Ruperts back to the front door, both men shared a brief but intense exchange of whispers. Will was too entranced by his fluffy gift to notice but Gill was curious to know what the muffled chatter was about...

" _Oh, nothing love..."_ Bill lied _"...don't worry – just talking through the plan for next week's show."_

" _Oh good!"_ Gill trustingly replied, " _And you reminded him about the challenges... that we didn't want them anymore."_

" _Oh yes..."_ Bill lied again. " _All that's sorted. No problem there at all. So, what are we going to call this little ball of fur?"_ Bill asked, keen to change the subject.

After a few moments of himming and hawing, Bill nervously floated the idea of _Lego_ but his wife instantly tutted a torpedo that blasted his idea to smithereens. Half-heartedly, he then suggested _Yoda_ but that also sank without a trace.

" _He's such a cute dog, we need a name that captures his cuteness."_ counselled Gill as she plucked the pup from Will and snuggled him right into her neck as if he was a very expensive scarf.

" _What about Sugar Sprinkles_?" she wondered.

" _No mum. He's not a girl."_ Will scolded. _"He's a boy, look at his..."_

"... _okay Will, that's fine, we can all see it. Well what do we call him then?"_ wondered Gill.

As soon as Gill plopped him down on the floor, the nameless, little fur-ball began to whine, demanding to be whisked back up.

" _I really wish he'd stop scratching my ankles and just sit."_ she said.

" _That's it...."_ Bill blurted as if he'd just discovered a cure for blindness _. "Sit... we'll call him Sit."_

" _What, you can't call a dog Sit?"_ replied Gill, clearly hating the idea.

" _C'mon! It's perfect. Sit Stills! You won't get a better name than that and I guarantee it will make it so much easier to train him."_ beseeched Mr. Pushing His Luck.

" _Sit."_ Bill ordered and Sit immediately sat. _"See! Look how easy that was?"_

In the absence of any other sensible suggestion, Bill (for once) got his way. The edible beagle was indeed bestowed with the title of _Sit Stills -_ although it didn't take long to realise just how daft Bill's idea truly was.

" _Sit! Sit! Come Sit! Walkies Sit!"_ Bill shouted around the house, trying to locate the pup for his daily walk around the perimeter of the house.

The poor dog did not know whether to sit, stand or walk. Most of the time, he looked like a fluffy yo-yo. His Dumbo like ears flapped about as he stood up, sat down, stood up again – before Bill finally found him, attached his lead and dragged him outside.

In the end, the baffled beagle was so confused, he must have wished Mr. Ruperts had dropped him next door instead.

## Chapter 15 – A Licky Alarm Clock

The morning of his 9th birthday, Will awoke to a very slobbery kiss.

Though the birthday boy had already been scrubbed in the tub the previous night, Sit was making sure his master would wow the crowds at ViewYou studios.

It was after 9am and Will didn't feel very wow.

Normally, on the morning of his birthday, Will's eyes would snap open at about a half past ridiculous o'clock but that night the tornado nightmare had disturbed him twice and each one was more gruelling than the last. Sit was now also being sucked into the twister and though Will did everything he could to catch him... to save him... he never could.

By 9.15 am, Gill was impatiently hollering from the squeaky bottom step of the stairs.

" _Wakey – wakey Mr. Nine-Year-Old, it's time to open your presents."_

Groggy eyed and heavy hearted, Will flopped down each step of the stairs, rubbing his eyes open with the sleeve of his pyjamas.

What a wonderful sight met his eyes... banners and cards, cake and gifts; the perfect tonic for a bad night's sleep.

Slashing and shredding, Will ripped the wrapping paper as if he was a gardener attacking an out of control hedge.

_RIIIIPPP!!!_ New Spiderman pyjamas.

_RRRIIIIIPPPPP!!_ A talking Chewbacca with a light and sound bow blaster.

_RRRIIIIIPPPPP!!_ A Darth Vader alarm clock that breathed heavily to signal wakey-wakey time.

_RRRRIIIPP!!!!_ Enough chewy sweets to silence a crazed church choir.

After four minutes of frenetic shredding, Will stood there, short of breath, anticipating the next one. But that was it. The table was as empty as the shelves of a toy shop on Christmas Eve.

Just as the most spoiled part of Will was beginning to think _"That can't be it?",_ the Present Plane began its final descent towards No. 7 Ruperts Road.

With arms spread wide, Bill Stills swooped from the hallway into the kitchen with a massive rectangular box taped to his back. Wrapped in shiny, green paper and gold ribbon, it looked like the world's swankiest rocket pack.

" _Captain Super Gift cleared for landing."_ Bill radioed in (via his clenched fist) before plunging downwards and sliding into the sea of shredded paper beneath the kitchen table. Not expecting the slightly skiddy touchdown, Bill just managed to lower the landing gear before he collided with a thick, wooden table leg. With scissors held aloft, the helpful flight attendant, Gill Stills, arrived just in time to cut the tape that pinned the box to her husband.

Heaving the rocket-pack clean off the human aircraft, Will gushed, " _Thank you Captain Super Gift!"_ before hacking furiously at the tormenting wrapping paper that hid his surprise from him.

RRRRRIIIIIPPPPP!

" _NO WAY!"_ he screamed as he realised what had literally just landed at his feet. _"Lego Star Wars Attack on Hoth Base! NO WAY!"_ he shouted so loud that the mess of crumpled paper scattered from him.

" _It's my favourite bit in the Empire Strikes Back... in the snow where the AT-ATs attack the rebel base."_ he gushed before darting towards his parents and squeezing their tummies with a huge thank you hug.

" _I think you'll find that that's a present for you_ _and your_ _dad!"_ joked Mrs. I Married A Man Who'll Never Grow Up.

Bill didn't try to deny it but he was gutted that his secret was out. After all that unwrapping, a spot of breakfast and a quick tidy up, a long, black, Carlysle-driven limo pulled up outside the front door and honked a sharp _BEEP! BEEP!_

" _Carlysle's here! We need to get a groove on."_ commanded Gill, " _Are you sure you've spoken to Scott and Tony, they definitely know to let Sit out."_

" _Yes, yes, everything's sorted, let's just go_ ," replied Mr. If I Said I'd Do, I'll Do It.

" _Look who it is, the wicked prince himself. Ready to scoff all the party food he can handle,"_ the chauffeur teased as Will scurried towards him.

" _You bet I am."_ Will beamed back a big smile before launching himself through the waxed door of the limo as if it was a portal to another world.

" _Thank you Carlysle_!" Will roared from within the black leather world he had just been transported to, half-muffled by the sound of more wrapping being ripped. _"NO WAY! Star Wars comic issue number 1 IN SPANISH!"_

Will was genuinely thrilled. For his sixth birthday, Carlysle had tracked down the super rare Issue #2 on eBay. And after witnessing Will's gleeful reaction, he had been hunting every corner of the world with his Internet Explorer to find the rarest and most bizarre editions he could get his hands on.

Will's Star Wars comic collection now included Issues #2, #3, #4 and now the mega-rare Issue #1 (in Spanish). Issue #1 (in English) was almost impossible to get - gold-dust. But Will didn't mind, all the pictures were the same and he used his iPad to translate all the Spanish phrases from the speech bubbles. He had watched every Star Wars film (at least seventy times), read almost all the Star Wars comics and now he knew how to say _May the Force Be with You_ in Spanish and he practised it a lot. Over and over! Again, and again! For the next week, Will greeted every person he met with,

" _Que la fuerza este con usted!"_

But after an hour of busy translating, Will was starting to feel a little hungry and the limousine snacks weren't quite hitting the spot.

It wasn't just the force that Master Stills wished was with him,

" _Mum...? How long's it going to be 'til we get ice-cream donuts?"_

## Chapter 16 – Selfie-Time

Will was now a year older and ViewYou were fully prepared for his increased appetite.

Much like the line of sheds in the Stills' back garden, a row of silver mini fridges, chuck full of circular wonders, stood waiting in a perfect row...

... ready to salute their ravenous commander.

... ready to release their delicious ammunition upon him.

It did not take long for the Donut Destroyer to wreak havoc. Splatters of strawberry ice-cream, flakes of crisp icing and crumbs of spongy dough lay scattered along the trail of this hungry hurricane.

" _Will, please stop! You are going to be sick. Bill, can you please go and ask Gary to take away these fridges? Will's emptied two of them already."_ Gill pleaded.

" _Don't worry, I'll sort it."_ Bill assured her.

" _Yes..."_ Gill replied before adding, _"... and Mr. Ruperts better stick to your agreement... no more of those silly challenges."_

" _Oh yeah..."_ Bill gulped. _"I'm sure he will..."_ his voice fading as he followed the trail of ice cream splashes that he hoped would lead to his son.

Shortly before 7pm, the studio lights lit up. While Simeon topped up his hair oil, the audience simmered with expectation. Though his mane might have been a little shorter than the year before, his locks were still greasier than a mechanic's frying pan.

As the clock clicked seven, the vast sliding doors whooshed back and the presenter, packaged in a lime green suit, strutted out in front of the cameras, the audience, THE WORLD.

" _Good evening Planet Earth and welcome to our ninth BIG BIRTHDAAAAAYYYY BASH!!! And happy birthday to our January 7_ th _marvels – Will and Megan!!"_ gushed Mr. Giddier Than A Spinning Top.

As the gigantic 07 and 01 parted, the Stills and Drizzlecotts were shoved out into it all... blinded by the lights, deafened by the applause, greeted by the grease-monkey.

" _My, haven't you two grown since we saw you last – hard to believe another year has passed!!"_ waffled the jiggling jumping bean. "Please, please take a seat! We have so, so much to talk about!"

The prattling presenter pranced around the stage like a frenzied traffic warden directing everyone to exactly where they were required to be.

" _Now... Will, before you sit down, would you mind sitting up here beside me..."_ Simeon inquired while whacking the empty space on his golden throne with the palm of his hand, "...I really am your biggest fan and I'd love a selfie! Would that be okay?" he pretended to ask.

Immediately, Will glanced towards his mum to check if it was okay and as soon as he got the nod of approval, he toddled towards the strange man summoning him,

" _Right, where is my phone? Oh yes, in my jacket. Goodness me, I am rather forgetful tonight, aren't I?"_ he rambled to nobody in particular. "Right birthday boy. Big smile. Say cheeeeeeeesse!"

Will flashed a smile of white – well, not completely white, there was still quite visible traces of ice-cream donut streaked across his teeth.

" _Brilliant Will, thank you so much! That is a pic I will treasure forever! Me and the most famous nine-year-old boy in the world! Now, what about the most famous nine-year-old girl?"_ Simeon wondered, moving on rather quickly, almost shoving Will from his throne. "Can I have a selfie with you Megan? I really am your biggest fan!"

This warbling wally was so sickly sweet. If you stuck your finger in his ear, you would most definitely end up with thick sugary syrup coating the tip of your nail.

" _Say cheeeeeeeeese!"_ Simeon squealed again.

Being much more at ease in front of the camera than Will, Megan instantly pushed her lips into a big diva pout and arched her right eyebrow as if to suggest she was a perfect mix of angry and awesome.

"Oh My! Don't we have a future supermodel amongst us! Wow weeee!" Bonaventure boomed as the audience turned from an "aww" to a knowing chuckle.

" _Future president actually!"_ Megan bit back, disgusted by the presenter's suggestion.

" _Oh... excuse me! How could I forget? Now, the real reason I required a selfie with my two faves is that I thought it would be fun to get tonight's show started with a fun little challenge! Don't we love a challenge people?"_ Simeon asked the audience who all agreed with an over the top "YES!!" because the big screen above their heads instructed them to.

Gill was not cheering.

She couldn't possibly cheer. She was too busy eyeballing her husband who immediately looked away, pretending to spot a friend in the crowd.

" _We have set up a Twitter account for both of our Janu-babies and we are going to tweet each of these pictures using your new accounts and the pic that gets the most retweets by the end of the show will win an extra bonus point!"_ the giddy greaser gargled while the audience pantomimed another "ooh" even though it really was not very "ooh" at all.

" _So, if you're going loopy for Will's photo, visit his page which is @January7thWill and retweet it or if you're going gaga for Megan's pic, visit @January7thMegan and we will check back at the end of the show to see who has won the bonus point – it may come in very handy if we end in a tie!"_

Squirming restlessly in her chair, Gill continued to lob lethal daggers towards her "don't worry, I'll sort it" husband. Bill was looking in every other possible direction, pretending to be listening intently to Simeon but his steaming wife would not have to wait long to speak her mind. Simeon was linking to the first ad-break of the night,

" _Join us after the break and we will have our first Will vs. Megan challenge live here in the studio – and we shall see who comes out on top!"_

As soon as the red lights on the six swively cameras dimmed, Gill grabbed her flustered husband by the hand and marched him off to the side of the stage as if he was a very naughty school boy.

" _Did you not promise me that you spoke with Mr. Ruperts and told him how we felt about these challenges!?"_ Gill seethed

" _Yes, you know I did, I told you I rang him that same day!"_ Bill defended.

" _But you told me it was sorted! What exactly did he say because it does not feel like much has been sorted out there_!" spurted Mrs. Do I Have to Do Everything Myself?

" _Well, he didn't say anything because he didn't answer so I left him a message with his receptionist."_

" _WHAT?"_ Gill shrieked as her eyeballs swelled in their sockets. "You left him a message? Did he ring back?"

" _No – I said he didn't have to. He's a very busy man so I just asked her to pass on the message and I thought that would be that."_ cowered Mr. Please Don't Hit Me.

" _You told me you'd sorted this and you told me you reminded him just last week and you... you... you..."_ fumed Gill unable to finish her insult as Will came tumbling towards them shouting, "I need a wee, really badly!". That was something she would never ignore, not after the "turd" birthday surprise.

As the ten second countdown to the end of the ad-break began, Bill whispered, "I did think the message would be enough, and when he brought the puppy over, I didn't want to appear ungrateful... I am sorry!"

Gill didn't reply. She far preferred to shoot the pointiest, spikiest daggers at her husband. The evil stare was so sharp it actually gave Bill a headache.

Bill Stills really needed his son to win the next challenge or he would never hear the end of it.

##

## 

## Chapter 17 – Bungee Run Fun

3... 2... 1...

" _And welcome back to our 9_ th Big Birthday Bash where it's now time for our first live challenge of the night!"

As the giant scoreboard descended, Will's heart began to flutter. He couldn't bear to look up.

Out came the ribbon wrapped presents: the big one bigger than Mr. Rupert's ego, the small one smaller than Lord Rupert's chances of taking over ViewYou anytime soon.

" _Oh my, that is one maaaasive present this year!"_ prattled Simeon. "So how will one of you get your sticky mitts on it? Well, all you have to do is run for your life through our big, bouncy bungee run!" he echoed across the studio.

Right on cue, the giant double doors opened and out rolled a fully inflated, red and yellow striped bungee run with two long lanes running side by side.

" _You will see along the end of each run, there are five golden stars stuck to the sides. Both of you will be strapped to a long elastic band and will have to run as fast and as far as you can to pinch those stars. Whoever has the most stars after three minutes of bungee running will get one point on our scoreboard!"_ Simeon proclaimed, rattling off the auto-cue.

Marvellous Megan already had a distinct advantage; she had spent seventy five percent of her eighth year bounding around in her pink palace. It soon became clear just how good she was as she pounced straight up on to the bungee run and skipped down towards the starting point as if she was born with inflatable feet.

Will wasn't quite so nimble.

Though he just managed to scramble his way up onto the run, as soon as he tried to stand up, he tumbled and crashed head first into the side. The audience were their usual considerate selves, cackling like clowns.

" _Oops, I see Will hasn't quite yet mastered walking!"_ Mr. Slime Ball teased as the audience cackled louder still.

" _Mum was right." Will reflected quietly. "They really are testing us."_

Since he had fallen so awkwardly off his bed and embarrassed himself with that terrible fib to his father, he hadn't thought much more about it. But as he prepared to race up that bungee run, he felt his mum's theory might well indeed be true.

" _I've got to win this."_ Will quietly prayed. "I might not have super memory or a super jump but I could have super strength. If I reach the stars at the top first, I'll grab the ones closer to me near the end when I'm tired!" he cleverly plotted.

Bill was trying to catch his eye to offer a big thumbs up but Will couldn't bring himself to look. There was only one thing on his mind – well... five things. Five golden stars.

" _Remember, all you have to do is rip them off and bring them back here to the starting position."_ Simeon added. "Oh, and we might have one or two surprises along the way. ARE WEE RRRRREEAAADYYY?" he hollered as his audience squealed.

With the sudden blast of a heart-hopping claxon, they were off. Will was quickest into the sprint and was halfway down the run when he felt the belt begin to tighten. With his vision obscured by a wall of yellow rubber, he had no idea how his opponent was doing but he was sure it wouldn't be long before he was hoicked backwards.

He had certainly made a super-fast start and was already past the first star but as the belt squeezed his tummy, his right leg began to slip beneath him. Super-strength could now also be crossed off his list of potential powers.

Hurling himself towards the second star, Will stretched out his right arm to snatch it. But the tip of the glitter filled cardboard just scraped the top of his middle finger when the taut elastic band demanded his return and whisked him back to the starting point.

The cheering crowd howled with laughter as Will tried to unsprawl himself from the corner of cushioned air he had just flopped into.

" _My socks! They're too slippery. I have to take them off."_ he thought to himself.

With his feet now uncovered, Will steadied himself... preparing for a fresh assault on the boulevard of stars. But before he could begin his next dash, a large dollop of goo plopped from the sky above him. For a moment, he was blind as his face was buried beneath an avalanche of green and purple slop.

" _Oh great. More slime."_ Will whined.

As soon as he started to scamper, his feet skidded beneath him as if he was a character in an old cartoon. With his sockless hooves pedalling pointlessly, Will was going nowhere fast. Almost instantly, he regretted removing his socks and briefly considered putting them back on but he knew he had no time to waste.

" _Two minutes left!"_ Simeon barked from the side of the bungee run.

Out of nowhere, a most miraculous vision formed in Will's mind. He had seen someone do this before.

Luke Skywalker!

During the Battle of Yavin in episode 4, Luke had piloted his X-wing through the narrow trenches of the Death Star. With the odds stacked against him, the young Jedi had to hit an impossible target without getting shot down. Will's predicament was just the same and he needed what Luke used to save the day... the force.

Hoping to hear the voice of Obi Wan Kenobi in his head, Will sucked in a deep breath and steadied himself. But old Obi Wan must have been busy because all Will could hear was Megan bounding around in the neighbouring trench.

Accepting he was Kenobi-less, Will set his eyes on two particular golden stars – the two that sat directly opposite one another. He was sure he could simultaneously snatch both by flinging his arms out left and right as if he was about to hug a big-bellied bear.

As he rushed into a sprint, his feet spun beneath him but he had to keep moving. If he stopped for even a split second, he was going to be sent flying back to yesterday. As the elastic squeezed his waist, he tried to ignore it and just keep moving. With the target in his sights, he locked his steely stare upon it.

Ramming his toes into the rubber beneath, he kept on digging, refusing to let the elastic summon him home. Inch by inch, he scrambled forwards, his face grimacing, his teeth clenching.

He was almost there.

Though the stars were mere millimetres from his grasp, his knees were beginning to buckle and the sludge was making it almost impossible to stay upright. A wild and ferocious "AAAHHH" suddenly ripped from his lips as Will found the extra inch he needed to seize the stars before being flung back like a cannonball in reverse.

The audience did not laugh. They cheered! The determination of this young man was winning them over.

" _One minute left!"_ Simeon squealed – silencing the crowd.

Though Will was completely in the dark about how many stars Megan had so far retrieved, he knew he had two and only one more chance to secure that point. As he heaved himself up from the gunky ground and wiped the slime from his face, floor panels at the end of each bungee run zipped open. From each hole, two massive, black fans emerged like foul, demonic flowers. With a sudden WHIIIRRRRRR, they whizzed around - blowing a gargantuan gust at the Janu-babies.

Like a horizontal Everest, that dangerous and demented bungee run was fast becoming the greatest challenge Will Stills had faced in his nine years upon the earth. The green and purple slime had combined to create a deep, military brown and as Will braced himself for one final run at those stars, he looked like a mucky ghost.

Grinding his teeth tightly together, he eyeballed the two remaining night lights stuck to the left-hand side of the bungee run wall. If he could somehow get his sticky hands on both, he was sure he could beat Megan and win his first point.

Then it struck him, "the sludge doesn't have to be a foe, it could also be a friend."

Scooping up the brown slop, he smothered it all over his hands. It might have been a menace to his toes but it could super-charge his fingers.

" _This stuff sticks everywhere..."_ he thought to himself, "... it might even stick to stars."

With the burst of a startled rhino, he was off: thundering through the gunk, stretching into the space ahead of him, resisting the force that longed to defeat him. Inch by inch, he pushed his forehead into the hurricane designed to destroy him. Biting his bottom lip, he ignored the cry of his knees as they screamed, "Please buckle! Please buckle!"

Those two stars were getting closer but the wind was so fierce, he had to shut his eyes and move by memory. He had faced the tornado of his dreams but now this was real. He had to get past the first star to reach the second.

" _30 seconds left!"_ Bonaventure boomed, almost startling Will, reminding him of the world outside that cursed mess of a bungee run.

Trying to avoid the gusting gale, he turned his head to the left. The winds were so wild, Will could barely open his eyes but through the slightest squint, he could see it.

The first star.

Within his reach.

As he flung his left hand outward, it sucked up the star as if it was a super-strong magnet. But the swing of his arm had weakened his balance and he had to swiftly dig his right foot down into the slippery balloon floor beneath him.

That second star was just the width of a fly's eye lash from his reach but in those conditions, an inch felt like a mile. Swinging his left hand out once more, he hoped he was close enough but... he wasn't.

He missed! Just!

He was now so close to losing his balance, his knees were seconds from folding and the elastic was so close to winning this epic tug of war.

Bowing his head down as if in prayer, the exhausted boy arched his eyebrows into a startling scowl and released a ferocious growl that would clear a thousand pigeons from a town centre statue,

" _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!"_

As the scream invaded the audience's ears, the lights in the studio flickered and the birthday boy flung himself forwards with everything he had left - swinging and stretching his gunk covered fingers as far as he could. The star seeker was only in the air for a millisecond before the fan and elastic worked in tandem to send him hurtling back to the finish.

The audience fell silent.

Will lay still.

Right on cue, the claxon gave everyone another heart-hop just in case the first one hadn't finished them off already.

" _Well, I think time is up."_ Simeon droned, interrupting the awkward silence that hung around the studio. "It seems our fans are draining the power from our lights. Apologies for that. They're not meant to flicker. Will! Are you alive down there? Oh good, his eyes are open. And Megan? You still with us?" he gushed, not really knowing what to do or say. "Come on out and join us, bring your stars and we'll see which of you stars has collected the most... stars!"

Two very exhausted little children trudged towards him covered in the snot of a hundred flu-ridden giants. Panting frantically, Will held out his hand and Simeon carefully picked the stars from his mucky paws, careful not to get any gunk on his lime green suit.

" _Well, it looks like you've done well Will! 1..._ " he shouted as he flung the first star towards the audience who squealed while failing to dodge it. "...2.... 3... and 4! Hasn't he done well? Big round of applause for Will!" he demanded and the audience immediately obeyed.

" _And now, let's see how lovely Megan fared! Shall we?"_ hurried Simeon as a voice in his ear warned him it would soon be time for an ad break.

Megan held her stars aloft. Will could not see how many there were as they were all laced with gunk.

" _Haven't you done well little lady? 1... 2... 3..."_ Simeon wasn't slowing down.

Will's heart began to sink. He was so sure he'd done enough.

" _4.... and.... 5! You got them all!"_

She had. Every single one of them.

" _Well we all know what that means! Don't we? Lower the scoreboard!"_ Simeon summoned.

" _And now let's add a one to Megan. Wow – this is becoming all too familiar, isn't it? Megan in the lead again."_ Simeon goaded as Will tried hard to catch his breath and hold back the tears.

Megan was yet again the star of the show... she had yet again outshone Will.

## Chapter 18 – Dog v. Dog World

A quick change of clothes and a wipe down with a towel during the ad break and everyone was back on their couches, ready for part three of the "party" to begin.

" _Aaannnd welcome back! Now, before we move on, can we see how our selfies are doing? Shall we?"_ Simeon pretended to ask the audience. "Let's take a look at Will's first, oh..."

Will's new twitter account covered the large screen above the stage.

"... _. there it is and yes, wow! Well, would you look at that?"_ Simeon squealed. "Our picture has been retweeted over 7 million times! That is amazing, 7,345,672 to be exact – oh, and there's another. Now what about my selfie with Megan?"

Megan's twitter page illuminated the screen, ".... wow, another seven million... but that's a little bit behind Will, she has 7,345,258! So, there's only a few hundred in it. Oh, and there's some more. Well, we'll check back in at the end of the show and see what the final tallies are."

With his efforts on the bungee run, it seemed some new fans spinning Will's way.

" _Well, a little birdie told me that just over a week ago, you two Janu-babies got a little surprise. Am I right?"_ Simeon asked.

" _YES!"_ Megan and Will replied in a chorus.

" _What was it?"_ Simeon inquired

" _A little puppy!_ " Megan answered first, beating Will yet again.

" _That's right, our chairman, Mr. Ruperts very kindly brought you both a puppy."_

"Yeah, he said it was an early birthday present." Will shouted, determined to get a word in.

" _Well, you're right but it wasn't just a present. We thought we'd see how well you've been training your puppies and your next challenge is to see which of you has trained your pooch the best."_ Simeon explained as the expression on Will and Megan's faces drooped slightly.

" _Now you're probably wondering how on earth are we going to do that? Well, don't you worry because your little doggies are right here."_

With that, the double doors zoomed back and Sit Stills came lolloping out. Dashing directly for the biggest camera he could sniff, the naughty canine introduced himself to the world by peeing up the side of it.

" _Oh, I see you've trained him very well Will. Don't worry, I don't like that cameraman either."_ Simeon joked as the audience giggled and the cameraman shook out the bottom of his damp trouser leg.

Megan's puppy was much more civilised and ran straight towards the Drizzlecotts without needing to be summoned. Will had to leave the couch in order to fetch Sit before he flooded the studio.

" _Now, Megan, we'll start with you. Can you please tell everyone who this is?"_ Simeon inquired,

" _This is Buttercup Snuggles and she is my baby puppy."_ Megan beamed as the audience went "aaawww".

" _Well she's just gorgeous. And Will, tell us about your little fella?"_

" _This is Sit and he likes to wee everywhere."_

" _I can see that!"_ Simeon chuckled. "Well that's certainly an interesting name and it's lovely to meet you both. Now... how this works is quite simple; both of you will have to show us how well trained your four-legged friends are and you will have one minute to get them to try three things: sit, lie down and roll over. And the pooch who perfects the most tricks will win a point."

Megan was first up. Placing Buttercup Snuggles carefully on the ground in front of her, she held out her hand, pointed her index finger and said "sit" in a very stern voice. Of course, as soon as she said that, Sit Stills tried to wriggle out of Will's arms, thinking he'd been summoned.

Buttercup Snuggles did not sit.

"Sit Buttercup, sit!" the future President of the World pleaded. Nothing changed, the cute canine just stood there and shivered, her matchstick legs looking like they were about to crumble. Buttercup Snuggles was so cute and so loved she had barely used her little legs at all. Even as she slept, Megan cuddled her (she wasn't called Snuggles for nothing.)

" _Lie down... roll over..."_ Megan commanded rather optimistically.

" _I'm afraid time's almost up Megan_ ," Simeon warned.

" _Sit Buttercup, sit!"_ Megan pleaded hopelessly.

Just as Simeon moved to open that big hole in his face, the little pooch sat. Megan leapt up into the air as the audience clapped in appreciation of just how last second it was.

" _Wow, just in the nick of time – well... it was late but it still counts, so that's one point to Megan and Buttercup Snuggles!"_ Simeon summarised. "Now, Will, let's see what you and Sit can do."

Will stood up and popped Sit on the ground in front of him.

Will stared at Sit.

Sit stared back at Will.

Will did not speak. He didn't need to. As he waved his right hand through the air, Sit sat.

All at once, the entire audience gasped, sucking 64% of the oxygen out of the studio.

"Well with a name like Sit, you'd hope he'd be able to master that!" joked Simeon, pooping on Will's party a little.

Just to shut him up, Will then waved his left hand and Sit lay down. Bill and Gill were so gobsmacked, even they inhaled an additional 4%. They knew Will was staying up late to play with Sit but they had no idea why.

The audience cheered again as Simeon sparkled, "Wow! Wow! Wow! Well that is just fantastic – two points already. You really have a magic touch."

" _He's my apprentice."_ Will revealed. "He's the world's first Jedi dog and I'm his Jedi master."

Suddenly, Will spun himself around 360 degrees. It was so unexpected that the audience instinctively giggled but they were immediately silenced as Sit obeyed his master. As if he was scratching an itch he just couldn't reach, the beagle puppy rolled over on his side and continued to roll back and forth, back and forth until the audience all stood and cheered wildly.

" _Three points!"_ Simeon squealed.

But Will was not done.

As he shot both hands up into the air, Sit jumped up on to his back legs leaving his two front paws hanging in the air. It looked ever so strange – almost as if he was expecting Buttercup Snuggles to hop down and high five him. The audience whooped in giddy excitement as Will scooped Sit back up in his arms and praised his point-winning performance, "Great job buddy... great job!"

" _Wasn't that just amazing? What a treat. It's as if you can talk to animals! Well done young man, let's see what that amazing achievement has done to our overall scoreboard."_

As the giant tally chart descended, it was a joyous sight to behold. Will had his first point on the board and it was all down to the world's first Jedi puppy, Sit Stills.

" _I can't super jump. I don't have super strength or a super memory but maybe I have super dog training powers."_ the nine-year-old quietly wondered as the big fat 0 transformed into a truly dazzling 1.

"... _and that means we have a tie so it looks like we do need sudden death after all!"_ Simeon squealed as the presents were again rolled out. Just to add to the tension, the lights in the studio turned very red and very serious. "For that bonus point... for the big prize... we need to see whose selfie has been retweeted the most."

Will felt so anxious. He couldn't look. Part of him didn't want to know. The studio was so tense, the audience were holding their breath while Will did everything he could to avoid his dad's gaze.

" _So... let's take a look at Will's new twitter page. And remember, last time we checked, Will was roughly 400 ahead..."_ Simeon slowly instructed as he waved his arm at the big screen above his head. "Wow, well that is amazing. In just under two hours, my selfie with Will has been retweeted 10,546,724 times. That is incredible!"

Will squeezed his dad's hand tightly while Gill hugged him from behind. She desperately hoped another birthday would not be spoiled.

" _Okay right, rrr... right..."_ Simeon stammered, the lights still dimmed. "Can we please see Megan's twitter feed?"

The photo popped up and the numbers looked similar. Too similar. Nobody could remember exactly what Will's were. Confused and wrinkled brows filled the studio.

" _Oh, my word... this is quite something. It seems we are incredibly close... looks like Megan has made a comeback... in fact... yes... I've just had it confirmed in my ear that... it is Megan who has won... wow... by just five retweets."_

Simeon was right – Will's photo 10,546,724

Megan's photo 10,546,729.

The difference 00,000,005

Will shook his head in disbelief. Even the audience briefly winced before the instructions on the screen forced them to cave in and begin their usual whooping and hollering.

" _AWW! Really hard luck Will. So, so close. You really tried your best tonight. And don't forget you do both win a prize. Yours is just smaller than Megan's."_ Simeon commiserated bluntly before quickly shifting to a more animated tone. "And well done you young lady. Yet another victory. Shall we take a peek at what's behind all this wrapping paper?" Simeon wailed.

Yet again, the loser went first. Nothing was going to top the Lego set he had received that morning but Will did try his best to look enthusiastic. As he lifted the lid, the box cracked open and out popped a fully inflated punch bag. Instinctively, Will whacked it with a right hook which nearly ripped a hole through the rubber. Everybody laughed and Will felt so much better. He hadn't realised just how much he needed to punch something.

As Megan pulled at the ribbon, the huge gift box burst open and yet again it was empty. Will knew better than to start thinking it was a trick. Instantly, the large doors whisked back to reveal a new addition to Megan's assortment of bouncy collectables: a brand new, full sized, fully inflated bungee run.

"Great," thought Will to himself, "... more dumph, dumph, giggle, dumph."

With that, the deliciously large cake was wheeled out and the audience sang "Happy birthday" to the "only two" born on January 7th for over sixty years. Taking a deep breath, the marvellous miracles had just enough energy left to blow the nine candles out.

"There really is no one like you two..." Simeon echoed before beginning to wrap up the big bash. "That's all from us for this year. See you all again next year for a very special 10th Big Birthday Bash."

Waving and smiling into the cameras, everyone helped themselves to handfuls of birthday cake.

But one person wasn't even pretending to smile.

This year, there would be no quick getaway to the limo and no surprise present to save a birthday from being completely ruined.

Gill Stills was not leaving this one to her husband to sort out and she certainly was not leaving that building until she had given Benedict Ruperts a piece of her mind.

## Chapter 19 – Truth Bombs

" _Well done boy!"_ Benedict Ruperts bellowed at his smirking son, "You absolute numbskull. Thanks to you, I've just had the mother of all tongue lashings from Mrs. Stills. She says there's no way she'll ever allow her son to take part if he's going to be humiliated like that again."

" _She'll calm down, don't worry ab..."_ Lord tried to interject,

" _... DON'T WORRY! Don't you dare tell me not to worry boy."_ The chairman roared so loudly his thunderous voice pulsed through the glass door of his office. "That was NOT the show I told Gary and Tracey to put together. You had no right going behind my back and interfere with my decisions, you blistering nincompoop. Can you please remind me when I ever gave you permission to go setting up twitter accounts and stupid selfie competitions? Yes, I did say you could have the bungee run but only as a jolly... a bit of fun - but I made it perfectly clear that there should be no more challenges. No more scoreboards!" he fumed. "I bought those puppies for the children as a gift, not as something to be turned into another of your foolish games. They were supposed to just come out and do a few tricks – that's why the boy got the dog that was already trained. I was keeping his parents quiet... keeping them onside. They'd already complained about last year's show and now look what you've done. We've lost their trust and you've made me look like an absolute saddle-goose!"

Benedict's screaming was so seismic; his face was turning a very peculiar, purply shade of red.

" _And you should see how foolish you look now, you purple faced old man,"_ Lord sneered quietly to himself before shouting aloud,

"WHO CARES HOW YOU LOOK? Wait until you see tomorrow's ratings – even now it looks like we could be back in line with the very first show. Did you not see how many retweets those photos got! Father, people are lapping this stuff up in their millions."

" _That means nothing – Megan and William are the stars and if we don't have them, if the parents aren't on board, it all falls apart. We are nothing without them. We don't need 60 million watching, even 20 million makes us enough."_ exclaimed Mr. I Don't Need the Money

" _You might be happy with enough but I'm not."_ retorted Mr. Even A Billion Isn't Enough.

" _It doesn't matter what you think... I'm in the chair and I will be for some time to come. The next time I hear you've gone behind my back and interfered with this company, I assure you, you will never, ever sit in that chair."_

That was the one threat that Lord had no answer to. As he stormed from the office, he whipped the glass door behind him, hoping to further demonstrate his anger without words. (BTW - it didn't, it was glass, it just swung back a little quicker than usual before closing gently)

Lord began to scribble his next head-letter – a really angry head-letter. "You're the saddle-goose! Whatever that is. What I do know is that you really are a clueless old man. You're inches from history and all you want is "enough". We are the biggest media company in the world and its chairman is happy to settle for "enough". You don't even know what you saw tonight, you don't even realise what was right in front of your eyes. Well maybe..." Lord's stroppy exit faltered. Suddenly, he turned on his heal, ripped his head-letter in two and walloped his way back through the glass door.

" _You really are blind!"_ he shouted, back on the attack before he was fully through the door.

"What?" replied a startled Benedict, jumping up out of his chair as if to defend his fancy desk from this enraged invader.

"Did you not see what that boy did tonight? Can you not see what he's actually capable of?" Lord asked, firing off a couple of curious questions.

"I didn't dare look away?" Benedict replied with a sarcasm missile. The chairman was sure his defences were solid. Rock solid. "All I saw was a boy covered in muck slipping about and losing to a girl! Are you really trying to tell me he's the new superman?" he chuckled as he sat back down, convinced of victory.

" _You've no clue what's really going on, do you?"_ Lord asked through a wicked grin as he loaded his bazooka with everything he had left. "That boy's bungee was three times stronger than hers!"

BOOM!

This truth-bomb seemed to make Mr. Ruperts reel a little. He reached out his right arm to steady himself against his desk. The truth-bombs kept coming... "It should have been impossible for him to reach any of those stars, never mind four. My plan was to humiliate him, to make absolutely sure he lost and yet he almost won – he was a fingertip away from victory. No nine-year-old should be that strong... not with all the slop at his feet and that fan in his face. I had Scott test it last weekend and he could barely reach the end of that run."

"Absolute poppycock boy!" Benedict countered with a half-hearted final defence.

" _Come back down to the studio with me now and I'll show you, I'll make you see that this boy is far from ordinary."_ Lord stated, skulking off, expecting his father to follow.

Benedict did not follow. Benedict started to laugh.

" _You really are a numbskull. While you were at school today, we had to completely replace that bungee run. It was a miracle we had one at all."_ Benedict revealed as he continued to titter.

" _What... why?"_ Lord spluttered, seemingly wounded by this counter-revelation.

" _Sharon rang me in a blind panic just after nine to tell me that someone had broken into the studio and ripped a massive hole in the side of the inflatable. We had to spend a fortune to get another one express delivered. We tried to patch it up but the damage was too great."_ The chairman explained.

" _But who was it? Surely our security cameras spotted them!"_ the dejected boy wailed.

" _Yes... yes... we're looking into it but they were very careful to cover their face. All I know is that it was an elderly gentleman with a large hood and a beard."_

Lord was gutted. Absolutely gutted. He was so sure he finally got his hands on the evidence he needed to prove that the January 7th miracle did indeed have super powers.

But now it seemed, somebody else was going to a great deal of trouble to derail his perfect plan.

## Chapter 20 – Boy Wonder(ing)

Bill always recorded the Big Bash.

Every year he and Will would drag their duvets down from upstairs and snuggle up on the couch, reliving every moment of the ninety-minute extravaganza on their 60-inch plasma.

But the morning after the ninth big bash, Will was not so keen.

" _Why are ya dressed already?"_ Bill asked, surprised to find his son watching the sports news channel and already dressed and washed for the day. _"Mum's gone to work and she won't be back until 5 so we've nothing to do all day but watch the Big Bash, start on the Hoth Base and fill our faces with whatever she won't miss from the cupboard."_

" _Can we not just start the Lego now?"_ Will inquired in a half-hearted tone that pricked Bill's ears upright.

" _Yeah... sure... of course... but don't ya want to watch the big bash first like we always do? I was just going to make us some toast smothered in Nutella."_

" _Nah...."_ Will lifelessly replied _. "I don't really want to go through all that again."_

" _But ya were brilliant... ya were so close on that bungee run and what ya did with Sit was amazing... people have been tweeting about it all night."_

" _That's because he's super smart... I hardly taught him anything... just the hand signals."_ Will replied as a heavy sulk formed across his face. _"How would I be able to do that? I'm rubbish at everything!"_

Will was right. He really was rubbish at everything. Of the seventy-nine things he'd tried in his life, he was astonishingly bad at every single one (except building Lego – though that's hardly a sport.)

Swimming? Nope. Can't move his arms and legs at the same time.

Basketball? No chance. Two black eyes, one broken finger.

Rugby? Not at all. Choked on his gum shield.

Karate? Mega No! Instructor's scary eyebrows made him cry.

Piano? Really, really no! Lid fell and crushed his hand, turning three finger nails black.

Skateboarding? Wheelie, wheelie no! Dislocated his left elbow.

Football? God no! Broke both kitchen windows as he shoots like a three-legged badger.

Archery? Don't even ask.

Though he won the odd game of battleship and beat his dad now and again at Mario kart, Will always felt like Bill was letting him win.

" _Yer not rubbish at all. Don't give me that nonsense... yer brilliant at lots of things – yer kind and clever and ya never give up!"_ Bill consoled. _"That's the stuff that really matters... just because ya haven't discovered yer talents yet - that doesn't mean yer rubbish."_

" _Yeah... but I'm supposed to be more than normal!"_ Will suddenly blurted with a slight frustration.

" _What?"_ a bemused Bill replied.

" _Everyone keeps saying I should have special powers."_ Will blabbed. It was out before he realised but he was so relieved he'd actually said it. It had been bugging him for months.

" _Who's saying that?"_ Bill asked with a forced look of confusion.

" _Mum said it last year... after the party. I over-heard her saying Mr. Ruperts was testing me to see if I had powers and she said that before I was born, everybody was talking about it!"_ Will was whipping himself into such a storm, a tidal wave of tears were on their way. _"... saying that I had to be someone special because nobody else had been born on January 7th for so long and..."_

"... _whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Easy there tiger!"_ Bill interjected, trying to soothe the growling boy. _"Yer mum was just worried about the challenges and she didn't want them putting pressure on ya. There's a lot of strange people out there bud. Everyone knows that stuff is just in comic books and in movies. No one's expecting ya to stop a plane falling from the sky or shoot lasers out yer eyes..."_

Will laughed. Though he hadn't expected to, he now felt so relieved. For too long, he'd been carrying around this weight, this pressure... thinking the whole world expected him to be something more than he was, constantly feeling that he was letting everyone down, particularly his parents.

" _So, you're not disappointed?"_ Will asked as he smudged a tear back into the corner of his eye.

" _What... how could I be disappointed? Did ya not see yerself last night... that audience were stunned... I couldn't have been prouder."_ Bill beamed as he pulled his son towards him for a hug. _"Have ya any idea what I would do to have yer spirit... to have a never say die attitude like that?_

" _But that's not what they expect me to be! They want me to fly or see through walls!"_ Will rambled as pushed his father away and stomped off.

" _Nobody does... that's just a few loonies talking. Look... look at me!"_ Bill demanded, moving towards his son until Will had no choice but to look at him.

" _I'm not much good at advice or doing the father-son talk thing but all I know is that in life, when the time is right, things happen. I don't know why or how but I've seen it many times, just when things are going wrong, just when you think there's no hope, the clouds suddenly part, the sun starts to shine and all those things that once worried us and bother us suddenly make sense. Trust me, you arrived just in time for me. It meant I was finally able give up that stinking job!"_

" _What stinking job?"_ Will wondered as his father broke eye contact.

" _Oh, I'm not supposed to talk about that..."_ Bill was suddenly flustered and trying to shut the conversation down.

"... _about what..."_ Will prodded. _"Talk about what?"_

" _It's supposed to be a secret."_ Bill hesitated, thinking carefully about his next move. " _Can I trust ya? Can I?"_ Bill wondered as he tilted his head slightly to the right.

" _Trust me with what? What is it? What's the big secret?"_ Will asked, wearing a genuine look of concern and confusion.

## Chapter 21 - Who You Gonna Call?

With a slight reluctance, Bill fetched his mobile from the kitchen counter and flicked his thumb across the screen until he found what he was looking for. "I think this should explain why they wanted to keep my old job a secret." he sighed. As soon as he pressed play, a very deep and serious voice floated from the speakers in his phone,

" _What should you do when someone's pooped in your pool?_

What should you do when someone's plopped in your bath?

What should you do if you're fed up of cleaning up after your pets? You call Poopa Scoopas!"

Will flopped backwards into the sofa, gripped by riotous giggle. It was easily the funniest thing he had ever heard.

" _I'm glad yer amused!"_ Bill chuckled while also wincing slightly.

" _Poopa Scoopas, Poopa Scoopas!!!"_ Will squealed, bouncing feverishly upon the couch. "Was that really your job?"

" _Yes... for eight long years I scooped poop out of all sorts of places."_

Bill detested his job. When he was younger, his long, lean frame and his endless stamina helped him to become a highly rated long-distance runner. There were even whispers of him one day being good enough for the Olympics but one serious injury and three screws in his ankle meant Bill had to give up on his dream.

Sitting in his big, white van for hours on end, Bill waited for emergency calls while half-hoping his phone would never ring again. Once a call for a job did come through, he'd drive his van with the eye catching Poopa Scoopas logo splashed all along the side and all up the back to wherever he had been summoned. It even had the super-cringy slogan, "We'll scoop your poop!" splattered along the bonnet in big brown letters.

" _Did you give it up because of me then?"_ Will asked.

" _Not exactly... I quit well before you arrived! Your mother went crazy when I told her but I had to."_ Bill replied.

" _Why?" Will asked. "What happened?"_

" _Brown Tuesday happened."_ Bill revealed as he buried his head in his hands. It had been some time since Bill retold the story but every single, sorry detail still haunted him.

One Tuesday morning at the local swimming pool, a Mother & Toddler session was cut short as a highly contagious tummy bug swiftly wormed its way around the entire group of twenty mums and twenty tots. After a few, sudden tummy rumbles, what everyone hoped might be a quiet, under-water pop revealed itself to be a long, loud and very mucky avalanche. There was so much dynamite packed into those twenty bum bombs that they turned the blue water brown. Bill had never seen or smelled anything like it. No matter how hard he tried, he just could not wipe the horrific images and satanic smells from his memory.

" _It was quite easily the worst day of my life."_ Bill added as his son sat frozen still, enraptured by this gruesome tale.

By the time the "Poopa Scoopa" arrived, the public pool had become a stinking brown swamp. He would have been there for days - gagging and scrubbing, scrubbing and gagging but the second he saw it, he knew... it was time to flush his job down the bog. His days of scooping poop were done.

With no plan B and a baby on the way, Bill Stills quit! You can imagine how pleased Gill was. He had absolutely no idea how he was going to earn money but fortunately for him, he didn't have to worry as not long after, plan B (Will) arrived and Bill officially retired.

" _And you came just in time to make the clouds disappear and the sun came out and ever since everything has been so perfect!"_ Bill beamed.

Will was still troubled, _"But why does it have to be such a secret?"_

" _Well, believe it or not. I actually knew Mr. Ruperts before ya were born because I used to clean his pool every week. His little boy, Lord, was only four or five at the time... and he had a terrible habit of squeezing out a fleet of submarines every time he went paddlin' so I often got emergency calls to drive out there and clean it up."_

" _So that's why you couldn't tell anyone?"_

" _No... it wasn't because of the job. I think it was because they didn't want people thinking it was a fix - that we won the mansion and the money because I knew Mr. Ruperts. He said it might look like too much of a coincidence."_ Bill rambled, seeming to be somewhat unclear of the reasons himself. (You know he would never question Mr. Ruperts)

" _But how could it... it's not like he could control when I was born._ " Will wondered.

" _Of course, of course. But some people get funny about these things. So, we had to sign a contract to say we wouldn't tell anyone and everything about the company was deleted... except for the radio advert I've kept on my phone. Remember, you must not tell anyone!"_ Bill repeated once more.

" _Don't worry Dad, I won't_... _I don't think I'd want anyone to know anyway."_ Will assured.

" _Well maybe we've just discovered your hidden talent..."_ Bill suggested.

"What?" Will wondered.

"... _keeping secrets."_ his dad replied with a wink.

## Chapter 22 – Frowny Face

In April of that year, ViewYou released a fancy, glossy picture book filled with exclusive photos capturing every "special" moment of Will and Megan's first nine years on earth. It was stuffed with everything from embarrassing baby pics full of dribbly faces and silly bubble bath hair styles, all the way up to the slop covered children who rushed for stars at the recent big bash.

This limited-edition book was launched into the world with a special 9am Meet'N'Greet event in a swanky four-storey book shop. Hundreds of people queued all night in the hope of getting a signature or at least a peek at the world's most famous children.

While both families sat along one very long table on the top floor of the red-brick building, Scott and Tony hovered behind, flexing their muscly biceps and shooting intimidating scowls at anyone who outstayed their welcome or got a bit huggy. Fussing with her clipboard, Tracey was also on hand to help wave people through and answer any awkward questions the families wished to avoid.

Though nearly nine and a quarter, Will had not yet mastered his superstar signature so he preferred to draw a big smiley face on everyone's book with a shaky _W.S._ underneath. After many hours of nodding, smiling and signing, Will's wrist was beginning to ache and Scott had noticed, " _Master Stills, please let us know if you'd like a rest_. _You are permitted to take a break."_

Though Will's wrist was aching, he was loving all the attention. Lines and lines of teenage girls smiled big metal grins and waved frantically until they finally got near him. Every one of them stuffed the memory space in their camera phones with blurry pictures of the blond, blue eyed boy from any angle they could get. " _We love you Will!" "Marry me Will!"_ they shouted before collapsing into a group giggle.

As they finally reached the table, everyone gushed about how much they loved these Janu-babies,

Megan, you're so amazing! I can't wait for you to be president.

It's so amazing to meet you Will, I've got a picture of you above my toilet!

Hi Megan, can I come visit your house and bounce on your bouncy castle?

_Will, for the last five years, I've asked Santa if I could be just like you_.

The children just smiled, said thank you and signed the hard-back, over-priced books as quickly as they could, hoping the friendly strangers would soon go away. Most people got the hint, but not everyone.

" _Oh my god, I can't believe it's you. Will, you're so awesome! I retweeted your photo like 5 million times. Can you please sign my book and make it out to D. M. Fellows?"_ asked one particularly excited and fully-grown fan.

" _I'm sorry sir but Will won't be doing personalised messages."_ warned Tony in a very matter of fact manner.

" _Why am I not surprised?"_ the stranger suddenly spurted in a very accusing tone. _"You've no idea how lucky you are. It should be me sitting there, not you! If I'd been born just three minutes earlier, I would have all your fame and all your money!"_

" _Excuse me sir,"_ Tracey interjected, _"Please move along, we've got a lot of people waiting."_

" _Go on superstar! If I can retweet your pic a million times, I'm sure you can write just one personal message."_ the fan threatened before he suddenly grabbed Will's hand.

His knuckles were white and his fingers were stiff as he tried to force the boy to write the message he had requested. Before Will could even process what was happening, Scott and Tony scooped the man up by his underarms and guided him out of the building. Though the burly boys could control his movement, they could not control his mouth, " _You don't deserve it! It should be me sitting there! I should have been the January 7_ th _miracle! I should have won that..."_ he noisily raged before he suddenly went quiet mid-sentence. Scott and Tony must have somehow discovered his off switch. Tracey promptly paused proceedings to ensure Will and everyone else was okay.

" _I think we've had enough for today."_ a very protective and rather shaken Gill informed Tracey.

" _Whilst I appreciate it's a bit upsetting Mrs. Stills, a lot of money has gone into putting this event together. Mr. Ruperts will insist we stay here until the line is finished. We have sales targets to meet."_ she snapped rather coldly.

Of course, they all had to stay but for the rest of the Meet'N'Greet, Scott and Tony were on full alert for anyone who might be acting strangely. By the end of the day, Mr. Ruperts must have been delighted that ViewYou had met their book sale targets but after the incident with D.M Fellows, Will's smiley face signature wasn't quite so smiley.

## Chapter 23 – Twits Tweeting

" _Dad, please can I check your phone and see if I've caught up with Megan on the tweeter thing?"_ Will inquired one Saturday afternoon in July.

" _In a second_!" Bill shouted back from the toilet under the stairs in a slightly strained voice. _"Wait until I'm with you. I don't want you checking it on your own."_

Throughout that year, the Janu-baby's twitter following grew to ridiculous proportions.

@January7thWill and @January7thMegan became the world's most popular accounts – even more popular than Katy Perry, Justin Bieber and the President of America. Of course, marvellous Megan still had a few more. Her 112 million followers dwarfed Will's 108 million.

Though it seemed everyone loved Megan Drizzlecott, one particular person wasn't quite so head over heels.

Before turning nine, Will had never felt envious of anyone. But his neighbour was really starting to crawl under his skin. Although he knew it wasn't her fault, he just could not fight it. Everything he did was compared to her. He could not brush his teeth without someone declaring that Megan could scrub 18% quicker... that her teeth were 23% whiter. He had even started to consider the possibility that she was the whirlwind cyclone he kept dreaming about... cutting across his path and sucking up everything that blocked her way.

" _Well, let's see,_ " said Bill as he flicked his wet hands dry, picked up his phone and tapped his way to what he was looking for. _"Mmm, not really, still a few million off but you do have some new messages from your fans."_

" _Oh, let's see, let's see!"_ pleaded Will, almost pulling the phone from his father's freshly washed hands.

Each day, the children got hundreds of messages from people who were desperate to meet them.

" _Wow, look at this, @HappyJanuary7th has got a tattoo of your face on his shoulder and has sent a picture of it, saying, "Will Stills is my inspiration. #Janubabycrazy,"_ Bill pronounced, feeling strangely proud.

" _Really? Let me see! Let me see!"_ Will persisted, still jumping, still trying to snatch the phone _. "... eh, that doesn't look like me. The face is all smushed."_ Will moaned before quickly checking the living room mirror to confirm that his face didn't actually look like a withered pumpkin.

Not all of the messages were quite so pleasant. Bill tried his best to protect his son from those messages but he couldn't guard his phone all day, every day. Every chance he got, Will tried to sneak a peek. He'd flick his thumb across the screen, scroll through all the comments but then really wish he hadn't. The one he definitely wished he hadn't seen was from @bellybuttonfluff23,

@January7thWill – everyone thinks he's superman and then he takes a dump on TV! More like pooperman! #loser #turdbirthday #noonecares

Rather oddly, one particularly persistent person tweeted Will every morning at the exact same time. At 8.35 am, @OkaasanHaHa17 would send a little, red heart icon. Just that, no comments, nothing else. When Will scrolled down the screen, it was always there, just a little red heart at 8.35 for however many days he managed to search through before his dad appeared around a corner and caught him messing with his phone.

" _Just checkin' the time."_ Will would lie, thinking he was clever though his father knew exactly what his son was up to.

## Chapter 24 – Twirling Nightmares

The night before his tenth birthday, Will was absurdly restless.

Every time he closed his eyes, the tornado started spinning. He could barely blink without seeing it.

As the year progressed, the twirling nightmares worsened. There was a time when it woke him once or twice a night but now – a good night's sleep was like gold dust. The second he began to snooze; the winds would whirl and suck him up into the air... twirling him... spinning him... churning his stomach. Though in the dream he would scream and shout for help, the deafening roar of the storm drowned everything out.

That night his mind was as full as a skip – and the tornado was crammed with everything he had come to fear.

Big Bash #10 was creeping closer and though it once kept him awake with giddy anticipation, a big ball of pre-birthday dread was now gyrating around in the pit of his stomach.

First came the large 07 from the studio stage, slowly creeping apart, offering him shelter from the whirling winds but just as he grabbed on, they suddenly smashed shut.

Then came the monster presents, spinning uncontrollably around him yet always too far from his reach. They would grow and swell before exploding open with a thunderous wallop, covering him in brown gunk and releasing all sorts of hideous creatures who glared at him and snorted at him with their menacing eyes.

Next up was the King of Cooking Oil, twisting through the air while screeching in his bumpy, jumpy voice, " _I Love Megan! I Love Megan!_ " over and over again.

Then came the giant score board which smashed into him every time it circled the spiral ... flashing in bright neon green, Will – BIG FAT ZERO, Megan – 4,569.

Worst of all was the talking, floating heads that whirred all around him, spitting and goading and mocking –

D. M. Fellows screamed, _"It should have been me!"_

Megan wailed _, "I'm the real January 7_ th _Miracle."_

Even Bill Stills raged, _"I expected so much more from my son!"_

Will awoke with a start. His breathing was heavy and his pyjamas were drenched in sweat. Though he desperately tried to summon up the courage to escape the dark and flick on his bedroom light, he was too afraid to move. His was paralysed with fear.

" _This would be the perfect time to discover I really do have super powers!"_ Will whispered into the dark.

Foolishly, he tried clicking his fingers and clapping his hands in the hope that he could somehow control electricity or at least move the light switch with his mind.

Will pushed his thumb close to his middle finger and breathed deep...

_Click!_... Nothing.

_Click!......_ Nothing.

_Click!........._ Nothing.

The light didn't arrive.

The darkness remained.

" _Clear your mind you must!"_ the voice of Yoda, Master-Jedi, crept into Will's head to offer some timely advice.

" _Okay!"_ Will thought to himself. _"Clear my mind. Clear my mind!"_

Breathing out, Will closed his eyes and tried to drain his brain of all his fear while summoning all his energy into the tips of his fingers.

He clicked one last click that echoed loudly across the room...

_CLICK!_............ Nothing. Nada. Zip.

If anything, the darkness got deeper.

Pulling his bed sheets high above his head, Will wrapped them around him extra tight. By now, they were almost a second skin, a cotton coat of armour.

" _I'm sorry."_ Will cried into the dark. _"I'm sorry I'm not the January 7_ th _miracle you all expected."_

Twisting his tense body, he rolled his head over and back his pillow as the nettling noise of three hundred cheering, jeering faces stung his ears before 40 million hands grew through a gigantic TV screen, grasping at him, fingering his face, trying to steal his smile.

" _I have to get out of here."_ Will whispered breathlessly as his tight chest rose and fell, struggling for the air it needed.

After what felt like three centuries of battling the tornado, Will surrendered. It was 4am and the light behind the curtains hadn't yet begun to shine but he'd had enough. He was getting up.

He had to get this horrible day started, get through it and get it out of the way.

Not wanting to disturb his peaceful parents, he carefully crept downstairs. He knew he had to get to the kitchen door quickly before Sit started whining or even worse, barking. The puppy hated being locked in the kitchen at night and would make an awful racket as soon as he heard someone creeping about or could see light shining through the bottom of the door.

Stretching his right leg over the creaky, bottom step, Will tip toed as quietly as he could along the hallway. It was so dark, he could barely see where he was going but as he reached for the handle of the kitchen door, it was missing.

The cold, brass handle was gone. So too was the door.

" _What the... who stole the door?"_ Will thought as he started to wonder if he was having one of those dreams where things seem normal but then gets a little but weird. Pawing the wall to his left, Will flicked on the kitchen light and saw that door had not vanished, it was there... just open. But something was missing.

Sit.

" _Dad!! Dad!!"_ Will screamed as he rampaged up the stairs... bounding two steps at a time. Silent mode has been switched to Fire Alarm mode as he wailed all the way to his parent's room and bundled through the door.

" _DAAAAD!!!"_ Will bellowed as his father shot bolt upright in the bed.

" _What... what... what have I won?"_ Bill asked, plucking the eye mask from his head.

" _Sit is gone... he's not in the kitchen and I've checked all the other rooms. He's gone!"_ Will screeched as a sob broke across his throat.

Bill threw his dressing gown over his shoulders, took his son's hand and led him down the stairs. "Don't worry... I'm sure he's not got far."

" _But where is he?"_ Will queried as his sleepy-eyed mother now joined them in the hallway.

" _We'll see! Did you let him in last night?"_ Bill asked Gill. " _You went to bed after me."_

" _Of course I did, I'm not going to leave him out in the cold!"_ Gill snapped back as she turned on the outside light and slid the patio door open.

" _Sit! Sit! Sit!"_ the Stills family yelled in unison. Their warm breath fogging the cold air around them.

Nothing came running.

Nothing came panting.

Nothing came wagging.

" _Are you sure you've checked the house?"_ Gill asked, her tone now more anxious than before.

" _Yes mum, every room. Even the study and the under-stairs toilet"_ Will replied.

" _Well, let's just check again. You know what he's like, he gets in behind everything."_

Splitting up, the Still family wandered around their cut-in half house shouting, _"Here Sit!" "Come Sit!" "Where are you Sit?"_

But Sit was nowhere to be found.

" _I'll pop out and see who is on security tonight. Maybe Scott or Andy have seen him."_ Bill suggested as he walked towards the front door, pulling his dressing down tighter around his waist.

But Bill was soon stopped in his tracks.

" _What the...?"_ the flustered father wondered aloud.

" _What's wrong dad?"_ Will asked.

" _The front door is open... it looks closed but it's not."_

As Bill turned back into the hallway, he was greeted by two wrinkled brows and upturned mouths.

## Chapter 25 – The Pup-Napping Plan

" _Boy!"_ Benedict Ruperts screamed down the phone " _Did you know anything about this missing dog?"_

Wow, was he hopping mad. He was amusingly livid, comically seething and Lord had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing back down the phone.

" _Of course not,"_ Lord coolly replied _. "How would it have anything to do with me?"_ he lied.

" _This has your finger prints all over it! That boy is just nine and if I find out you had anything to do with this, you will not only never run this company, you won't even clean the toilets!"_ he threatened before abruptly slamming the phone into the receiver. As the line went dead, Lord finally erupted into the over the top cackle that had been bubbling up his throat.

" _Well if I had a pound for every time you threatened that, I'd have enough to buy the company from you."_ Lord shouted down the line to no one _. "You know it was me... but you'll never be able to prove it. I'm too careful. Scott was the best man for the job and I knew he'd do it because you never pay any of your staff what they deserve."_

Lord's face was almost as red as the phone in his hand as he continued to spill it all out to the dead dial tone in his ear. _"I gave him the key for the front door and told him exactly what he needed to do. Nobody was ever going to get hurt – just a little startled! My Will vs. Megan idea has pulled millions back to their TV screens and my next brainwave is going to bring millions more. What better than the night before the 10_ th _big birthday bash to have the stars of the show feeling worried and wary? That idiot boy's precious little pup would go missing for just a few hours until the show was over. Make it look like he got out and then some helpful stranger finds him and brings him home. Every fool will come flocking to their TV's at 7pm to see if their poor little Janu-baby is okay."_

The phone was no longer by Lord's ear. He was holding it out before him and screaming into it as if it was his father's wrinkled face.

" _That's all you care about. Isn't it? You care more about those two brats than you do about me. But it was me that had news reporters at the scene, spilling out of their vans before the Stills family even called the police. It's because of me that it made the morning papers, the morning news. Everybody's spent the entire day wondering and worrying where that dimwit dog has run away to!"_

His spit-ball screaming was growing hoarse but his temper was still on the rise.

" _And we have the exclusive. Only ViewYou can answer everyone's questions and put their little minds to rest. If they want to know, they must watch the tonight's show! You see. Simple and brilliant. Tonight, we will have millions more and it's all because of me. I should be congratulated! Cheered! Applauded! There should be a statue of me outside that studio, there should be special programmes celebrating my genius and yet all you can think to do is moan and shout and whine. Just you wait and see what I have in store for your little darlings tonight!"_

Lord dumped the phone into the receiver and steadied his trembling hands.

" _Just you wait and see what happens tonight father. We will have the exclusive... the whole world will see what those two brats really are capable of!"_

## Part 3 – A Boy Turns Ten
## Chapter 26 – Tantrums at Ten

Little sleep and his best friend now missing: what a way to start your 10th birthday!

Mix two tired eyes and one troubled mind with several big blobs of dread and Will Stills was teetering on the edge of a most terrible tantrum. After a long morning of searching and worrying and speaking to the police, there was no time for the typical birthday treats; no presents, no cards, no crisps.

Only three mouthfuls of Coco Pops had made it as far as his stomach when Carlysle's sharp BEEP! BEEP! signalled that it was time for the annual trek to ViewYou studios.

" _Do I really have to?"_ Will thought to himself as he shoved one final, heaped spoon of chocolate coated rice into his mush.

" _Yes, we have to..."_ Bill insisted. _"... and don't worry. Scott and Tony said they will keep looking and they've put posters up all over the area!"_

Will would have preferred to share a bath with a starving shark but the prospect of those perfectly cool, doughy circles just about nudged him through the door.

" _Hey Master Stills. Sorry to hear about Sit going missing!"_ Carlysle consoled. _"We will find him. Don't you worry. Have a look there on the seat and you'll find something that should cheer you up."_

Carlyle was trying desperately hard to lift Will's spirits but it wasn't working.

The birthday boy didn't even respond. He smiled the smallest of smiles, nodded his head towards the driver and heaved himself into the car before collapsing into his leather seat. With his last ounce of energy, he plucked up the gift.

" _Thanks, Carlysle."_ Will mumbled half-heartedly as he randomly flicked through the 7th issue of the original Star Wars comic. It should have set his tail wagging but all he could think of was Sit.

" _You sure you like it?"_ Carlysle wondered, sounding slightly hurt. _"I gotta admit, I had a little read of it myself before I wrapped it up and it's a cracker. A classic. You'll whizz through it."_

The prospect of reading was not all that pleasing to this bothered boy; his eyes burned and he could hardly think straight. Hauling his legs up onto the seat, he drooped his drowsy head against the cushioned walls of the car. Though he hoped to use the drive to continue the search for Sit, as soon as the shining alloys began to spin, Will's eye lids began to drift downwards. Whether he wanted to or not, his body was calling for sleep. Chattering adults and the purr of the motor combined to form the lullaby he needed. Before they had reached the front gate of Ruperts Road, the birthday boy was snoring ever so gently.

But the storm soon started. After just a few minutes peace, Will was stirred by the cyclone. Sit was caught up in the swirl... whining and barking... begging for Will to save him. Will reached and stretched and tried to fight the storm but it was no good. As he woke, a whispering filled his ears. It was sharp and fast and he thought for a moment it was the howling winds of the hurricane but it wasn't. It was his mother's whispering voice. It had been itching within his ears for some time before he finally woke.

" _We have to make sure he never..."_

As she spotted her son's eyes twitching, Gill quickly zipped her lips shut.

" _I can never what?"_ Will drooled, his tongue slightly stuck to his teeth.

" _Oh, nothing pet... wasn't talking about you, just chatting about... Sit... we can never let this happen again. When he gets home... we will make sure he sleeps in your room... or our room."_ she fibbed without flow.

" _Definitely my room."_ Will replied, blindly accepting his mother's lie.

As soon as they arrived at ViewYou studios, a semi-rested Will sprinted straight for the buffet. He had been scoffing his way through these treats for nine years but he would never tire of them – not even after a million years.

Today, the buffet was a timely tonic for a terrible night – heaps and piles of gorgeous, gleaming remedies.

A kingdom of cakes!

A city of sweets!

A metropolis of marshmallows!

Magnifying the magic, the lights within the mini fridges created a heavenly glow that made the delicious, doughy rings of revelry look completely irresistible! Not that the King of all these Kingdoms needed much persuading.

Instantly, King Stills demanded that one of his humble servants (Bill) fetch him his most treasured treat. At least twice a day, every day, Will dreamed about these delicious delights but he knew that after today, his COUNTDOWN TO ICE CREAM DONUTS would reset back to 364.

As soon as the mini fridge door clicked open, Will summoned one particularly majestic golden ring coated in crisp, yellow icing towards him. Snatching it from his lingering minion, he immediately positioned the circle of yum before his giddy lips. Gently closing his eyes, he widened his jaw and jammed it in! All of it! Right in!

The sweet icing? Tick!

The soft dough? Tick!

The cold ice-cream? NO!!!

NO TICK!!!

THE OPPOSITE OF TICK!!!

" _What is that_?" Will growled as he spewed the half-chewed contents of his mouth straight on to the floor.

It wasn't cold! It wasn't sweet! It was anything but wonderful!

" _EEurrgghh, the ice cream's gone off!"_ the fussy emperor protested as his mother darted towards him with a handful of tissues.

" _No love. It's not ice-cream. The label by the fridge says tropical fruit yoghurt_." she explained calmly while scooping up the fruit flavoured glob from the floor.

" _It's disgusting – why would they break it? It was perfect. I want an ice-cream donut! Not a yoghurt donut!"_ Will yelled slightly louder than he anticipated. He really was fuming.

" _Here, just eat these, they'll keep you quiet."_ his mum said, shoving a big barrel of cheese puffs into his arms.

Will did not want cheese puffs. Or any crisps for that matter. In fact, in that moment, Will thought the best place for the cheese puffs was mixed in with the tropical yoghurt on the floor. Without warning, he swung his arms up towards the bottom of the barrel and sent it flying from Gill's hands, spilling through the air. As everyone stood around mesmerised by the orange confetti, the crisps were not the only thing being thrown.

Will Stills was throwing a terrible tantrum.

As the plunging cheese puffs tickled the feet of the Stills family, they were further surprised as a shower of torrential screams broke from their son's throat.

Clutching the edge of the buffet table, Will dug his nails into the cloth and shook it violently. Everything resting upon it rattled – shaking plates loitering near the edges tumbled onto the floor while the wobbling bowls struggled to keep hold of their contents.

Stamping his feet and shaking his head, Bad Mood Boy was squealing into the air around him. Digging his fingers further and further in, he was clinging to the table as if it kept him from falling off a cliff edge.

" _Will, please! Stop this!"_ a slightly frightened Gill pleaded with her son. _"This isn't like you at all!"_

" _I don't care what I'm like! I want an ice-cream donut!"_ he squealed.

This commonly cool cat, this customarily calm character, this severely smooth son of Stills was erupting and exploding like never before. The laid-back boy was spitting like an apoplectic Catherine wheel.

As the screaming grew louder, it was clear that Gill's attempt to calm the situation had failed.

Bill attempted to seize his son's hands and pull him from the table but in the struggle, he slipped in the yoghurt and slid down beneath the table with a thud. Will hardly noticed – his face was now aflame.

" _DONUT! DONUT! DONUT!"_ he ranted and chanted over and over again – louder each time he yelped.

Even the little light at the back of the fridge was unsettled by all this commotion. Flickering and blinking, the baby bulb began flashing - quite slow at first but as Will's chanting got louder and louder, the blinking seemed to get faster and faster until it finally POPPED!

At the very same moment, as if the bulb had somehow broken his fury, the stormy ten-year-old suddenly calmed. But it wasn't the cracking glass that did it. It was the sight of a frantic Tracey hurtling towards him as if she was carrying a bomb only seconds from detonating. Complete with a strained, panicked look upon her face, she beheld a tray full of treasures: the ice cream donuts that the furious King demanded.

Barely bothering to chew, Will instantly inhaled three - one after another, hardly pausing for breath. Trying to rub her son's tense shoulders, Gill threw a _"What was that about...?"_ look towards her equally befuddled husband who could only shrug and shake his head while hopelessly smearing yellow yoghurt into his beige chinos. As Will reached for a forth, nobody dared argue or advise otherwise. They were just grateful that Storm Boy had settled and that Tracey arrived when she did.

She was lucky. Everyone was. If she had been a second later, that bomb might well have gone off and Will would have wrecked the place.

The January 7th miracle was already having a birthday to forget and next series of Will Vs. Megan challenges had not even begun.

## Chapter 27 – A Most Familiar Box

" _Hello world and welcome to the BIG... BIRTHDAY... BASH!!!"_ Simeon boomed in his rattle-bag voice as every clock around the country claimed it was 7pm. This year, his hair was so long and so greasy that it tickled his shoulders while the super-tight orange waistcoat made him look like he was sporting a super-fashionable life jacket _._

" _Wow, don't you all look wonderful tonight!"_ the hairy life jacket gushed _. "Happy January 7_ th _to you all and I'm sure you'll join me in wishing our Janu-babies, Will aaannnnddddd Megan a HAPPY TENTH BIRTHDAY!"_

With his nightmare still fresh in his mind, Will skipped hurriedly between the giant 07 as soon as the gap was wide enough. He really didn't fancy getting squished... not on his birthday.

As the Stills and Drizzlecotts took their usual places, Mr. Oily-Locks instantly set upon Will, poking a furry microphone in his face,

" _And how are you young man? We were so worried when we heard about Sit? How are you feeling now? Is there any news on Sit? Has he been found?"_ badgered Mr. Deeply Concerned.

Pushing and pestering, Simeon wouldn't rest until he got what he wanted; Will retelling the entire story so he could pull his ultra-concerned face while the audience tutted and groaned at just how distressing it all was (though neither the audience nor the presenter seemed to mind making Will relive it yet AGAIN.)

Will was not responding. He preferred to just eye-ball the man with all the stupid questions.

" _And do we know how he got out?"_ the prodding presenter plagued.

" _Eh, no, we don't Simeon,"_ Bill interjected, protecting his son. " _We hope that he just got lost and that nobody has taken him. If anyone does see him, please let us know and get him back to us."_

" _Well Will, it seems it's not all cloud and thunderstorms... there has at least been one silver lining to losing your little doggie!"_ Mr. Sensitive revealed much to the shock and surprise of all three Stills who had no idea what he was blabbing about _. "...your twitter following has soared. Since this morning, you've gained 3 million new followers which means you are now the most followed person on the planet. Isn't that amazing? And we've had so many tweets of support for you Will - literally thousands of wonderful messages. Let's take a look at one or two. Shall we?"_

White fluffy clouds floated upon the big screen as Simeon's jangly voice read them aloud,

" _@OkaasanHaHa17 said, "So sorry to hear that @January7thWill has lost his best friend. I'm sure he will be back soon!" Awww, isn't that just lovely. And we also had a message from @DudleyOSweete who said, "Terrible thing to wake up and your dog is missing. What a pity you called him Sit. You should have called him Come Home Now!"_ Simeon giggledthem aloudm aloudl messages.person on the planetst of him was wrapped in 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189 189 189189

Simeon coughed out a foolish giggle while everyone sitting on the blue and pink couches glared back in steely, serious stares. Even his usually loyal audience had abandoned him – he was giggling alone.

" _So... anyway... join us after the break for our first big challenge of the year."_ he hurriedly announced, a little flustered by the awkward situation he had created.

While the millions watching were treated to three minutes of unmissable adverts, Will and Megan were coaxed off the couch and forced to stand in front of specially designed blue and pink podiums that had just emerged from the floor. Simeon scuttled backstage before promptly returning with another strange contraption: a multi-coloured spinning wheel. Although neither family really knew what was being prepared, Gill Stills had been assured that _"Will would have a birthday to remember"_ when she rang to give the chairman a piece of her mind after last year's debacle. A panicked Benedict Ruperts had to promise something as the mother of the January miracle went all CRAZY MOMMA - ranting down her mobile phone at the _"cold-hearted monster"_ who had " _ruined_ " her boy's birthday. Determined to keep his promise, Benedict lingered around the studio all day to ensure that Lord could not meddle with his plans for this year's show.

"... _And welcome back world. We are just about ready to begin part two of our BIG... BIRTHDAY... BASH!"_ Simeon swirled as the studio lights stretched their eyes wide open.

" _Yet again, we have some wonderful presents for our Janu-babies so let's get them out here."_

Again, the large sliding doors parted and the pretty ladies pushed out the gifts that were up for grabs. But this year, they weren't quite so large. In fact, the biggest one was titchier than last year's small present. Despite this strange shrinkage, Will desired it desperately. The moment this down-hearted boy spied it, he knew that losing this one was not an option.

He knew what it was. He could tell.

Even if it had been wrapped in fifty layers of bubble wrap, he knew exactly what the bigger present was. He knew that box better than he knew himself.

" _It's the Lego Death Star!"_ he whispered to his father, tugging at his sleeve. " _I'm sure it is!"_

" _What? Don't be daft! They're impossible to ge..."_ Bill hushed before being promptly shushed by his glaring wife.

Unbelievably, Will was right. Mr. Ruperts and his ViewYou team had somehow managed to get their hands on the super-rare, first edition Lego Death Star. In his short life, Will had never asked for anything but this was the one thing he truly craved. On eBay, it sells for over £3000 and Bill once thought he'd got if for a steal at £300. But as soon as the postman delivered the large box to No. 7 Ruperts Road, he quickly realised that he had in fact just bought... a box – an empty box of Lego for £300 (yet again he had failed to read the small print).

After trying (and failing) to resell it online (who else would be so stupid) Bill couldn't bear to part with it so he stored it in the attic. Every now and again, Will would sneak up there to look at it and feel it and imagine what it would be like to own it for real which is why he recognised the box so easily. After that, Gill insisted that her husband was never allowed to spend more than £50 on any one Lego set.

" _I can't believe it's right there."_ Will whispered to Bill, his heart pounding.

But, in his pounding heart, he knew that the empty box in the attic was as close as he was ever going to get to it, _"They'll never let me have it."_

## Chapter 28 – Spinning Lies

" _Now... in order to get your hands on these sur-prizes. You two will have a quiz off. You will each get three questions and whoever gets the most right gets one point on our..."_ Simeon trailed off,

" _SCOREBOARD_!!" the audience sneezed right on cue, still following their master's call.

With that, the giant scoreboard descended from the heavens but Will didn't care. He was focusing his mind, stretching out his arms, pumping his fist and doing everything he could to make sure a 1 would soon sit beneath his name. He was doggedly determined to make that BIG FAT ZERO disappear and take that Death Star home.

" _But before we get to our big birthday quiz, we need to decide what our topic will be!"_ Simeon explained. _"Now, on our wonderful spinner here, we have five different topics. We have Disney Classics, Cities of the World, Star Wars, Roald Dahl and Presidents of the Past. But we can choose only one – and I wonder who could help us with this difficult decision?"_ the awful actor asked while rubbing his chin. Not picking up the stench of Simeon's stinking acting, two poor children in the front row actually put their hands up to volunteer but the choice had long been made.

" _Let's see!"_ he continued, dragging this quandary on for far too long. _"We need someone to roll the wheel but who could we get to do it? We can't just have anyone. We really need someone special."_ Simeon gassed while Will whispered to himself, _"Just hurry up and make sure it's not presidents of the past!"_

"... _and who better to spin the wheel than the man who brought all of us here today."_

Some people were now convinced he was talking about God. They genuinely thought God was coming to spin the wheel. But God wasn't coming. God was busy.

" _Can you please give a warm welcome to VIEWYOU Chairman, Mr. Benedict Ruperts!!!"_ Mr. Swingy Arms announced while the audience roared as if they had all just won a 50-inch, 3D, Ultra HD TV.

On strolled Benedict Ruperts, looking resplendent in a stony grey, three-piece suit and a charming, shining smile. Making a bee-line for the children, he powerfully pumped their hands and wished them a _"very happy birthday"_ before he met Simeon in the centre of the stage.

" _Good evening Mr. Ruperts! Thank you so much for joining us tonight Sir! It's a real pleasure to have you with us!"_ Simeon gushingly spurted at his boss as if he actually was God.

" _No problem at all."_ the chairman replied. _"I can't tell you how pleased I am to be here, to be celebrating ten years of these two remarkable children."_

" _You're right Sir! It is hard to believe."_ Simeon remarked as if talking to his maths teacher. _"And what's more amazing is that since these two came along, not a single other child has been born on January 7_ th _."_

" _Yes, yes... it shows how remarkable they truly are."_ Benedict concluded.

" _Yes indeed.... and so... Mr. Ruperts, can I please ask you to give our wheel a spin?"_

With that, the millionaire reached up and yanked the top of the wheel downwards.

" _I've got a bad feeling about this."_ Will groaned. His long run of awful luck was suffocating any hint of optimism. Though he had a one in five chance, he really didn't like those odds.

As Benedict pulled the wheel, it instantly plunged downwards and trundled ferociously, ticking wildly as the audience wafted out their thoughtless " _oooohhhhs_ " and " _aaaaaahhhhs_ ". After ten seconds, the wheel began to slow and Will crossed all his fingers and toes that the arrow would somehow land on Star Wars. To his right, marvellous Megan was squeezing her hands together in prayer - hoping for Presidents of the Past (She'd studied them all and despised every one of them.)

" _ooh, it's... it's..."_ Simeon repeated, adding to the tension.

The arrow was beginning to tire. The ticking was growing louder, slower; the wheel was coming to a stop. Travelling through the Cities of the World, it was now just two clicks away from Star Wars but would it have enough juice left in the tank to get that far?

" _Please stop! Please stop!"_ Will pleaded silently, really hating anything that spun.

It turned past Disney Classics and was heading towards Star Wars but would it stop? It was still edging forward ... too far forward.

" _Typical!"_ Will spat as he kicked the ground in frustration.

It could only be a split-second from stopping and it looked like those dead presidents were about to be reborn. As if she was controlling it with her mind, the arrow seemed certain to stop right in the middle of Megan's perfect choice and Will could not believe it,

" _What do I know about presidents?_!" Will worried.

With his spirits crushed, Will threw his arms into the air in exasperation but suddenly the tiring pointer was rejuvenated. It was speeding up. As if it had a mind of its own, it was now...

... spinning super-fast.

Will felt dizzy trying to follow it while Simeon stammered and yammered with not a clue what to do or say. Three hundred heads rotated with it until it suddenly stopped dead and landed on... that galaxy far, far away.

" _YEsssss_!" Will shouted, almost tumbling from his podium as the audience burst into a flame of giggles at the ridiculousness of this gravity defying spinning wheel.

" _Okay Will, don't get too excited. These questions are pretty tricky! Not sure what happened to the wheel... Mr. Ruperts must have put a bit of back spin on it there."_ Simeon rambled, spitting out the first thing that came into his head. Even Mr. Ruperts looked a little red-faced as he waved to the audience and headed backstage now his job was complete.

" _Thank you Mr. Ruperts – you really know how to spin a wheel."_ Simeon gushed, still trying to make light of this strange situation.

" _So... anyway... Question 1 is multiple choice. As always, Ladies first! So, Megan, can you please tell me the full name of the Princess in Star Wars, Episode 4? Is it A – Princess Fiona B – Princess Leia or C – Princess Jasmine?"_

" _I don't know who it is but I know it's not Jasmine or Fiona so I'll say... B!"_ Megan cleverly deducted.

" _Correct! One point to Megan."_ Simeon beamed as the audience of trained sea-lions clapped and cheered.

" _Now, Will, your first question is this. What is the name of the planet that is indigenous to a population of cute, cuddly bears?"_ Simeon asked. _"Is it A- Bespin B – Coruscant or C...?"_

Will had no idea what indigenous meant but he did know the answer.

" _C! Endor!!"_ Will burst out before Simeon provided the final option.

Round One. All square.

" _So on to round two and again we start with the little lady. Han Solo's co-pilot Chewbacca is a species of what? Is it a – Wookie.... b – Bothan... or c – Gungan?"_

Chewing heartily on her bottom lip, Megan instantly shot " _HELP ME!"_ glances towards her mum and dad. She hadn't a clue. Not a notion, not even a fifth of a notion. This time her powers of deduction were of no use as she didn't know any of these strange, alien words.

" _Wookie sounds completely ridiculous,"_ she sniped as the millions watching awaited her response. _"At least the other two sounded like a species of something."_

" _I'm going to have to push you for an answer Megan,"_ Simeon pressed. The poor girl had now chewed off most of her bottom lip trying to figure it out.

" _Emmm...."_ Megan stalled, trying to buy herself a few more seconds. _"Is it.... C – Gungan."_

" _Oh no, I'm afraid Chewbacca is in fact a Wookie, it was A. Megan, I'm really sorry. Hard luck,"_ the TV clown commiserated.

" _Now... over to Will. This is your chance to take a lead_." The sweaty orange encouraged while Will's eyes widened and his fists pulled tighter.

" _Will! As captain of the Millennium Falcon, Han Solo is famous for completing the Kessel Run in a record time. But what was that record? Was it A – 18 parsecs. B – 11.5 parsecs or C – 14 parsecs."_

" _Oh, I know this!"_ Will squealed _"But..."_ before he promptly fell quiet as he stumbled upon his confusion. He did know it because Han Solo always bragged about it but in The Force Awakens, Rey asked Han if it was true and he said it was but he corrected her on the time and now he couldn't remember which one was which. He knew it wasn't 18. He knew that was the standard time for most spaceships and most pilots but not for Han and the Falcon. He had a 50/50 chance of guessing it right but with his rotten luck, he knew he could not risk it. Every time he went towards a swinging door that didn't have a push/pull sign, he always got it wrong – he always pushed when he should have pulled and always pulled when he should have pushed.

" _Will, I'm going to have to press you. Some of us do need to get home tonight_." Simeon teased.

" _Ehmmm..."_ Will stalled (learning from Megan's clever tactics) " _Ehhmmm... C - 14!"_

" _That is... not correct. I'm sorry Will. It was in fact B - 11.5."_ Simeon soothed as the audience _ooohed_ at how close Will was. Will Stills had yet again pushed the pull door and lost another 50/50. He really had no luck.

Round 2. All square.

" _On to round 3. No multiple choice this time I'm afraid kids so it's all down to you. Megan, what is the name of the Jedi who mentors Luke Skywalker in Episode IV, A New Hope?"_

Megan's eyes nearly popped out of her head. She knew this. Well, she remembered making fun of how silly it sounded and splitting her sides laughing as Will tried to pronounce it.

" _It has three parts to it and it sounds really, really silly_." she blurted out.

When Will had first said the name, she imagined a bumbling cartoon bear that got headaches after eating too much ice-cream but saying that out loud wasn't likely to win her many points. Though she could feel it, she just couldn't remember it.

" _Megan, I need an answer."_ Simeon pressed.

" _Ehhhm..._ " Megan mumbled, rolling out the old tactics. _"Ehhhm.... Oki Koo Ka...koki."_ she tried while wincing. It felt close but she knew it wasn't quite right.

" _No.... Megan, I'm sorrry. I'm afraid it wasn't Oki Koo Kakoki,"_ Simeon consoled while trying to hold in a giggle. _"It was in fact, Obi Wan Kenobi."_

As soon as Simeon spat it out, she knew it. But she would likely have been there for weeks trying to remember that strange mixture of vowels and consonants.

" _Right, Will. This is your chance to finally take a lead. One correct question and you're half way to winning that amazing present!"_

Will had never felt pressure like it. He had been starved of sleep and up to this point, the day had seemed like seven forevers but now his heart was pounding and his pulses were throbbing so fast. Victory was within his grasp but failure still lingered close behind.

" _Remember Will. This is a possible point-winning question. If you get this wrong, we go to sudden death."_ Simeon whispered, pumping up the tension a little further. _"Episode Six is known as Return of the Jedi but this wasn't always the intended title. Can you tell us please, for the winning point, what was the original title of Episode Six?"_

Simeon stared. The audience stared. Millions watching at home stared.

Bill Stills smiled.

He knew his boy had this and Will Still's face was draped in a Cheshire grin. The King of Loser Ville would finally get his hands on that point. His luck had finally changed. Will Stills finally had his REVENGE!

" _Simeon..._ " Will said – now hesitating for an altogether different reason – he wanted to milk this magical moment for as long as he could. _"I think the answer to the question is this. Return of the Jedi, Episode Six, was once known as...."_ He was sucking up every last drop. _"... REVENGE of the Jedi!!"_

" _That is... CORRECT!!!"_ Simeon screamed as the audience squealed like a bonfire-night sky.

Despite the high fives and hollering, Will was looking in only one direction... glaring at that massive scoreboard. A giddy shiver charged up his spine as the BIG FAT ZERO disappeared and was replaced by the most resplendent ONE Will had ever seen in his life.

He finally had a lead.

" _Make sure you join us after the break, we have still got so much more to come!_ " Simeon fizzed as the Stills family hugged him from behind.

## Chapter 29 – Wishes from Stars

While the millions watching at home were distracted by three minutes of adverts, Will marvelled at the miraculous scoreboard.

Though he revelled in his lead for the first two minutes, the pressure of protecting this advantage pumped higher and higher up his chest as the remaining sixty seconds ticked by. Megan could keep her pink bouncy castle and her bungee run, he did not care. He had one shaky hand on the gift he genuinely wanted to win and there was absolutely no chance of Little Miss Drizzlecott taking it home.

" _And welcome back to our BIG BIRTHDAY BASH. If you've just joined us, you have missed some real treats but don't worry, we've got so much left to unpack."_ the presenter prattled. _"But before we get to our second challenge of the evening, we have a really special treat for you two. We've already heard some of the messages from your fans here on earth but we've also got some messages from your fans who live in a galaxy far, far away."_

With that, the lights in the studio dimmed and the large screen above the stage lit up. Will whipped his head upwards so rapidly, he almost snapped it clean off his shoulders. A look of exhilarated delight broke across his face as the greatest Jedi in the galaxy, Luke Skywalker, looked directly at him and wished him a happy birthday. With his shoulder cloaked in Jedi robes and his face hugged by a thick, greying beard, the aging "New Hope" spoke,

" _Hey young Padawan! Wishing you a happy 10_ th _birthday Will Stills. You might be a huge fan of Star Wars but I can assure you that I am a massive fan of you. I was the first Jedi born in twenty years but you were the first human born on January 7_ th _in 57 years! I hope you're taking your training seriously, 'cause if you do, I'm sure you can become a Jedi master just like me. I've gotta go. R2D2's got himself stuck in the X-Wing. Happy Birthday Will and May the Force Be with You."_

Will might have just turned ten, but there was a fully-grown man-child squealing with delight sitting right beside him. The bulging eyes of Bill and Will Stills emitted awe-struck stares. They had watched him hundreds of times, built every version of his Lego figure, dressed like him, dreamed of him and now Luke Skywalker, their hero, had spoken to them.

Following the Jedi master, the American President popped up with a special message for Megan but Will hardly heard a word of what he said. He was still trying to process the fact that _the_ Luke Skywalker knew who he was. His disbelief then zoomed into hyper-speed when a very famous, very furry, walking carpet filled the screen. Complete with his trusty bow-caster, Chewbacca growled and grumbled in his native Wookiee language, Shyriiwook.

A gargle of _guurrrghhhs_ , _brrrwwhhhaaargghs_ and _wawworgghhs_ bounced around the studio. Will was so thrilled, his chest heaved up and down while a soppy lump swelled in his throat. Subtitles would have helped but everyone got the idea. The warbling Wookie was then followed by a favourite of both children, Mr. Green. Their tale-telling tutor warned them not to have too much fun,

" _Hey you two! Hope you have a great day and don't worry... I'll be calling around tomorrow to test you on your twelve times tables! And you better be ready!"_

The parade of familiar faces continued with kind messages from Scott & Tony, both sets of grandparents, a few aunties, uncles and cousins and a rather bizarre thirty seconds of Sit Stills and Buttercup Snuggles Drizzlecott barking and growling at the camera. The final flourish came from the King of ViewYou himself, Mr. Ruperts,

" _Will and Megan, I just want to say that I couldn't be prouder. It could have been anyone born on January 7_ th _but I'm so glad it was you two. You're both so, so special. Happy 10_ th _birthday and here's to the next decade."_

So far, the smiling old man had indeed kept his promise.

Will was having a birthday to remember.

## Chapter 30 – Falling to Pieces

Though he spent the entire night dreading the Big Bash, Will was actually having a BIG BLAST!

Despite the warm, fuzzy glow currently buzzing around him, he feared the final challenge of the night could yet send him spiralling back into a tsunami of stroppy sulking.

" _Now before we roll out the giant cake and sing our Big Bash birthday song, we must find out who is taking home which present."_ Simeon summarised as skateboarding butterflies began to kick-flip and laser-dip around the ramps of Will's tense tummy.

From the skies above, the scoreboard descended and for a split second, a rather strange and perverse thought popped into Will's head,

" _I wish Megan had the lead."_

He had arrived at the studio that afternoon fully expecting to lose but now that he had a chance, now that he had the tips of a grip on that victory, he could not stomach the idea of losing. Will really hoped the car park elves were on stand-by. One of their surprise deliveries would be absolutely essential if he failed to win that Death Star.

" _Will, if you get this point, you will finally take home that biggest prize. If Megan wins, we go to sudden death."_ Simeon enlightened. _"So, without further ado, let's see what we have in store with our second challenge of the night."_

With that, two panels in the centre of the stage zipped open and two round cylinders, one pink and one blue, zoomed up out of the ground. A small box sat patiently upon each podium but from where he sat, Will couldn't quite make out what it was. With a whisk of his hand, Simeon invited the competitors forward to take their places. As Will stepped towards the mystery box and realised what it was, he immediately shut his eyes.

He had to... to stop them popping out of his head!

" _Oh my god! Lego X-wings!"_ he squealed, unable to contain his excitement.

" _Will and Megan. For your second challenge tonight, you are going to prove which of you is a true, master builder. You each have a new and unopened Mini Lego X-Wing with sixty-one pieces and whoever's closest to completion after five minutes will get that final precious point."_

Will's luck had definitely changed. All the previous challenges weren't really up his street but Star Wars trivia and Lego building wasn't just right up his street, it was right up his town, his world and his universe. If he'd had the opportunity to hand pick the challenges himself, he could not have done it better.

Tonight was his night. It had to be.

A booming buzzer gave Will, Megan and everyone else around them a horrible hop. Expecting to see flames, Will feared it was a fire alarm screaming " _RUN_!" but Megan knew better. She had already ripped open her box of Lego bricks and was busy flicking through the instructions.

Will may have been behind but he was in no rush. He and his dad had built the full-size X-wing from scratch. Instructions were hardly needed - he knew exactly what he had to do.

" _I bet Megan's never touched a Lego brick in her life."_ a dangerously confident Will thought to himself.

One by one, he organised the sixty-one pieces. He had never felt more at ease with the world. The gargantuan score board hovered directly above his head and he was sure it would only be a matter of time before that wonderful _1_ became a tremendous _2_.

As he finally finished sorting the pieces, Simeon bellowed, " _FOUR MINUTES LEFT!"_

Inhaling a deep breath, Will steadied and readied himself to put this 3d puzzle together. He was calm and he was ready until Simeon suddenly shouted,

" _So, Megan has a clear lead as she's built the entire base of the X-wing while Will has at least now grouped all the different shapes together."_ the presenter cruelly jested as his audience heartlessly giggled.

As Will swivelled his head to the left, his eyes did pop out of his head.

Simeon was not lying. Megan was light years ahead. Diving straight in, she hadn't foolishly wasted precious seconds sorting through all the pieces.

" _Stupid, dirty habit,"_ the daft, dippy dum-dum mumbled to himself.

Because it was always his job at home, Will had instinctively organised the pieces though there really was no need. He wasn't building the Battle of Hoth or the Millennium Falcon which had hundreds of pieces. Frantically flicking through the now **much** needed instruction booklet (he couldn't take any more risks) his heart fluttered around in his chest like a balloon in a hurricane. After trying to stick the first couple of pieces together, a further frightening realisation struck PANIC BOY - he was not a Lego builder. He was the Lego organiser, the sorter of Lego. His dad never let him put the bricks together.

" _These instructions are terrible – they're just pictures!"_ Will silently screamed within his own maddening mind. _"I'm goin' to lose._ _I'm actually goin' to lose."_

Despite a brief change in fortunes, it seemed his stinking, rotten luck was as stinking and rotten as ever. Scratching his head, Will needed his brain to stop napping.

" _How do I fix this? Now would be the perfect time for my powers to kick in... for the clouds to part, for the sun to shine!"_ the fearful boy panicked as he recalled his father's advice.

In an attempt to block out the beaming lights and staring faces, Will squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a desperately deep breath. Just before he moved to open his blinkers, the voice of Luke Skywalker echoed from somewhere in the back of his mind,

" _Use the force Will!_ "

In that moment, all fears were forgotten, all qualms were quashed, all doubts were defeated. Will was one with the force.

The studio, the scoreboard, the twisting tornado and everything else that wore him out and wore him down were promptly pulverised by a sharp shot of Still's grit. With eyes firmly shut, he began to click the bricks.

The size of Megan's lead was unclear but Will didn't care. He knew what he had to do. Since the day he was born, he had played with Lego. Bill may not have thought his son was ready to build X-Wings but Will had watched his father build it – piece by piece. He did not need instructions, he could see it in his head. He could build it blindfolded,

" _Two three dots"_... **click!**

" _Add a four square with a hole at the top"_... **click!**

" _Flip them over, add two double dot clips"..._ _click, click!_

" _And now it seems Will is making a comeback!"_ Simeon boomed, trying to break Will's concentration. But the force was strong in ten-year-old Stills. _"And he's doing it with his eyes closed. Well now I have seen it all."_ Simeon chuffed while the audience giggled at his clever play on words.

" _Three minutes left!"_ Mr. Punny Man boomed _._

" _Flip it back over, add smooth white bit to the front"..._ _click!_

" _Right wing – two-bit clip under three-bit triangle"..._ _click!_

Will Stills was a boy possessed. His left and right hand were working in perfect synchronicity. Carefully choosing only the bricks he needed, he looked like a fussy squirrel selecting only the best nuts before hibernation. He didn't waste a second thinking about what he needed to do next, he just knew. It seemed as instinctive as putting right foot before left.

" _Left wing – two-bit clip under three-bit triangle."_... _click_ **!**

" _Missile one, orange light fixed to front."_... _click!_

" _90 seconds left!"_ the human stop watch screeched.

Part of Will really wanted to check that he was doing it right but something inside him was keeping his eyes sealed shut. The pieces were all laid out. He knew where they were. He had to trust himself. If he opened his eyes, he knew the lights would blind him, the cameras would spook him and the audience would rattle him.

Yes, it was weird.

Yes, it was unconventional.

But hey! It was working.

The only thing that would stop him now would be Simeon proudly announcing that Megan had finished but so far, so good. Until then, he would just keep doing what he was doing,

" _Right wing gun upper"_... _click!_

" _Right wing gun lower"_... _click!_

" _Sixty seconds!"_

Simeon's sudden shriek gave Will such a hop that he dropped a small piece from his hand but he didn't panic. Following the sound as it hopped off his foot, he quickly scooped it up from the floor and kept going. He knew he was down to the final few fiddly pieces. The body and wings were done. Just the lights, the nose and the little piece of glass for the top of the cockpit remained. Fingering around for the remaining guns, he promptly clicked them into place.

" _Left wing gun upper"_... _click!_

" _Left wing gun lower"_... _click!_

Swiftly rubbing the small bits of plastic through the top of his thumb and forefinger, he double, triple checked it was the cockpit and not the nose of the X-Wing.

" _Oh my, this really is neck and neck. I've never seen anything like it!"_ Simeon squealed.

" _Small square, slanted top_ "... **click!**

" _Time's up! Time is up! Hands off the Lego!"_ Simeon's boing-boing voice bounced uncontrollably around the studio.

Will's eyes were still sealed shut. He knew if he opened them, all hope might be lost. He was petrified that he might see Simeon darting towards Megan to high-five her master-builder hands. He knew he was close but he was utterly petrified that marvellous Megan had crossed the line just a millimetre before him.

" _Come on Will, open those eyes."_ the host hollered _"How are you going to see your big prize with those peepers shut?"_

As his blinkers burst open, Will was startled by the scary sight of Simeon sprinting towards him. Holding his greasy hand upright, he aimed a high five at the Lego loving left hand of Will Stills.

" _Will Stills finally wins!"_ Simeon squealed as their hands met mid-air.

Words were not enough. Will needed concrete evidence. Craning his neck upwards, his eyes danced at the sight of the gigantic scoreboard which now read, Will – 2, Megan – 0.

The most brilliant and beautiful 2 he had ever seen in his life! (which went some way to repairing the damage of the last number 2 he did on that stage)

" _Well done Will, that really was amazing and hard luck Megan. It seems you had a bit of a problem with the guns... looks like you've put them on backwards. Great effort by both of you but doing it with your eyes closed was seriously impressive Will."_ Simeon screeched before trying to console Megan (Boy, did Will enjoy the fact that, for once, it wasn't him)

Will didn't wait to be invited to open his sur-prize! Pouncing off the podium, he darted for the most familiar box. Furiously ripping at the wrapping, he prayed that he was correct in his assumption.

He was.

" _It really is the Lego Death Star!"_ Will shrieked as he turned back to where his parents sat. Riddled with excitement, Bill Stills jumped from the couch, ran to his son and skidded on his knees behind him, almost clattering and toppling the birthday boy over. He scooped both his son and his Death Star clean into the air as if he had just won the World Cup.

" _What a way to win it."_ Bill beamed, _"I told you the sun would shine when you needed it most!"_

A wave of relief washed over Will. His dad was right... it would arrive at the right time. He knew it wasn't the super powers that some expected but at least he had shown the world that he was somewhat special... that he could, for at least a few minutes, be extraordinary.

Megan seemed politely happy with a Big Ben Lego set but the day and the joy was all Will's.

After blowing out twenty striped candles, chomping through a slice of over the top cake and blurting out a hurried rendition of the ViewYou Birthday song, the " _only babies born on January 7_ th _for 67 years_ " stood either side of Simeon as he waved goodbye to the hundreds in the studio and the millions at home.

For too long, Will Still's birthday was something he longed to forget.

But his 10th birthday was one he would remember forever.

## Chapter 31 – Hot Seat

" _Get out of my chair_!" Benedict Ruperts raged.

An uninvited intruder was forcing him to stand on the wrong side of his mahogany desk and he did not like it one bit. He felt like he was being interviewed for his own job. In his own office! By his own son!

" _You don't need a chair. You need a magician's hat!"_ the belligerent boy struck back, thrilled that his pre-prepared put-down sounded even better out in the open than it did in his mind.

Lord Ruperts, the heir to this particular throne, was sitting rather comfortably. Even if only for a moment, he knew that pinching his father's prized perch would utterly infuriate him. Nevertheless, he was determined to treat his old man to a little preview of how ViewYou would look in the near future. Lord's snarky stare may have appeared cool and calm but his insides were rumbling and rollicking like a bag of giddy ferrets.

" _What on earth is that supposed to mean_?" the chair(less)man inquired, genuinely baffled by this surprising uprising.

" _Have you not seen these ratings_?" Lord snapped. It seemed Benedict Ruperts was indeed being interviewed. Now that Lord was sixteen and at least two inches taller than his father, he felt ready to challenge the King.

" _Where are you hiding them?"_ the rebel yelled.

" _Hiding who? Speak sense will you boy?"_ Benedict demanded, crumpling his bewildered brow.

Lord was enjoying this mini mutiny even more than he'd hoped.

" _It's either the greatest magic trick in history or the police are going to come and break down that door,"_ teased the intentionally vague teenager _. "You have made 15 million people vanish! Vanish off the face of the earth. How are you going to explain that to the police and more importantly... to our advertisers?"_

" _Oh, do quit this fussing. Last night was a great success. All day I've been receiving complimentary emails and phone calls. Now get out my way you fussing little blunderbuss!"_ Mr. Ruperts rallied, trying to regain control of the conversation and his beloved swivel chair.

" _Have you actually seen these ratings? We lost millions the minute you put yourself on that stage and hand delivered that loser a victory_." Lord roared while still showing no sign of abandoning his leather covered post.

" _I've genuinely no idea what you're babbling about."_ Benedict feebly fibbed. He really was getting tired of all this bickering. Part of him could not wait to hand the company over to his son but there was no way he was going down without a fight. He was going to make sure his son earned the right to rule ViewYou.

" _Ha! Well at least that part is true. You really do have no idea. Star Wars questions and Lego building. What on earth were you thinking? You not only fixed it but you made sure everyone in the whole world could clearly see it was a fix. That wheel had a mind of its own."_ Lord boldly accused.

" _How did I know the arrow was going to stop on Star Wars? It could have landed anywhere. It wasn't even me who decided the topics. That was down to Gary and Tracey. I just gave them the idea of a quiz. Boy, you really are becoming very paranoid."_

" _Wait!"_ Lord suddenly yelped as he shot up out of the keenly contested chair. _"If it wasn't you... then... maybe... maybe it was him."_ Lord cryptically replied.

Just as Benedict hoped his son was finally submitting to his superiority, Lord bounced back into the chair, rolling it slightly away from the table.

" _Who? Who?"_ Benedict whipped back, sounding like a very angry owl.

" _That loser... Stills. If you didn't fix it then he must have. He must have controlled it... with his mind! Can't you see? It was him who made it land on Star Wars, it's the only explanation."_

" _Oh, you really are a dunderhead. Please, stop this poppycock. He's just a boy. I suppose you think he was able to see with his eyes closed too and that's how he built the Lego. I've never heard such balderdash!"_ his father fumed _. "You should hear yourself! You sound absolutely absurd! There was a one in five chance it would land on that topic and it did. And I've no idea why the wheel spun like that, something must have gone wrong with the spring. Now can you please get a grip and GET OUT OF MY CHAIR!"_ Benedict bellowed, much more forcefully than before.

" _Your time in this chair is coming to an end father."_ Lord boldly replied.

" _I won't ask you again boy. Get up!"_ Ruperts roared, desperately trying to remind the disobedient rogue who was boss.

Unhurriedly, Lord rose up from the leather throne but he wasn't yet planning to obey his father who foolishly begun to think he had crushed the rebelling rascal. After Lord left the chair, he suddenly turned back towards it, whisked it out from behind the desk and sent it scuttling towards his father like an out of control shopping trolley.

" _You are the chairman. So, have the chair!!"_ Lord wheezed with a snarky smirk.

The " _chairman"_ just about stepped aside in time, letting it crash against the glass door behind him.

" _How dare..."_

" _How dare I?"_ Lord interrupted _. "How dare you! All you care about is your fancy desk, your fancy chair, your fancy cars and planes and suits and houses and those silly little children."_

Lord was now lost in the throes of a terrible tantrum.

" _We've had thousands of tweets accusing us of fixing the entire thing. And no matter what we say or do now, they won't believe us. We had a record audience at the start of the night, wanting to her the latest news on precious Will and his precious dog and then you went and ruined it! You seem to care more about that fool than you do about your own company, than you do about ME! YOUR OWN SON!"_

Suddenly, Lord's tantrum swelled to a furious fit as he swung an arm and flung a framed picture from the edge of the desk. _"Just look at this office. You have more pictures of them than you do of me."_

" _Those children rescued this company."_ Benedict bit back. _"They saved your future. You should be grateful that January 7_ th _ever happened."_

" _Grateful? Why on earth should I feel grateful?"_

" _I don't have to listen to this. You are being hysterical. This is my office and if you don't like it you can jolly-well leave."_ Benedict ordered, sure he was now close to defeating the cheeky scamp.

" _Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you? I'd leave, yeah... just like mum did. Just like your wife did!"_

Lord fell silent. He knew he had gone too far but it was a thought that had been doggy-paddling around his head for years. As Lord tried to compose himself and figure out his next move, his father silently stared back. His nostrils fully flared. His lips tightly pressed. The million things he could have said floated behind his eyes but none of them were reaching his tongue. Turning from his son, Benedict abandoned his leather seat and stormed out of his own office.

It had been more than ten years since that wild, stormy night that Nancy Ruperts walked out on her family. She slammed the front door so fiercely that she cracked the stained-glass panels and woke her slumbering six-year-old son. Shaken and confused, the little boy spent many long days worrying and wondering where and why his mother had gone. But his father never offered a consoling arm or comforting word. Quite simply, Benedict Ruperts refused to ever speak of it.

With his father now also gone (well at least out of the office for a while), Lord arched his eyebrows and smiled a wry smile.

He couldn't quite believe it.

At last! A first! A victory! He had never won an argument with the great Benedict Ruperts and now he could feel his father's grip on the company weakening.

" _Two more years."_ he mouthed as he flounced back in the chair and rubbed its leather arms. _"Two more years and then you're all mine."_

But in that moment, he felt it might not even take that long.

" _Just you wait and see what I have in store for next year you old fool. I'll bring those fifteen million back."_

## Chapter 32 – A Peculiar Request

On the frightfully cold morning of January 8th, while watching a re-run of the 10th Big Bash, Will Stills snuggled Sit tightly against his chest. He was determined to never let the beautiful beagle out of his sight ever again. To the relief of the Stills family and half the world, Sit had been returned to Ruperts Road the previous night while they were at ViewYou studios by a kind stranger who found him sniffing around her bins. Thousands of clapping hands and thumbs up emojis replied to Bill's tweet that night thanking everyone for their support while a heart-warming picture of a reunited Will and Sit was retweeted seventeen million times.

Once the re-run was done, Bill Stills and son (and Sit) began their assault on the Lego Death Star.

Being the thoroughly prepared chap that he is, Bill had earlier popped out to Lego Construction Centre Number One to flick on the electric heater. Though LCC1 was ready to go, nothing could have prepared him for his son's strange request.

" _Dad... I am really excited to start building it but the thing is... I don't really want to finish it... ever!"_ Will unexpectedly declared as he gripped one end of the giant box and carried it inside the shed with his father holding the opposite end.

" _Well it will take us a while bud, it's not like we'll finish it today!"_ Bill volleyed back, really hoping his son was just in a strange mood and not really serious about stopping him from building this prized set.

" _The box says there are 3803 pieces. That will take us forever to put together dad!"_ Will precisely pointed out. While he desperately wanted to begin building, he knew that if he did, he would soon be finished and he couldn't bear the idea. This was the Lego set to end them all - nothing else would ever top it.

" _I've worked out that if we each do two pieces every day, it will take us just under two years to build it! That way we can make it last longer!"_ Will cleverly determined.

" _Well, I'd like to make it last too but do we really want to take that long?"_ a bewildered Bill asked. _"I don't think it even took the Empire that long to build the actual Death Star!"_

Will laughed aloud. His father made it sound like there really was a giant Death Star floating somewhere around the universe, waiting to blow up entire solar systems.

" _Well, okay..."_ conceded the man with the plan. _"... if we do five pieces each then it should only take a year and that way we might have it ready in time for my next birthday!"_

" _Sounds good! Let's get crackin'!'_ " Bill boomed, entirely convinced that his son would cave in as soon as they got going. Rubbing his hands together – the anticipation of finally opening the box and getting his hands on thousands of brand new Lego bricks was almost too much for Bill.

" _I'm calling shot-gun on all the mini-figures!"_ Will exclaimed seconds before his father could.

" _I wanted to do the mini figures."_ Bill silently seethed.

Just as Will clicked Darth Vader's helmet upon his head, the faint sound of the front door bell trickled across the garden and broke his focus.

" _It must be Mr. Green._ " Bill declared, secretly delighted that he would now get some alone time with the Death Star. _"We better let him in..."_

" _Perfect timing!"_ Will shouted as he followed his father towards the sliding doors. He'd already done his five pieces for the day so Mr. Green's arrival was the perfect distraction from being tempted to build anymore.

## Chapter 33 – A Late Night Knocking

Though the storm kept stirring, the Death Star was slowly growing and Will's 10th year was proceeding in a relatively well-mannered way.

His twitter following grew steadily, keeping him just ahead of Megan and without fail, that same little love heart was delivered every morning at 8.35. Every time he checked, it was there.

Though it too was progressing nicely, the Death Star was not going to be ready for a full-scale weapons test any time soon. Bill Stills was quietly impressed by his son's self-discipline – young Stills maintained his five bricks per day rations without wavering. Once Will was in bed, Bill did have to reposition the odd brick or three but his son's Lego building skills were certainly improving.

As one unmemorable December day ended, a late-night knocking came thundering across the front door of Number 7, Ruperts Road. It was just after 1am and whoever was attached to this frantic fist was certainly in a most dreadful hurry.

Dunt! Dunt!

Dunt! Dunt!

Each time the knock arrived, it grew more thunderous and more frantic until there wasn't even a nano-second between the each one.

Dunt!Dunt!

Dunt!Dunt!

Slipping out of his hard-earned slumber, Will's eyes blinked open.

Dunt!Dunt!

Dunt!Dunt!

Dazed and groggy eyed, Will gently nudged a slumbering Sit towards the bottom of the bed and swivelled himself onto the edge, half thinking the knocking was coming from his noisy neighbour partaking in a late-night bounce-bounce in her pink palace.

Dunt!Dunt!

DUNT!DUNT!

Rubbing his woozy eyes awake, he prayed that at least one of his parents would stir,

" _Please don't make me go downstairs."_ a worried Will silently begged. " _But what if there's something wrong at the Drizzlecotts._

Pushing his toes into the cold carpet, he was just about to dare a dip downstairs when he heard his parent's bedroom door whip open, immediately followed by his father's sluggish grumbling,

" _I better have won some sort of prize to be woken at this hour?"_ Bill Stills muttered as he stomped past his son's door and clumsily descended the stairs – his footsteps clunky and out of rhythm.

A quick click of the door was followed by an abrupt exchange of grumpy, muffled voices. It was certainly a man and he was certainly in a hurry. Whatever he had to get off his chest, he was spilling every syllable at super speed.

Pushing his hands out into the dark, Will moved as close to his door as he could - pawing the wall a little before he finally found the light switch.

Crouching downwards, he leaned his ear closer to the key hole but other than a medley of muttering, he still couldn't hear anything.

Ever so slowly, he eased his door handle down, guiding it back towards him as delicately as he could. Not trusting the floorboards beneath him, Will dared not move. He knew they were longing to creak aloud and betray him. Opening the swim bag that hung upon the back of the door, he pulled out his Spiderman towel and threw it across the doorway as if it was a red, royal carpet.

" _This should muffle the noise,"_ Super Spy Boy hoped.

By now, Sit had been stirred by the voices and was butting Will's arm with his nose, trying to get past him and out of the room. Will had no choice but to scoop him up and hold him while he spied.

Stepping slowly upon the slightly damp towel, Will gained the distance he needed to unmuffle the muffles below. A raspy, serious voice was speaking,

" _I completely understand why you wouldn't believe me but you must trust me when I tell you that you must get your boy out of here!"_ The stranger spluttered rapidly, his warm breath clouding up the cold midnight air around him.

" _Why? Why isn't it safe?"_ Will heard his father ask in a wobbly tone, although he couldn't tell if it was because he was cold or because this moonlit alarm was pricking him into a panic.

" _I know you know more than you're letting on_... _and I've only got a minute so please don't interrupt me."_ the stranger snapped back, a little sharper than before. _"If you don't listen to me, you will regret it for the rest of your life. They've been hunting me all of mine. They won't stop until they have what they want."_

" _You're talking nonsen..?"_ Bill tried to interrupt.

" _Please... just listen. If you don't get him out of here, your boy will never get any peace. They'll haunt him, torture him, ridicule his every move. Don't tell anyone where you're going – forget about the house... the money and whatever contracts you've signed – you are prisoners in that house, it's a cage, it's a laboratory. And they won't stop testing, poking and prodding, ruining his life, your life until they prove it. Just go! As soon as you can. You have to trust me, they did the same to me..."_

" _What did they do to you?" Bill managed to ask as he spoke faster than he had ever done in his entire life._

" _Your son was the first boy born on January 7_ th _in fifty-seven years but I was the last. I've risked my life sneaking back in here to tell you this. If I stay any longer, they'll be here, they're watching all the time. Please... please listen to me and..."_

Will's ears could not digest the words that were sweeping up the stairs. Ducking down by the top step, he was so curious to spy the body connected to that raspy voice but he couldn't bow down far enough as Sit was beginning to wriggle in his arms.

"... _I've been in hiding for years, avoiding their eyes and their grasp and I've already taken steps to help your son but it's getting worse and there's nothing more I can do but tell you... you must leave!"_

Will was desperate to get a peek. He just had to get a look at this hassled harbinger.

" _.. you must get out of here before his next birthday party, I've heard what they have in store and if you don't get out of here, they will..."_

Suddenly, Sit wriggled free of Will's grasp and rocketed down the stairs, barking at the midnight stranger moved who looked up and briefly caught Will's eye.

"... _your boy, he's listening."_

Will tried to roll back out of the way but his father had spotted him. By the time Bill reached down and managed to pluck up a fidgety and snarling Sit, the mystery man had vanished - slipping seamlessly back into the cold, dark night from which he came.

## Chapter 34 – Searching for A Stranger

Though it was ever so brief, Will did catch a glimpse of the late-night knocker.

Fortunately, the hallway light reached just far enough to flood the face of the old man – who wore a very serious face coated by a steely, grey beard and a large black hood.

Will had certainly never seen him before but there was something in that brief glance alone that made him seem somewhat familiar.

" _Will, go back to bed!"_ Bill bellowed as he stepped upon the creaky bottom step of the stair. _"There's nothing to worry about. It was just some confused old fella. I'll check with Scott and Tony and make sure he's gone. Go on, I'll be up in a minute to tuck ya in."_

Moments later, Bill was back, popping Sit upon the bed before folding the bed sheets around his son,

" _Nothing to worry about bud, remember you're the King and I'm the clown, I'll always build ya up, I'll never let ya down. And tomorrow we've got ten more pieces to add to the Death Star."_

Will didn't say much. Millions of inquiries were clogging up the switchboard of his brain but he knew his dad would just brush away any questions he dared ask... so he didn't bother.

After she finally stirred, Gill Stills insisted her husband retell the entire encounter word for word. But Bill was so taken aback by what he had heard, he could only recall it in flashes.

" _Who was he?"_

" _He... eh... he didn't give his name."_

" _How does he know what they're planning for the next birthday?"_

" _I don't know, I didn't ask!"_

" _Why has he waited until now?"_

" _I don't know, he wouldn't let me ask any questions. I told you, he said he didn't have much time to talk!"_

" _Google him!"_

" _What?"_

" _Google him, he said he was the last baby born on January 7_ th _so Google him. Surely that will tell us something."_

Gill Stills was so irate and screechy that Will could hear every shrill syllable.

Google might have all the answers but Will had none. The only thing he could figure out was the strange visitor's age. Will knew he was the first baby born on January 7th in 57 years and he was now 10 so that meant the mystery man was at least 67.

Bill was now busy Googling and it did not take long to find the answer to at least one of the questions.

" _The last recorded birth on January 7_ th _before Will Stills arrived fifty-seven years later was Kenneth O'Brien, son of Sean and Sinead O'Brien."_ Bill read out rather proudly as if he had unearthed the solution to a problem that had plagued the world for centuries.

" _Keep going!"_ Gill snapped impatiently, unimpressed by her husband's discovery.

" _Eh... very little is known about him. He's been spotted in Spain and in Central America but no one actually knows much about him and he's never spoken publicly about January 7_ th _."_ Bill's voice grew quiet as the trail ran cold.

" _Is that it? Aren't there any pictures?"_ asked Mrs. What Was the Point in That?

" _Yip, that's all it says. Hasn't been seen for ten years."_ replied Mr. I Bet You Think You Can Do A Better Job.

" _Give it here, you've not searched properly."_ moaned Mrs. You Can't Even Google.

" _Thought you might say that."_ quipped Mr. I Know My Wife So Well.

Gill studiously scrolled through a couple of pages but it didn't take long for her to realise that her husband, at least on this occasion, was right. (not that she'd ever admit it)

" _Well at least we know his name."_ she consoled herself before inquiring further. _"Do you think we should leave? Do you think we should listen to..."_

" _No, don't be daft. We have everything we need here. We can't go running off in the dead of night just because some lunatic shows up at our door and starts telling us what's what."_ Bill declared confidently. _"Where would we go? What would we do for money? You know I can't go back to scoopin' poop."_

" _Yeah, but why does a sixty-year-old man go to all that effort to climb over the walls and sneak past security to warn us that we should leave?"_ Gill wondered.

" _What I'd like to know is how on earth Scott and Tony are still employed when dogs can sneak out and people can sneak in?"_ replied Bill, growing more and more incensed.

Scott and Tony were certainly not the world's greatest security guards but it wasn't until the night before Will's eleventh birthday that they deservedly lost their jobs.

## Chapter 35 – A City in Ruins.

A week before his eleventh birthday, Will clicked Emperor Palpatine's black, shiny throne into position and the Death Star was done. 3,803 individual pieces had been fearlessly fused together to create the most wondrous toy Will ever laid eyes on. Bill even cleared a special space in LCC1 for his pride and joy.

Fighting back a big, gooey lump in his throat, Bill Stills stretched his arm around his son as they both stepped back and marvelled at the plastic super weapon they had built together.

" _I'm not crying, I've just got something in my eye."_ Bill declared unconvincingly as his voice cracked a little.

" _It's okay Dad, I'd cry too if I'd waited as long as you had."_ replied Mr. I Might Be 10 But I'm Not An Idiot.

Will didn't feel quite as giddy as his father. As their project came closer and closer to completion - a strange, gnawing feeling grew bigger and bigger within the pit of his stomach.

Now that the Death Star was done, Will was convinced that his luck was now over too.

Whatever puzzles and prizes ViewYou had planned for the eleventh Big Bash, he knew they could never be as perfect for him as a Star Wars quiz and Lego building.

All year, he feared Megan would be gunning for revenge and now, thanks to the hooded stranger, his frets and worries were super-sized because he knew that ViewYou had something _"in store"_ for him.

The endless possibilities paraded through his brain on the night of January 6th.

\- hunted by ravenous lions.

\- scoffing repellent fish eyes.

-dancing in a tutu in front of the entire world.

-three minutes of on the spot stand-up comedy! Naked! Naked stand-up comedy!

After an hour of struggling to fight these fears, an exhausted Will finally drifted off.

But as soon as a light snore filled his room, the storm broke. He knew that if he woke up, he could make it stop but then he would have to lie there in the dark surrounded by all those needling thoughts and questions.

And this tornado twisted faster than any before. It spun Will and everything he loved with an unending relish. It was so ferocious, the boy even whimpered in his sleep. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

All the wreckage of his life bulleted past him, scraping him, cutting him. The cruel twister sent him hurtling to its highest point, swinging him, flinging him before sending him plummeting back down towards its feet, making sure he collided with everything as he tumbled downwards.

" _Fight it."_ a deep voice whispered. _"Resist it. Control it. Become it. You are the storm."_

Instantly the whimpering stopped. The tears dried up. Will turned his body and faced the wild, unforgiving winds. Clenching his fists and grinding his teeth, he leaned in to the hurricane.

Nothing changed. The rag doll was still being whirled around uncontrollably. But the further he leaned in... the more he squared his shoulder... the more he lifted his head... the more his fears began to fade.

Remembering the race track and the bungee run, he dug his toes downwards and leaned all of his weight to one side... pushing... pressing against the violent force that tried to topple him.

" _You will spin my way_!" he shrieked... louder than the howling gusts before they suddenly maddened and twisted even faster than before.

But Will was not giving in. He prolonged his push... sustained his scream.

" _I am the storm!"_ the boy bellowed as he whipped his arms around and around above his head... forcing his fingers through it... spinning his feet... driving it back... breaking its charge.

Around and around, the boy twisted, revolving at a dizzying speed... the winds tried to maintain their push but he was exhausting them... making it almost impossible to push him their way.

The spinning slowed... the boy did not and the tornado finally stopped.

Will slept.

In fact, he slept so well that by the time he woke, a glorious glow was pushing through the back of his bedroom curtains.

" _Wow! Slept right through 'til morning,"_ the yawning boy thought as he threw his sheets from his chest and instinctively made his bed.

But the instant he stuck his hand through the curtains to pull them back, he leapt over Sit and sprinted from his room, clattering through the landing towards his parent's bedroom door,

" _Dad!! Dad!! Dad!!"_ he yelped! _"Dad, wake up – the back garden's on fire!!"_

" _What_?" Bill shouted not even slightly awake, _"What have I won?"_

" _There's a fire in the garden!"_ Will squealed.

As if his mattress was ablaze, Bill sprang from his bed and hurtled down the stairs so fast, he didn't even need the steps.

Following her frantic husband down the stairless stairs, Gill Stills was now also awake and again carrying out one of her intense interrogations,

" _How did you see? How did it start? Did you see anyone? Tell me you haven't been out there!"_ she shouted as Will followed his panicky parents.

Bill and Gill were out in the garden and yelling at one another by the time Will arrived. As he stepped through the sliding patio door, he finally realised that it was not the garden that was on fire. It was the sheds! The Lego Construction Centres! And Number 3 was a wall of flame. Hundreds of Lego pirates were trapped inside and melting fast – if the fire was not soon extinguished, their beloved ships and cherished treasure would be seriously scorched. Captain Stills was doing everything he could to rescue his mini plastic shipmates,

" _Will, grab me the garden hose! Quickly! Gill, get over there and turn it on – twist it fully around – make sure it's full pressure!"_ Bill ordered, taking command of this surprising situation.

Sit Stills raced into the garden, barking crankily at the flame monster that was threatening his family and disturbing his little doggie dreams.

" _Get him back Will. Get him back! Why have you let him out?"_ Bill bellowed.

Just then, the roof of number 3 caved in and the front section of the shed fell toward the fretting family and their barking best friend. Will dashed towards the doggie and just managed to scoop Sit up off the ground and away from the falling wall of flame. Flying sparks briefly lit up pockets of the dark grass all around him.

" _Gill!! Get them two inside and call the fire brigade!"_ ordered Mr. I've Just Realised the Garden Hose Isn't Going to Solve This.

Sit was still yelping and wriggling as Will carried him back through the sliding doors. Inside, Gill was trying and failing to keep calm as she ranted at the operator – not quite able to explain what had happened or what was happening.

" _The garden is on fire - shed 3 has collapsed - the dog nearly died – my husband's trying to save the Lego!"_ she raved.

Will watched solemnly through the sliding glass door. LCC 3 would soon be an ash pile – a mass grave of melted plastic pirates and burnt out boats. To make matters worse, the right side of LCC 2 was now also aflame - the Lego City shed. Most of Lego City had been built by Bill before Will was even born – it was his original pride and joy. Will's most prized possession, his Lego Star Wars collection, was housed in LCC 1. If the fire brigade did not get there soon, both the Empire and the Rebels would perish.

" _Mum, can I go out and get the Death Star from LCC1?"_ Will asked.

" _Shush!"_ Gill bit back, still hiccupping words rather than full sentences at the operator.

LCC 2 was now fully ablaze – town halls, skyscrapers, burger bars, hotels and hospitals were all reduced to rubble.

" _Where is the fire brigade?"_ Bill roared from outside as he half-hoped his Lego City Fire Station might actually come to life and rescue months of hard work. The Mayor of Lego City was trying his best to soak the flickering flames with his garden hose but he may as well have been spitting on it for all the good it was doing. As the flames grew higher, Bill was being pushed further and further back by the searing heat. He was now almost leaning against the back wall of the house.

Will was deep in thought.

" _I may not have a good memory... and I may not have super-jumping powers or super strength or mind control... but what if I'm fire resistant. What if this is the moment dad was talking about?"_ Will thought to himself. A very dangerous thought.

A lack of sleep and too many whispers all lead to this moment. As the left wall of LCC1 lit up, Will Stills planned a Death Star raid... a dash through flames to save their beloved collector's item. Though he knew he couldn't carry it alone and he would likely break it trying to lift it out of the shed, he could not bear the thought of letting it melt. Many of the Lego sets could be replaced but not that.

" _I've tried everything else!"_ Will thought as his mother still rambled down the phone _. "It's gotta be that... I was born for this moment!"_

Just as Will summoned up the courage to sprint towards LCC1, the whirring siren of a fire engine filled his ears.

As soon as Gill opened the front door, four uniformed men rampaged through the house and whizzed past Will who was still half-standing in the sliding door.

Bill gladly retired his pitiable spray and ran inside to join his family and check they were okay,

" _Lego Pirates has been wiped out, not sure what we can salvage from Lego City but it looks like they've arrived just in time to save Star Wars,"_ Bill summarised as he hugged the non-plastic people he loved.

" _How do you think it might have started?"_ Gill asked.

" _More like who would have started it? That's what I want to know!"_ Bill wondered as he hugged his wife and son tighter than ever before.

## Part 4 – A Boy Turns Eleven
## Chapter 36 - Make the Day Go Away

" _C'mon birthday boy! It's almost ten! Everybody's here to see you_!" Gill, bellowed from the squeaky bottom step of the stairs.

On the bitterly cold morning of January 7th, the morning of his eleventh birthday, nothing could calm Will's chaotic mind.

" _How can I wake up when I haven't been asleep?"_ Grumpy Boy grumbled to himself.

That night, the brain bulging was so bad, Will genuinely feared his bonce would burst. Dreading the sunrise, he lay there for hours, staring through the deep darkness that hung around him. January 7th was no longer just a day; it was now a monster that haunted him and hunted him.

Most children count down the days, minutes and seconds to their birthday but Will Stills now couldn't wait for January 8th – the day AFTER his birthday. The slightest mention of January 7th would release a savagely slippery sweat from his skin. He knew that ViewYou had something _"planned"_ and he was in no rush to find out what that something was.

His whole family were waiting patiently downstairs, ready to spoil him rotten, but the way Will was acting, you would think they were about to surprise him with a hairless cat and a lifetime's supply of mushroom flavoured lollipops.

" _Will!!"_ Gill roared with 28% more irritation in her voice, giving the waiting guests around her a little hop.

Will had to do something. This monster wasn't going away. He could almost feel the breath of the birthday beast on the back of his neck.

Without thinking, Cranky Boy leapt from his bed and flung his wardrobe door open. Like a dog feverishly digging up dirt, he scooped out the clutter of junk that lined its floor.

" _I've got to make this day go away!"_ he snarled.

Snatching up his quilt and pillow, he hurled the bundle inside and bounded in after them. Pulling the doors shut from within, Will had the darkness he craved – a mid-morning night. But he knew January 7th would never surrender so easily.

" _They're going to find me!"_ he fretted as he began to re-think his plan. _"Unless I..."_

Hidden within the dark belly of his wardrobe, it was impossible to see Will's face but if you had night vision goggles, you would have spotted a devilish grin curling up the sides of his mouth.

Suddenly, the wardrobe doors burst back open. Will needed a parent-proof blockade and he knew exactly what he had to do.

Summoning a strength far beyond his eleven years, he grappled and grabbed at his chest of drawers. Stuffed with pants, socks and Star Wars t-shirts, he heaved the stubborn trunk along the wall.

Heave! Shove! Heave! Shove!

Had he emptied each of the drawers, it would certainly have been easier but there just wasn't time. Inch by inch, he nudged the cumbersome chest forward until it was locked touch tight against his bedroom door. As if it had been designed with a blockade in mind, the smooth pine top slotted neatly below the door handle. The relentless raiders would never be able to push it down far enough to get in.

" _It's still not strong enough! I need something bigger, heavier... wardrobier!"_ the designer of unusual defences was now designing unusual words.

Without delay, Will whisked the doors of his wardrobe open, lunged inside and locked his arms around all the shirts that hung around in there like half-dressed ghosts. In one swift spin, he lobbed them upon his bed where they bounced upon his mattress like a sucker-punched heavy-weight.

Will vs. Wardrobe had begun – the ultimate shove of war. Taming this wooden colossus was never going to be easy but bit by bit, the dogged boy steered it towards its intended destination.

Heave! Shove! Heave! Shove!

Inch by inch, Will shunted this varnished beast towards his bedroom door by leaning his back against it. _"I've had ten birthdays already..."_ he thought to himself "... _and ten is quite enough!"_

" _Bill, will you please go and see what your son is up to? Everyone's here and we need to go soon!"_ Gill moaned at the crisp munching man of the house.

Before Bill's toes had touched the squeaky bottom step, his son was back inside, back in his pretend night. _Operation Make The Day Go Away_ was complete. All he could do now was pray that his barricade would hold – that the January 7th monster could not smash through his furniture catalogue fortifications.

" _Will!!"_ Bill boomed impatiently from halfway up in his big, serious dad voice. _"What are ya playing at? Yer Gran's waitin'! Hurry up!"_

" _I'm coming!!!"_ Will reluctantly shouted, praying that his slightly muffled response would keep Daddy Wolf from the door. His dad was the last person in the world he wanted to disappoint but he had to stick to his plan.

" _Did you get him?"_ Gill quizzed her husband as he dumped his wide-open claw into the cheese puffs.

" _Yup! He's on his way, just said he's coming!"_ the crisp crusher replied.

" _What's taking him so long? He's usually first up!"_ Gill wondered as she topped up the tea pot for her particularly parched guests.

" _He must be struggling to decide on an outfit. I'm sure I heard him going in his wardrobe_." Bill remarked, blissfully unaware of how right he was.

Gill was not convinced. Her irritation had now risen to a dangerously high 74% and everyone knew what happened when she reached 80.

She was going upstairs.

" _Will! You've only just turned eleven...,"_ Gill ranted, each word matching the beat of her feet upon the stairs, "... _boys don't usually get stuck to their beds until they're thirt..."_

Donk!

Gill tried the door again.

" _Emm... Will? What's up with the door?"_ she asked, completely taken aback as she tried once more.

**DONK**!!

" _Hello? Will? Are you in there? Is there something leaning against the handle?"_ she asked, each word sounding 12% more wobbly than the last. She paused a moment before trying again...

DONK!

" _Could you try it instead of just standing there munchin'?"_ Gill challenged Captain Crisp as he joined her at the top of the stairs.

DONK!

Though Bill tried the same approach, he seemed surprised by the identical result. His wife shot him a dirty look that snarled, _haven't I just done that?_ But Bill was not done yet. Instantly, Captain Crisp took four steps back along the landing, jutted his jaw into a ' _this time I mean business'_ grimace and hastily dashed for the door.

Bill ran. Bill went bang - smashing his shoulder into the wooden panels.

" _Owww, what the... ? He's nailed it shut!"_ yelped Bill, holding his shoulder together as if it had cracked like a soft-boiled egg.

" _Will? Please say something! You're worrying me now!"_ Gill shrieked.

Will's lips remained shut but a terrible tremble swum through them. He really hated upsetting his mum.

" _Everything okay up there?"_ a small voice climbed up the stairs. Will's gran was wondering what on earth was going on.

" _Oh, nothing mum, we're coming now. Will's just playing a little game!"_ Gill shuddered at her terrible, on the spot lie.

" _Will! If you don't get out here this instant, I'm donating all your Lego to charity!"_ Gill threatened rather cleverly.

Will was determined to stay put but he could not lose his Lego. (not when he'd lost so much of it already.)

" _Mum always knows how to break me."_ he admitted as he kicked his unsocked foot against the far side of the wardrobe in frustration. He knew defeat was dawning.

" _Will! Get out here now! You're really upsetting your mother!"_ Bill added, trying to play his part.

" _I'll come out..."_ Will finally yelled, much to the relief of the two adults on the other side of the door.

"... _but on one condition!"_ he promptly added.

" _What?"_ Mr. and Mrs. Stills belched in unison.

" _Make them go away!"_ Will demanded.

" _It's just your gran and your auntie and they've all brought presents!"_ Gill explained, her face full with a frown.

" _No, not them_! The others!" Will cried.

" _Who? Who?"_ the puzzled owls wondered.

" _The 40 million! Make the 40 million go away!"_

## Chapter 37 – Rebels Yell!

" _No more parties!"_ Will roared.

" _No more challenges!"_

" _No more sur-prizes!"_

" _No more stupid giant cakes big enough for people to live on!"_

Gill didn't know what to do – her boy was rebelling. He had finally had enough. He used to be so laid back that he'd fall asleep at the rowdiest of rock concerts but the January 7th miracle had finally snapped.

" _No more of that silly man with his silly voice!"_

" _No more points and scoreboards!"_

" _NO MORE SELFIES!"_

" _I'm not special. I've not got superpowers. I'm just a normal boy who builds Lego and watches Star Wars and I'm never, ever going on that stage again. I never asked to be born on January 7_ th _and you should have made sure that I wasn't!"_

As Gill began to sob, Bill tried to rub her shoulder but she instantly slapped his arm away.

Finally, Bill Stills stepped up.

" _Will, I know it's hard bud, but we have to do it, just this last one... I promise after this we will see what else we can do. I'll speak to Mr. Ruperts and I'll tell him we're done... and I won't just leave a voicemail"_ Bill laughed, trying to lighten the mood. It did not work. Gill kicked him in the shin.

Every word that slipped from Bill's lips was the right word. On this occasion, he felt the truth was the only way ... _"... and if that means we lose the house, then I'll go back to work... we'll start again... we don't need swimming pools... or ice-cream machines... or limousines. You're the prince and I'm the clown... I'll always build you up... I'll never let you down."_

Will could not reply. His jaw was jammed with a heavy sob that was hiking up the back of his throat. In his hurried bid to prolong the night and evade the day, he had forgotten to remember everything else.

" _I can't send dad back to work... who'd look after me? And where would we live?"_ Wardrobe Boy silently worried.

" _Will?"_ Bill tried again. _"Come on bud, Carlysle is going to be here with the limo soon. You know he'll be mad to see ya, and I'm sure he'll have yer present wrapped and waiting on yer seat for ya like always. Let's get through today and I promise I'll fix this tomorrow."_

At 11.06am, Will's barricade and determination finally collapsed.

" _Thank goodness you're okay!"_ Gill shrilled as she dried her eyes on her sleeve and hugged her hide'n'seek son _._

BEEP, BEEP!

" _That'll be Carlysle!"_ Bill clarified rather pointlessly.

With a thundering fuss, two rampaging buffalo plus one mini buffalo charged back down the stairs. Darting into the kitchen, they frantically kissed the visitors goodbye and snatched handfuls of whatever crisps they could reach before pouring out the front door.

" _I'll call you tonight after the show!"_ Gill shouted to her mum.

Will was already in the limo by the time he remembered what he'd forgotten to say...

" _Thank you for my presents!!!"_ he yelled just before Gill whipped the freshly waxed door shut.

It had been a manic morning of barricades and bribery but finally, the Stills family were together.

Yet somebody was missing.

" _Where's Carlysle?"_ Will wondered, struggling to tune in to where he was and what he was doing.

" _I'm sorry sir, Carlysle couldn't make it today. He's not feeling very well,"_ said some strange man with a strange voice.

" _Is he okay?"_ the birthday boy replied apprehensively.

" _He's fine sir, don't you worry. My name's Trent and I will be looking after you today. Please let me know if you need anything; adjust the temperature, turn on the radio, stop to top up the snacks. I'm happy to help."_ replied the stranger who was being far too polite and treating Will as if he was an old lady. Carlysle was cool because he told silly jokes and teased Will. He didn't treat him like he was a precious prince.

Eyeballing every inch of the limousine, Will hoped Carlyle might have still left his gift somewhere for him. Scowling, Will scanned his eagle eyes up and down the black, rectangular interior before asking his mum and dad to check under their hand bags and bottoms, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Momentarily, Will considered flinging himself from the swanky car and darting back home, back upstairs and back into the safety of his wardrobe. But Gill spotted the temptation flicker across her son's eyes and again knew just what to say,

" _Bet the pre-show buffet is going to be full of your favourite..."_ she tantalised with a smile, _"... ice-cream donuts until you_ vomit. _Isn't that what you say every year?"_

Will's face was flicker-less and flutter-less – there was not even the slightest hint that her son was listening.

" _Do you think Megan might have started the fire?"_ Will suddenly wondered aloud, having not spoken for most of the journey.

" _What? No! Why?"_ Bill spluttered, seemingly forgetting how sentences worked.

" _She might have been jealous that we won the Death Star!"_ Will replied slightly embarrassed by the drivel he was spilling. Even as it fell from his mouth, he knew it sounded a little far-fetched.

" _Don't be daft – you won that a year ago._ " Gill counselled.

" _Yeah, but maybe she waited until we finished building it and..."_ Will tried to argue further before his father interrupted him.

"... _the fire men said somebody's poured petrol all over the shed, little Megan couldn't have done all that!"_

" _So, who was it then?"_ persisted Mr. I Need an Answer.

Bill did not answer. He couldn't. He really wished he could but his mind was so drenched in possibilities, he felt like _his_ head was going to explode.

" _Mr. Stills, I have a call for you. Mr. Ruperts would like a word."_ Trent suddenly interrupted.

" _Oh okay, sure!"_ Bill replied slightly taken aback.

" _Pick up the phone to your right sir."_ the driver patiently instructed.

" _Mr. Stills, good afternoon, it's Benedict Ruperts here, thank you for taking my call."_ Mr. Mega-Bucks pronounced.

" _That's okay, nice of you to call Mr. Ruperts."_ Bill squeaked, sounding like a nervous dolphin.

Gill was immediately shooting daggers at the shivering dolphin that suggested, _"You better tell him! Don't be nice to him because he's rich! Tell him what you said you were going to tell him!"_ Her exaggerated eyeballing really was the best way to communicate with her husband.

" _Mr. Stills – I really was sorry to hear about what happened last night and I was so relieved to hear that you and your family were unharmed. I can assure you we will do everything we can to catch whoever did this. Scott and Tony have both been fired and I will personally be overseeing the appointment of a new, more effective security team."_

" _I should hope so. It must never happen again!"_ Bill warned as his wife almost fainted with shock.

"... _absolutely... of course... and please let me know what might have been damaged in the sheds and we will do all we can to replace it!"_ gushed the chairman.

" _There were some things lost last night that no amount of money could never replace,"_ gulped Bill, reddening slightly at the boldness in his voice and the new-found steel in his spine.

" _Of course. Well, just email my secretary at the office and she'll sort it. And can you please pass on my best wishes to the birthday boy himself? I can't be there with you tonight as I'm away on business but I assure you, you're in for an enjoyable evening."_

" _Well if it isn't... it might just be the last..."_ Bill was on a roll and he couldn't quite believe his boldness.

" _Oh, I'm sure it won't come to that... as I said... you're in for a night to remember and I'm sure we'll catch up soon to sort out any other issues you may have..."_ the chairman interrupted. He'd charmed many a disgruntled customer in his time and Bill Stills wouldn't be the latest.

As Mr. Ruperts said goodbye, Bill clicked the phone into the receiver and smiled.

" _Wow, look at you! Was that really Mr. Ruperts?"_ wondered Mrs. Where's My Husband Gone?

Bill's retelling of the other side of the phone conversation seemed to calm Gill's jangling nerves and smooth out the jagged eye bushes on her forehead.

Unfortunately, Mr. Ruperts was indeed away on business. Very far away. He'd been there for some time and all the while he'd been gone, the conniving Lord Ruperts was swivelling in his chair and meddling with his plans for the party.

That evening, the Stills family would experience many emotions but joy would not be one of them.

## Chapter 38 – Health Kick (In the Head)

With a face full of make-up, the buttoned-up Tracey greeted the Stills family as the limo pulled into ViewYou studios. Behind all that blush, she wore that familiar _oh great_ , _it's you_ sneer across her face.

" _Happy birthday Will,"_ she muttered lifelessly. " _Please_ m _ake your way into the green room, you'll find everything you need."_

The only thing Will Stills needed was a good night's sleep and a mouth full of ice-cream donut but when they stepped into the green room, Will couldn't find either of those things. In fact, as soon as he entered, the only thing he needed was to gallop right out of there as fast as his two boy-hooves could manage.

It really was a _green_ room. Gone were the cakes, crisps and sausage rolls and in their place sat what can only be described as a Bugs Bunny buffet.

" _Is this a joke?"_ Will blurted as soon as the gruesome, green glow infected his eyes.

Endless plates and bowls stuffed with various varieties of lettuce stared back at him. Literally hundreds. Up to that point, Will was sure there was only one type of lettuce – Green lettuce! But from where he stood, gazing down at the table that looked like his grandmother's over-grown garden, he had now met the entire extended lettuce family. Beside each bowl stood a folded piece of white card – naming every member of this wild gang of green: ice-berg, spinach, kale, watercress, little gem, cabbage, arugula and radicchio (it was a dark red and did not look anything like lettuce, it was clearly a very distant cousin.)

" _Come on guys, lettuce not stand and stare, lettuce begin eating!"_ Bill joked a big dad joke though he didn't dare move towards the table himself.

In between each tasteless treat sat little bowls of colourless dips surrounded by finely cut fingers of celery and carrot. Within this marvellous medley sat potato salad, coleslaw, and for some strange reason, tomatoes cut into cubes.

" _What was wrong with circular tomatoes?"_ a mystified Will asked as he finally found a breadstick to sulkily chomp on.

" _Eh... Tracey, can I ask what's happened to the buffet?"_ Bill inquired, speaking up on behalf of his wife and son.

" _ViewYou is now a healthy eating company. We started just last week. Mr. Ruperts insists there are no added sugars or salts in any of the foods we provide – not in our staff canteen or in any of our guest buffets."_ replied Mrs. Why Don't We Make Life Harder?

" _Will there be any desserts?"_ added Bill knowing exactly what his son was silently nudging him to ask.

" _Of course,...",_ she replied as Will's ears pricked up – still hopeful of at least one ice-cream donut. _"... we have fruit salad and six different types of nut."_ Tracey added with a perfectly straight face.

" _Six different types of nut!"_ Will thought to himself. _"I know only one type of nut and that's a big Tracey shaped nut!"_

" _Hasn't Mr Ruperts been away on business?"_ Bill asked suspiciously.

" _Yes, he has, but he emailed me last week and asked that I put it into action before he gets back – he had the idea on the plane on the way over. He knew he could trust me to get it done!"_ she revealed rather proudly.

Mr. Ruperts had indeed emailed Tracey asking her to remove all the salt, sugar and fun out of his company but it wasn't necessarily Benedict Ruperts who pressed send. After many, many attempts, Ruperts Jnr. had cracked the password to his father's computer. Lord filled the glass office with high-pitched cackles as he finally discovered that his father's password was _FIRST! FIRST! FIRST! EXCLUSIVE! EXCLUSIVE! EXCLUSIVE!_

With this new-found power, Lord had graduated to a new-found level of malicious meddling.

## Chapter 39 – A Day Long Dreaded

At one minute past seven, the giant 07 split open and Will was relieved that the thunderous applause being volleyed towards him, drowned out the rowdy rumbling in his tummy.

" _Good evening world and welcome to our 11_ th _BIG BIRTHDAY BASH!!"_

The crowd roared as Simeon Bonaventure swirled his candy cane coat through the air. _"... and happy birthday to our Janu-babies Will Stills and Megan Drizzlecott!"_

Louder than ever, the applause filled the vast studio. Two hours of chewing on dry, tasteless lettuce had sucked every last ounce of joy from Will but the crowd must have found some sugar somewhere - they were hyper.

Giddier and oiler than ever, Mr. Sweaty Hands skidded towards Will and frantically pumped his arm hello.

" _Isn't it marvellous to see you both again. My... how you've grown! We can no longer call you Janu-babies, can we?"_ the presenter squeaked as Will forced a slim-line smile beneath the blinding studio lights.

" _Sit down, sit down, let's get this show started!"_

Both families took their seats either side of Simeon's tacky throne.

" _I really must start by asking how the Stills family are? We've all been so worried – we heard there was a fire! What happened?"_ snooped Mr. Don't I Look Worried?

Will lifted his top lip to speak but his father quickly interjected, _"We lost a lot of Lego..."_

"... _not the Death Star, I hope!"_ Simeon interrupted with his silly, over the top voice.

" _We lost the Town Hall. We lost the restaurant. We lost the police station."_ Bill was dead serious. His eyes were wide and unblinking. As he spoke, a trickle of sadness swept across his throat.

" _We lost the harbour. We lost the petrol station. We lost the airport. But we still have each other..."_ He then looked away from Simeon and stared directly down the camera.

" _We don't know who did it but if you are out there, if you are watching, I want you to know that we will not be defeated. Your cruelty will not make us crumble. We will start again..."_

The audience fell into a stony silence while Bill sustained his stare – his eyes watering around the edges.

"... _we will rebuild."_

Simeon felt compelled to get the show back on track,

" _Well, we are certainly glad you're okay – it is just Lego!"_ Simeon's senseless splutter ensured the silence hung around a little longer.

Bill didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The cold, hard stare lasering its way towards the insensitive presenter spoke loud enough for everyone to know just how he felt – it was not _just_ Lego. It was his life's work.

" _Wow! Well, rest assured we have got some amazing surprises for you tonight that are guaranteed to make you all feel better!"_ Simeon proceeded quickly – hoping to smash down the wall of silence that surrounded him. _"In fact, I think it might be time to reveal the first surprise of the night right now! Shall we see if you can guess what it might be? Will and Megan, if you look at the screen behind you there, you might see some clues to help you figure it out."_

The large screen above and behind their couches flicked on and an image of small, silver fish huddled closely together appeared,

" _Anyone?"_ Simeon asked, flicking his head left and right between Janu-boy and Janu-girl as if he was a nervy meerkat.

" _Eh... are we going to Sea World?"_ Megan inquired cautiously.

" _Ha! No! Will, what about you? Would you like to guess?"_

" _Mmm, are we going fishing?"_

" _Ha! No! That wouldn't be much fun now, would it? Fishing is boring_!" Simeon squealed, clearly on a mission to offend as many people as possible. _"Why don't we try another clue?"_

A second image flicked upon the screen. It was a plastic blue and green globe – showing North and South America.

" _Have we won a holiday to Disney World?"_ Megan burst out rather excitedly.

" _No! No! No!"_ Simeon chuckled, sounding like the opposite of Santa Claus. _"Let's try another!"_

The third image of a pencil triggered a word in Will's mind that made his stomach feel like he was about to be reacquainted with a mixture of munched up lettuce and bread-sticks.

" _Please no! Please no!"_ Will thought as his face flushed red and the tips of his fingers tingled. _"Don't you dare say that word!"_

" _I know, I know!"_ Megan suddenly shouted.

" _Yes? Go on then, tell us what it is!"_ Simeon summoned, sporting his trademark Cheshire smile.

" _Are we going to school?"_ Megan jabbed.

Will jolted backwards in his seat as the audience clapped and Simeon stood up.

" _Well, my, my... aren't you a clever girl! Yes, Mr. Ruperts has decided that you are now old enough to start school and he has enrolled you both in St. Edna's School for the Rich and Gifted."_

The big black cameras swivelled manically from face to face, and each expression was more bewildered than the last. The Stills were dizzy. The Drizzlecotts were still.

Will knew the cameras were staring. He knew everyone expected him to smile but he knew that if he opened his mouth even a millimetre, he would puke up Peter Rabbit's paradise. Horrid images of his turd birthday flashed across his mind.

" _How can I go to school? It won't be safe! What about Mr. Green? What about dad? What's he going to do?"_ As soon as he thought of one question, it quickly quadrupled. _"What about books? Stationery? Who's going to pay for all of this?"_

" _And don't worry, Mr. Ruperts has said he will pay for it all!"_ Simeon announced as the audience oohd an extra long oooh.

" _Oh great!"_ Will's thoughts kept on tumbling. _"At least it's January, I probably won't be starting until September – that's ages away."_ he optimistically hoped as his mother and father squeezed each of his hands, offering their silent support.

" _And best of all – you both start tomorrow!"_ Simeon continued to drop bomb shell after bomb shell from his flailing lips. _"January 8_ th _will be your first day at school. And Mr. Ruperts has prepared your uniforms, your school bags and your pencil cases. In fact, they should be at home by the time you get there tonight. So, you've no excuses for being late tomorrow."_

Right on cue, the massive double doors slid open and out walked a young boy and girl, the same age and height as both Megan and Will.

Beneath blood red blazers, they sported a white shirt with a red and black tie snaking around their necks. Their dark grey trousers and skirts perfectly reflected Will's mood.

He could not bear to look. His breath was panicked. His mouth was dry. His hair dripped at the tips with sweat while his heart pounded against his chest like a wrecking ball trying to smash through thick brick. He tried to smile but as soon as he did, he felt another tsunami of tears well up within his throat.

Will had never felt like this before.

Yet he was about to feel a whole lot worse.

## Chapter 40 – Beans & Baguettes

During the first ad-break, Will tried everything he could to dampen his distress but his head was already pounding.

He had never known anyone who had been to prison but in that moment, he could imagine exactly how they felt.

No say.

No input.

No control.

Will felt like a chess piece being shuffled about by fat, grubby fingers who pinched his head and pushed him around.

Flicking back to red, the lights on the black swively cameras were back on and Simeon was stirred back to life.

" _Welcome back world and now it's time for our first challenge of the evening."_

The dreaded scoreboard descended as Will's tummy tumbled a full three sixty. The sight of the large and extra-large presents being wheeled out did not help – he knew his luck was up.

As he peered upwards, he was baffled by what he saw. Going to school was only the first surprise:

Stills – 0, Drizzlecotts – 0.

" _After three years of Will vs. Megan, we thought that it was time to mix it up a little! So tonight, Will and Megan are going to take a rest – remember you both have a big day tomorrow. Tonight, it will be the mums and dads who'll fight it out for the extra-special prize."_

Both utterly baffled, Gill and Bill exchanged glances glazed in hideous horror.

" _What on earth are we going to have to do?"_ Gill thought to herself.

As if he could read her thoughts, Simeon explained, _"Round 1 will see Mum vs. Mum as they go head to head in our... Supermarket Sweep."_

Just then, two large floor panels at the front of the stage zipped open and two shining trolleys emerged – gleaming like silver chariots beneath the studio lights.

Gill looked utterly perplexed. Her right leg gyrating, her teeth clenched.

" _Why didn't we listen to Ken O'Brien?"_ she whispered quietly to Bill as the cameras zoomed in on the trophy-like shopping trolleys.

" _Mummies – as the ladies of the household, we thought we would test your shopping abilities,"_ Simeon sniped as he waved his right arm and the giant doors parted to reveal a real-life, fully-stocked shopping aisle.

" _Ten special items are hidden in amongst the day to day groceries. All of these items will delight your children and all you have to do is drive your trolley up the aisle and rummage through the merchandise – whatever you've located after two minutes, you get to keep. Whoever discovers the most special items will also get a point on the board."_

The audience _oohd_ a big, silly _ooh_ as Gill shot each and every one of them the most menacing stare she could design. It was her husband, Bill, who did the shopping - not her and she was rather disgusted with the old-fashioned assumption that just because she's the mum, it must be her who refills the fridge,

" _How could I have time to the shopping when I've got all that washing, hoovering, knitting and sewing to do?"_ she silently and sarcastically seethed.

" _Ladies, its' time to grab your trolley!"_ Simeon barked as if he was lining up sprinters in the final of the hundred metres. _"Oh, and did I mention – some of our food is a little... explosive!"_ the greasy top tittered, knowing full well he hadn't mentioned it at all.

Gill wrapped her fingers around the handle of the trolley so tightly her knuckles turned white. A slight smirk rippled across her lips as she briefly considered driving the chariot straight at slippery Simeon – she imagined his little legs dangling in the air as he toppled head first into it.

" _And your time starts.... Now!"_ the presenter squealed.

Gill scurried toward the shelves to her left while Mildred made a bee line for those to her right. Both mums rummaged through the fruit section – flapping at apples, picking through pears - sending a flurry of fruit tumbling across the floor. Parting pineapples, Gill fumbled frantically, desperate to get her hands on that first special item. She'd just spotted a Star Wars action figure when out of nowhere; a jet of strawberry sauce squirted towards her, covering her face, jamming her eyes shut.

" _Ha, Ha, Ha!"_ the scornful Santa sneered with his audience in toe.

Swiftly clearing the gunk with her sleeve, Gill whisked the item into the trolley and zoomed onto the next section. Mildred had somehow dodged the jam and was still looking resplendent in her white dress. She was clearly a very experienced shopper.

Skidding a little on the jam beneath her feet, Gill swiped bottles of washing up powder and bleach out of her way.

Nothing.

She kicked the neatly stacked tower of toilet tissue standing on the bottom shelf.

Nothing.

As she prodded her palm between bottles of Super-Shine Shampoo, a stream of sickly soap squirted towards her - some of it landing right in the back of her open mouth. Spitting it straight out into her hand, she rubbed the sickly sludge into her dress and thought _, "Supermarkets certainly have changed!"_

As she wiped the rest of the pink, snot-like substance away from her lips, she spotted a little box of Lego hiding behind the boxed tubes of toothpaste.

" _Sixty seconds left!"_ Simeon shrieked as Gill lobbed the Lego in to the trolley. It had been the most miserable minute of her life but she couldn't give up – she had to win that point. A quick glance to her right made matters worse – Mildred had at least four items in her trolley! And rather unbelievably, Mildred looked Sunday morning fresh – she hadn't been slimed or squirted by anything.

Grabbing the trolley handle tighter, Gill flicked her wrist as if she was revving a race-car engine.

" _You want to shop..."_ she thought _"... let's shop!"_

As if she was giving them a really big hug, Gill threw her arms around a shelf full of bean cans. Well it did until she crudely sent them all crashing onto the floor. The racket of tin on tiles filled the studio as Gill plucked a signed photograph of Luke Skywalker out from the back of the shelf and popped it into her trolley in one move. As soon as the photo hit the trolley, a big bucket of cold beans plopped onto Mrs. Stills from above. Though she was utterly disgusted, she just didn't have time to paint her feelings across her face.

Instead, she kicked out her right foot and toppled a tower of sardine tins over before doggedly digging in behind. Whatever she had discovered, it was promptly flicked over her shoulder, straight into the trolley like a basketball trick shot.

" _30 seconds left!"_ Mr. Time Keeper ticked.

Gill knew she had four special prizes but she didn't have time to check how well marvellous Mildred was doing. Launching herself into a wall of neatly stacked loaves of bread, she pushed and prodded, hoping to feel something different brush against her hand.

Nothing.

Just as she stooped down to the shelf below, an avalanche of crusty baguettes tumbled from the ceiling above.

Stained by strawberry, smothered by soap, buried in beans, battered by baguettes – Gill Stills was drained but with only _"10 seconds left!!"_ she was determined to make each one count.

With one final flurry, she used the bottom two shelves as a step and clambered up as high as she could, sweeping everything with one swipe of her arm down into the trolley below. The mucky chariot was quickly filling up.

" _5!"_ Simeon cried.

The weary woman, using her last ounce of energy, leaned as far as she could to the right and swept the entire contents of the next shelf down into the stuffed trolley with the back of her arm. It was a risky strategy to just hope the special items were somewhere amongst the rubble but she had to do something.

" _2....1... and your shopping is done!"_ the goon giggled, delighted with his rhyme.

Smothered in breadcrumbs and jam, the walking sandwich simmered with rage. And it wasn't long before the simmering soon boiled over into full blow fury as Gill looked up and spotted her perfectly primped neighbour looking like she was heading for a wedding.

" _Oh ho ho! It seems Mrs Drizzlecott has got quite the reflexes – it's as if you knew exactly where our little surprises were!"_ Simeon spurted as he turned up his nose at Gill and picked a bean from her shoulder.

" _Well, let's see who's won, shall we? Wow! I see the Stills family really like to get value for money with their shopping!"_ Simeon joked as the audience bent forward with forced laughter.

" _Well I suppose we didn't say you couldn't put everything in the trolley but I don't think the birthday boy will be pleased to receive seventeen bottles of shampoo!"_ Mr. Hilarious persisted.

Simeon swiftly sorted through the loaded trolley to reveal that Gill had got her sticky mitts on six items in all – two signed pictures, two Lego sets and two rare, collectible action figures (Palpatine and Darth Maul if you must know).

" _Six is nothing to sniff at..."_ Simeon sympathised _"... so let's see how the Drizzlecott shopping spree went, shall we?"_

Mildred's silver chariot was also impressively full but not with just anything. Gill already knew. She had been totting them up whilst Simeon had been counting hers.

" _8...9...10! You must shop here regularly Mrs. Drizzlecott!"_ Simeon chuckled as Megan dashed down from the couch and hugged her mother squeezy tight,

" _Careful dear, you know how much I love this dress,"_ Mildred warned as Gill clenched her teeth even tighter and briefly considered mowing her neighbour down with her trolley.

" _So, let's take a look at the scoreboard..."_ Simeon called and as he pointed towards it, the large zero beneath Drizzlecotts transforming into a wonderful one.

Will didn't run to his mum – he was so enraged at how unfair it all seemed that his whole body trembled. If he stood up, he felt his legs would buckle beneath him. His poor bedraggled, bean-covered mother (who hadn't slept all night or the night before as she was on-call at the hospital) stood beside a woman who looked like she had just returned from a fortnight in Barbados.

" _How was that even fair? She knew where everything was!"_ Will thought to himself, now completely sure that his luck had run out.

Unfortunately for Will, it was not just his mother who was in for a torrid evening.

## Chapter 41 – A Punch, A Flick, A Surprise

Dribbling giddiness, Simeon flashed a feverish grin beneath the blinding studio lights. The second half of the Big Birthday Bash was about to begin.

" _What are you going to do to my dad?"_ Will trembled, trying to fight the horrible possibilities racing through his mind. _"Please let it be Lego building! Please let it be Lego building!"_ he hopelessly prayed.

" _I don't care about the big prize."_ Will whispered quietly to Bill just before Simeon remembered how to read from the autocue.

" _So, it's down to the dads. The Drizzlecotts lead 1-0 so Mr. Stills must win or the humungous gift is going home to number 1 Ruperts Road yet again."_ Mr. Oily-Fingers warned.

Had Will spent the entire day speculating what challenge his father might be about to face, he would not have come close to guessing it right.

With that, the large sliding doors cracked open and out rolled... A BOXING RING! A RING OF BOXING! A ROXING OF BING! A BIXING OF RONG!

Bill's heart went DING! DING! as the dreadful realisation sank in... he was going to fight his monstrous neighbour on live TV.

While the Stills family glanced uneasily at one another, Wilfred Drizzlecott heaved his giant frame from the couch, punched his arm in the air and burped out a deep, gravelly, _"Yes!!"_

Gulping an extra-large gulp, Bill was rattled by the sneak preview of the fist that would soon be swinging his way.

" _Tonight... the Janu-dads will duke it out in the ring to help their little darling get their hands on the big prize. But they can only do that by getting their hands in these..."_ Simeon simmered with glee as he caught a pair of star spangled boxing gloves flung from behind the camera. _"The Janu-dad who lands the most punches in three rounds will win that all important second point. While the dads quickly pop backstage to get laced up and changed, why don't we take a look at some birthday messages from your biggest fans?"_

While Bill and Wilfred were _guided_ backstage to get suited up for their Bout of Bruising, Will and Megan were treated to yet another splurge of gushing and sniping from Earth's strangest inhabitants. These people rarely had anything sensible to say but that never seemed to stop them blabbering on...

" _Happy Birthday Megan! I can't wait for you to be president of the world! And I'd love to be your deputy. I'd do whatever you ask. I really don't care. Fetch drinks. Bake cakes. Whatever. Call me! My mobile is 077 564..."_ some curly haired wanna-be rambled before being promptly cut off.

" _Happy birthday Will! Sorry to hear about your sheds burning and all your Lego melting inside. That really sucks! Worst birthday ever. I'm sure somebody started that fire to see if you could put it out with his super cool breath. Everyone knows Will! Everyone knows..."_ a teenage boy in a pink t-shirt rambled while winking way too many times.

" _Happy birthday Will and Megan! I can't believe you're eleven already. I swear you age twice as fast as I do. I was forty when you were born and now I'm only 44."_ parped one permanently surprised pair of eye brows.

As the tireless tongues of these super fans continued to whir, Will Stills tuned out. His eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. He was hoping his blinkers could be spared from the savagery about to unfold.

" _I really wish I did have super powers so I could take dad's place and fight him instead."_ Brave Boy secretly wished.

As the screen faded to black, everyone knew what was next.

Fight time!

Pinched and panicked, Will felt like he had forgotten how to breathe. He wrapped his fingers around the edge of the couch beneath him so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Not even caring that his mother was covered in gunk and beans, he leaned tenderly into her arm, seeking the comfort he didn't know he needed.

The lights dimmed.

A loud clang of electric guitar ripped across the studio.

As the giant doors began to edge back, a faceless voice began to growl about having " _the eye of the tiger_ ". Through grey balloons of smoke, a dressing gowned Bill Stills waded, his hands dragged down by the padded mitts that smothered his trembling fingers.

" _Introducing in the red corner! No fights! No wins! No knockouts. Please welcome, Beefy Biiiiiiiilllllllllllllll Stiiiiiilllllllllsss!"_ Simeon screamed in an unusually deep voice.

Like a pack of starving dogs at a juicy meat buffet, the audience went berserk.

Not cheering. Not clapping. They were laughing like hyenas at Simeon's cruel comment.

Bill Stills was anything but beefy. In fact, he was so thin and bony that if he turned sideways, he would disappear.

Every gawking face in the studio was enraptured by this strange and hideous pantomime.

Sweat swirled around Bill's forehead and shoulders as he tried to play his part. He hoped that punching his fists together and grinding his teeth might stir some sleeping beast hidden deep, deep within him. After cracking a knuckle in his right hand, a rather optimistic thought creased his forehead,

" _Maybe there is some power in my punches after all."_

A waft of confidence rose through him and puffed out his bony chest.

It did not last long.

As soon as Wilfred Drizzlecott shunted his mass of muscle through those sliding doors – Bill's puffed out chest collapsed quicker than an untied balloon could fart itself empty.

Wilfred Drizzlecott was a monster. A huge, hulking monster of a man.

"... _.in the blue corner. No fights. Eight Wins. Fourteen knock-outs. Please welcome the wide and wild Wiilllllfrrrrreeeeed Drrrrrizzzzlleecotttt!"_ Simeon boomed in an ever-deepening voice.

The canvas tremored beneath Bill's tightly laced boots as Wilfred climbed between the ropes and quickly conquered his corner. Bill cowered in his.

The audience bawled as they frantically waved " _Go Wilfred!"_ banners which appeared out of nowhere.

Bill Stills was at least two feet from the ropes behind him but the sheer sight of his enormous neighbour made him feel like they were digging into his back. Wilfred's wrists were wider than Bill's biggest bicep and Will couldn't bear to look. Digging with his nose, he nudged himself further beneath his mother's protective arm.

" _How can I save him from this?_ " Will wondered as a jumble of ludicrous possibilities flashed across his mind,

" _Start a fire..."_

"... _fall down and pretend I'm dead..."_

"... _stand up and tell the entire world that my mum is secretly in love with Simeon..."_

"... randomly attack Megan and draw the cameras towards our scuffle."

Will's flickering fear flamed even higher as the studio speakers spat out a tinny _DING! DING!_ sound effect.

" _Round one!"_ Simeon bellowed as the duelling dads danced towards one another, trying their best to look like boxers.

" _Your poor dad. There isn't even a referee,"_ Gill whispered to her shaking son, tucked tightly beneath her arm. _"I've got to go down there."_

Leaping from the couch, Gill stomped towards the corner her husband had just vacated. _"If no one's going to fight our corner, we'll just have to support one another."_ she mumbled to Will who promptly followed behind.

" _Go on love! Knock him out!"_ Gill screamed rather optimistically through cupped hands.

" _Go on dad! Feed him a knuckle sandwich_!" Will boomed.

Despite the encouragement from his family, the opening exchanges were brutal. This was all supposed to be fun – a bit of light entertainment – but Wilfred Drizzlecott was not holding back.

He swung wildly with his left and jabbed viciously with his right.

All beleaguered Bill could do was duck and dodge the oncoming fist bombs. The audience _ooohd_ and _aaahd_ after every close shave until they were suddenly silenced,

CRACK!

Wilfred's brick fist made contact. Beefy Bill flew through the air as Wilfred's four knuckle slam sent him reeling back towards the ropes. Wobbling and wavering, Bill tried his best to stand back up but his knees creased beneath him while his swelling, throbbing nose made him look like Santa's favourite reindeer.

Unable to even peek, Will pressed his face into the back of his mother's arm. His entire body shuddered. His hands tremored. His finger-tips tingled. His nails were digging so far into the edge of the ring, he was ripping right through the taut canvas.

As the sweaty men pounded around the roped-off pit of pain in their ill-fitting shorts, the studio lights suddenly began to flicker. Slowly at first, then faster, then more intense before Simeon stood up to announce,

" _It seems like we're having some technical difficulties... don't worry, we'll get them sorted."_

DING! DING!

Round one was done and so was Bill. He truly had no idea how he was going to survive another minute in the ring with that rhino. Heaving the heavy air around him through his nostrils, he genuinely felt it might be the very last time he was able to use his nose as it might soon be swiped from his face.

Climbing in between the ropes to support their panting husbands, the wives assisted in each corner – squeezing water into mouths, towelling sweaty brows. Although Simeon was trying to summarise the main events of round 1, something was bugging him. He was pressing his finger firmly into his right ear. Something was certainly afoot. Someone was trying to tell him something.

DING! DING!

" _Round two!"_ Simeon shouted half-heartedly. There was certainly some sort of situation stirring and he was trying to figure out his next move.

" _Go on dad! Knock him out!"_ Will cheered.

With his head down and his fists up, Wilfred charged towards his bloodied neighbour. All Bill could do was dive away from the raging bull stampeding towards him. He felt like he was six years old and back in the school playground, running from the bullies who tormented him and made his childhood hell.

" _If I can't beat him, I'll just have to outrun him!"_ Bill mumbled through his bruised lips.

While Bill ran for his life, Simeon was still utterly distracted.

Crack!

A wild and ferocious punch had landed – Wilfred's darting fist had landed squarely on Bill's chicken bone jaw.

Lying face down in the canvas, a streak of blood marked the trail of Bill's slow-motion stumble. Wilfred hovered over him, gnashing his teeth, just waiting to land the killer blow. He really wanted that point.

Without thinking, Will sprung beneath the bottom rope and threw himself over his father's motionless body. He had to put a stop to this carnival of chaos. Slamming his hand into the canvas, the birthday boy eyeballed his merciless neighbour and screamed,

" _Leave my dad alone! Leave him alone!"_

In that moment, the raging boy desperately wished he did have super powers and he knew exactly who he wanted to use them on.

" _Get up dad! C'mon dad, you're the King! Get up dad! You're the king dad. Come on dad. Get up and get out of the ring! The stupid point doesn't matter!"_

As the studio lights flickered above him, Bill started to stir. Though his eyes were open, he was nowhere near ready to stand.

" _Get up!"_ Will raged one final time before his battered father finally sat up and offered a bloodied grin.

" _I'm the clown."_ Bill slurred through his red-streaked teeth as his son almost squeezed the last breath from his lungs with a python-tight hug.

Simeon was still pressing his finger to his ear. If he pressed it any harder, it would likely have come through the other side. With a nod of his head, he suddenly left his throne and jumped into the ring himself.

" _Why don't you punch this guy!"_ Will thought to himself, hoping his neighbour might attack anyone who dared enter the ring.

Fussing and faffing, Simeon positioned himself between the badly bruised Bill and his spick and span opponent.

" _Unfortunately, I'm going to have to stop the fight!"_ Simeon announced in his jumping bean voice _. "It seems like we have some breaking news... some huge breaking news... so huge it seems to be interfering with our studio lights."_

The boxer and the punch bag stiffened and joined the audience and everyone else in staring expectantly at Simeon Bonaventure. Prodding a finger into his ear-piece once more, the presenter frantically nodded. His eyes lit up. This _huge_ breaking news had just been confirmed,

" _Wow, wow, wow! This is truly amazing. It looks like we're going to have to cut our live feed and go straight to St. Michael's Hospital..."_ warbled Mr. I'm Getting to The Point

" _After eleven years, it seems January 7_ th _is about to deliver once more. They're not here yet but I've been assured with just a few hours to go until January 8_ th _, it's looking like we might have a brand-new January 7_ th _baby! And not one... not two... but three new Janu-babies!"_

## Chapter 42 – Salad and Snow

" _I'm sorry to say folks but we're going to have to cut the party short tonight."_ Simeon announced as the audience groaned a comical, pantomime groan while the black swively cameras dropped their heads and stopped staring.

While Wilfred's disappointed arms flopped down by his sides, Bill Stills didn't need to be told twice. Instantly, he slipped between the ropes and fled the perimeter of pain with the assistance of his wife and son.

" _I've just been told they're going to keep the cameras on in St. Michael's. They're interviewing all the family and hoping to speak to the dad soon!"_ Simeon explained. _"Oooh, isn't this so exciting? Looks like you're going to have some Janu-brothers and sisters. Imagine if they're even more special and more amazing than you two!"_ Simeon squealed insensitively at Will and Megan.

" _So, can we go?"_ Bill cautiously inquired while gleefully snapping at his gloved fingers, trying and failing to rip them off with his strawberry coloured teeth.

" _Not until the medical team check you over Mr. Stills."_ Tracey interrupted out of nowhere. _"Our doctor needs to take a look at you. You did take quite a blow to the head!"_

" _The rest of you are welcome to wait."_ Simeon quickly interjected. _"Feel free to have another pick at the buffet before you go. There's plenty left. We've asked the drivers to be ready for you when you are."_

" _But who gets the giant present?"_ Megan interrupted, determined to not go home empty handed.

" _Oh, I hadn't thought of that. I'm so sorry. Silly me."_ Simeon apologised _. "I'm just so excited. I can't wait to see these new Janu-babies. Triplets! Isn't that amazing?"_ Simeon gushed again, avoiding the question.

The giant present was awarded to Megan who chirped cheerfully as the four panels collapsed to reveal a mini jet-ski.

A look of utter bemusement waltzed across Will's face as he opened the smaller box and wondered, _"What am I supposed to do with scuba gear?"_

" _Don't worry love, we'll try it out in the pool at home."_ Gill consoled instantly as if she could somehow read her son's mind. At least Will didn't have to force a smile for the cameras.

With his tummy rumbling and his head pounding, Will took his mother's hand and asked, _"Mum, can we just go home? I really don't want any more lettuce."_

" _As soon as your dad gets the all clear, we'll go_." Gill sympathetically replied.

" _Hope you have a great first day at school."_ Tracey _kindly_ reminded as Will waited by the revolving door, wishing it and the rest of this nightmare day would revolve a little quicker. _"Your new books and uniform have already been delivered to the house!"_

" _Can't wait!"_ Will shouted quite aggressively, forgetting to add a pinch of sarcasm.

By the time Bill got the all clear from the medic, a furious snow fall had begun to whirl and was already settling upon the ready and waiting limo.

" _Oh wow, a snow storm_! _This snorkel might come in handy when all this snow melts."_ Bill observed as he grabbed a handful of snow and touched it gently upon his swollen nose before he climbed into the limo.

" _I hope it's not like this at home! Remember the last snow storm we had. It was so thick and so high, it even came through the letterbox and ruined the carpet."_

" _I think damp carpets are the least of our worries."_ Gill whispered as she nudged her husband and nodded towards the utterly dejected eleven-year-old slumped into the black leather opposite them.

" _Do I really have to go to school?"_ the scowl spoke as he briefly un-slumped.

" _Well, if they're not going to send a tutor anymore, we really don't have any choice bud_." Bill calmly explained much to his wife's surprise.

" _But you said there'd be no more parties. You said that you'd talk to Mr. Ruperts!"_ Will bit back.

" _Alright... take it easy."_ Bill counselled, trying to ease his son's agitation. " _As soon as he's back from his business abroad, I'll be speaking to him. I'll ring first thing tomorrow and book an appointment with his secretary."_ Bill assured.

" _But why can't I wait 'til' September – when the new year starts_?" Will continued to push, hoping to force open some sort of loop-hole he could escape through. Though Gill opened her mouth to answer, she was interrupted once again,

" _I don't think so, yer better off going in tomorrow and getting it over with – ya don't need it hanging over ya all summer! It's going to take us all a while to figure out what we're going to do and where we're going to live."_ Badly Bruised Bill consoled.

" _They'll all know me, they'll have seen the videos on YouTube, they'll all tease me!"_ Will cried. His temper was rising.

" _If they do, it will only be for a day or two – I promise they'll get bored of it very quickly if ya laugh along with them and don't give them the reaction they want..."_ exclaimed Bill while his wife stared at him open mouthed, wondering who this man was taking charge of the situation. _"... you're eleven now, it's time to start makin' some friends. The whole world knows ya but you hardly know anyone. I promise you, everything will be fine. By next week, ya'll be wondering why ya..."_

" _It's easy for you to say... you don't even have a job!"_ Will rudely interrupted.

Gill would have stepped in but she couldn't...

... as the limousine suddenly skidded.

## Chapter 43 – Full Circles

The faint blue light on the dashboard had just blinked 11.01pm when the snow-covered car lost its grip of the road. As Trent turned left around a blind bend, rotating rubber met black ice and the steering wheel was no longer under his control.

A more experienced driver might have steered into the spin and avoided the brakes but the novice replacement panicked, pulled the wheel in the opposite direction and jammed both feet upon the brake.

Suddenly, the back wheels of the limo spun right across the middle of the road like an out of control clock hand in reverse. The long, lean car had become an unavoidable road block for oncoming traffic.

Upon the slushy road, the black arrow spun quietly, almost elegantly. But inside Bill and Gill were instantly pinned to the back of their seats, their desperate, flailing arms trying to grab hold of their young son who sat opposite them.

But Will did not reach back.

He had lived this moment and survived this moment a hundred times before. The spiral was spinning and he knew exactly what he had to do.

The clouds were about to part.

The sun was about to shine.

While everyone else twitched and shivered within the whirling mass of metal, Will calmly pushed the button that opened the sun roof.

A beeping 4X4, coming in the opposite direction, slammed its brakes and just swerved on to the verge as the back of the limo swung across its path.

Rising out of the roof, Will was now tall enough that his arms and shoulders cleared the top of the car.

And he resisted the spin.

Twisting and turning his body, Will pushed with everything he had against the cold, black air that spiralled around him. The car below was trying to bully him, forcing him to spin in its direction but he knew he could fight it. He could feel it. He had to become the eye of this hurricane... the centre of this cyclone.

Below, Gill screamed and clawed at her son's feet, fearing it might only be seconds before the waxed black doors were bent and crumpled around her. She was terrified that her son would be flung from the car like a rag doll.

But Will was calm...

He finally understood what the storm meant... what the dream meant.

As he pushed his arms into the cold night air, he felt an energy pulse through him.

Though the car decelerated slightly, it was still twisting wildly and it was now facing the wrong direction. Trent froze with fear as he spotted headlights coming around the same corner he had just skidded on. Though he punched the car horn, he was sure it was too late.

Metal was about to meet metal.

But the warning was somehow heard as the oncoming car slowed just in time, just before it took the corner, just missing the black ice and the backwards limo spinning beyond it.

Will could not see... he could not hear. Everything he had was focused on this fight. Whipping his arms and elbows, he leaned his right shoulder into the spin... pushed against the wind, the night, the four-door cyclone that were all working against him...

... but he was becoming...

... he was awakening...

... he was a greater force than all of them combined.

Yet the limo had now spun a full 360 and was heading off the side of the road. The cyclone may have eased but Trent still could not command the wheel. They were seconds from crashing, moments from smashing.

Yet nothing could ruffle this eleven-year-old boy.

Twisting his torso, Will stretched his arms as far to the right as he could. Wrapping his fingers around the top of the windscreen, he dug his feet into the floor below and pressed his chest into edges of the open roof. Though the hard metal rattled his ribs and bruised his skin, he did not care. He hardly felt it.

No matter how hard it tried to push him, Will refused to move in the direction of the storm.

And it was working... the spin was slowing.

Yet this was not a dream. Though that tornado tortured his thoughts and disturbed his sleep, this cyclone could see to it that he never woke again.

Only 4 or 5 seconds had passed since the limo hit the ice but the next second might be his last. A quick click of fingers separated the spinning limo from the road side barrier and the steep ditch beyond it.

But the boy still pushed.

Clawing his nails into the snow-covered ceiling, Will thumped his body as hard as he could against the open roof and released a deafening growl that echoed into the cold, dark night around him.

The street lights above flickered... the spiral eased... and eased until...

Trent finally felt the steering come back under his control and gently steered the limo to the right, settling it back in to the centre of the lane. As he kicked his right foot into the pedal... somehow, they were clear... somehow they'd survived.

Not a dent. Not a scratch.

As Will crouched back down into the limo, Bill Stills stared at his son, open mouthed, unblinking.

It was one minute past eleven on the 7th day of January and Will Stills 2.0 had just been born.

