KATIE & Sarah in:
The Madness of sarah wear-a-hat

29th July 2003

Yay! I got a new diary today! At least I think it’s a diary, it could be a dairy but there are no chickens, so I’m ruling that out.
Today I went to the moon with my shoe, but that was when I was asleep so I don’t think it counts, does it? Also I went to my friend Katie’s house. She’s green. I like her shoes.
Anyway, when I was at Kathy’s house something very strange happened. Mr Hounsell wasn’t there! Oh, wait, I mean Mr Harris wasn’t there. I asked Katsup where he was and she replied “Cheese, Sockface I honestly don’t have a bananas!” So I was officially on the case.
First, I called Mr Goodrich. He said “How are you?” and I said “Good, I need frogs.” That was the first thing that caught my eye. Mr Harris had obviously taken no frogs with him. This was not the slightest bit suspicious.
So I decided to call Mr Harris’s house and see if he was home. He lives with Katie. I was at her house. I discovered that you cannot ring the phone you are ringing from, it is very weird. Suspicious too, I thought. What if Gareth had wanted to call himself? 
I had an idea. It hurt. So I decided not to have any more. I went to the local B&Q and looked in the hardware isle. I found a chainsaw. Chainsaws are not toys.
After my experience with the chainsaw, I came home. Actually, I got lost and went to McDonalds. I am writing this from inside Fat Guy’s stomach, he ate me after mistaking me for a large burger. 
*Note to self: Must not climb into fryer in search of Katie’s husband.*

30th July 2003

Today I made a resolution - I was going to eat a bacon, cornflake, cheese, and prawn cocktail crisp sandwich. Then I made another resolution - to find Mr Harris. So I made my way out of Phil’s stomach and set off towards the school. Ugh. School bad. Tree pretty.
I climbed over the school gates. It took me three hours. When I finally got to the other side, in my boredom I had a conversation with my shoes, Harold and Frank. They told me of the economic instability in Russia. I was very concerned.
Just as we finished chatting, Mr Harris’s car sped out the gates. Drat, I missed him.
It took me another three hours to get out.
I went back to Kathy’s house. Her mum makes pie. I eat it a lot. After I’d eaten all the pie, Kyle said: “You ate all the pie!” She then said “Did you find Mr Harris yet? My socks need air freshener from Sainsbury’s. I love chickens.” At least, that’s what I think she said….
I replied: “No, John, I didn’t find the eggs.” I left, still confused about the whereabouts of Jessica Miller. Oh wait, Mr Harris.
I went home. I found it this time.

31st July 2003

I had a very distressing day today. I couldn’t find my slippers. I cried into my brother’s cereal. He was eating it whilst painting his nails on a skateboard. Clearly he is not as sane as I am.
I went to tomorrow to fish for unicorns in the sky. Flies bother me, so I ate them. 
Goodnight.

1st August 2003

Today I continued my pursuit of Geraldine Harris. Oh wait, that should be Gareth. Anyway, I went to Mr Harris’s office at school - thankfully the gate was open today. It took me four hours to get inside. Walking is hard.
In his office there was a sign saying “Be right back.”
So I waited. While I was waiting, I decided to write a serious poem.

One fine day in the middle of the night
Two dead men got up to fight
Back to back the faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other
A paralysed donkey passing by
Kicked a blind man in the eye
Knocked them through a six inch wall
Into a field and drowned them all!


This upset me. I cried into my cereal. I had forgotten to put down my cereal when leaving the house. It was stuck in my hair.
Mr Harris did not return. I inspected his office for clues, but all I found were undergarments belonging to a mysterious brunette, namely Katie. It was time to bring in the big boys.
I picked up the phone.
“Hello? Is that Henry Heffer?”
“Yeh. Who is this?”
“Sarah Louise Hatstand of East Cupcake, Illinois.”
“If this is you, Lily, I’ll….”
“No! No, it’s me, Sarah? Don’t you remember me?”
“But I don’t know anyone called Sarah, I…”
“Thank you, anyway, I need help looking for a friend of mine, Gareth Onglebongle of the Chicken Shack, Ohio….”
“WHO THE HELL IS THIS???”
“Tony Blair, I told you!”
“GOODBYE!”
“But…..I…..But….”
Beep beep beep.

That put an end to that. Clearly I would have to continue my investigation alone.
I went home to find my brother doing unspeakable things to Alice. I filmed it and sent it to all my friends.

2nd August 2003

Today I received twenty e-mails from myself. It was of my brother shagging Alice. I wonder who sent it.
Whilst sitting in a tree, I had a sudden thought. What would happen if I didn’t find Mr Harris? I could see the news now….

CHICKENS EVERYWHERE WAIL AT LOSS OF HARRIS

Today was a mournful day in today. Ugly mug Sarah Bumface forgot to find our beloved Music teacher Gareth Dingdong Harris, and we fear he may have been captured by Lily, who cuts people up and eats them in an overcooked stew. We asked his wife, Katie Harris, who said;
“Boo hoo hoo! I’m going to kill you Sarah, waa waa waa! Gareth! Boo hoo hoo!”
Gary was patron saint among us cows. Help fund our “In memory of Harris” park bench by sending us all your loose teeth.

This was dreadful! I had to find Mr Harris- and fast! I called in at the police station to see if they had any further information. I was arrested for nudity in public - in my haste to get out of the tree I had forgotten to retrieve my clothing from the alligator. This was way upsetting. 
My mother asked me what on earth I had been thinking. I told her nothing. That much was true. My dinosaurs like ice-cream on a Sunday, but only in small amounts. Too much gives them spots. EVERYWHERE.



3rd August 2003

When I woke up today I knew. I just knew.
I knew I wasn’t dead.
Phew
I continued my search.
My search led me to small bar in East Bath, where I met a very strange person. It was Alice. She said Hi, so I ran away sharpish. What a terrifying ordeal. 
Anyway, whilst running away I tripped over something in the street. It was a record. 

THE RECORD: Something has gone terribly wrong...
 (Note: you will need to have the internet running)

I listened to it. It was great! I bought 10,000 copies. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something. It was Mr Harris! I gave chase.
Argh! Then I fell in a puddle.
Argh! Frosties!
Argh! Kellogs Cornflakes!
I finally caught up with Mr Harris, and I grabbed hold of his arm. This was not sensible, as he was driving at 60 mph along the M1 by now. He swerved as I climbed in the window and sat on the steering wheel.
“What the f***! Get off! I’m tryin’ to steer! Aaargh!!!”
We crashed into a field of corn. I hurt my shoes. Mr Harris cried
“Whad’ya to that for???”
“Cheese?”
He slapped me round the face several times.
“Now, tell me again. Why have you been following me?”
“Because you’re missing.”
“No I’m not, I’m here!”
“But you weren’t before. You’re hiding something aren’t you?!”
“I’ve been to Manchester to get Katie a surprise present!”
“Which would be what?”
“A holiday to Barbados! Katie said she wanted to go there! Now get your knee out of my spine!”
“Aha! A likely story. You don’t even know you wife’s name! She’s called Winston Egbert, not Katie!”

Then I was arrested for indecent behaviour and distracting drivers.

4th August 2003

I woke up today in a prison cell.

Multiple offences, they said. They told my parents that I probably had mental issues and needed professional help before I went completely off the rails. They said the same thing to my brother. He just went “Aww, stuff it!” And fell asleep in his cornflakes. How did they get there? Who knows...?

My parents took me home. Then my dad said;
“Never, ever again, will George Bush infiltrate our family’s needs. You must understand that in order to maintain a sensible internet connection with one another our pigs must mate daily. Never underestimate the power of cheese. Be the cheese. Love the cheese. Know the cheese. Worship the cheese. Or face the consequences.”

At least, I think that’s what he said.
I called Winston and told her that the mystery was solved. She had a go at me for breaking her lover’s arm, and told me to stay out of her life and her chicken shack.
Jeez, some people just have no respect for others. And after all that I’ve done for her has well! Huh!
I saw no other choice but to lie in my tree fantasizing about chopping Lily into millions of tiny pieces with my uncle’s rusty chainsaw, but my neighbours were not so pleased. Clearly they are not impressed by my nude sunbathing.
Oh well. Another adventure all done!
Now, where’s my slippers…… 

Hee hee hee :)