PART 1 OF 47

The sunlight beams in between the snow-covered trees, casting long shadows across ground, and making the ice gleam like diamonds in the morning glare. In front of me – wait, wait, what the heck is this? I guess I've been pleasuring myself over too much Postman Pat. Let's go for prose that can actually be read.

My name is Stephen Blake, and I'm in year 12 at school. People might think of me as an odd fellow, but all I try to do is fit in. I don't understand why I can't. I mean, I get that people would associate my type of face with the kind that sits in front of a dimly lit laptop screen each night on Neopets, but hey, the world ain't perfect. The only person I truly long for however is a boy I dream of every night. A boy of wondrous delight. My hero. Last night I dreamt that we were together in the park, talking as though friends.

If only…

'Catch up,' he yells out to me, his breathe as soft as a nightingale's song. I run up to join him, and he slows to match my pace.

'Let's go grab a drink,' he says to me. 'I'm freezing.'

We skip in time, as all dreams do, and suddenly we are sitting together on a park bench, basking in each other's warmth. Both a warmth of body and of spirit. The frozen landscape looks almost magical, cast in the low morning sun. Actually, no, sorry, that was just gay.

'So how have things been going with Holly?' he asks me, taking a sip from his cup and staring ahead. Holly is the girl who always shows up in my dreams, like my destiny. And my friend always gives his expert advice. He knows everything about women.

'It's confusing man,' I say. 'Like, sometimes when I watch her get dressed through her window, I think she sees me, but other times she plays hard to get, like when she closes her blinds. I'm not sure what the deal is. Am I annoying her?'

'That's hard bro,' he says to me, sounding valiant. 'It's so messed up huh?'

'No kidding,' I say, taking a sip. The hot drink slightly burns the roof of my mouth. Why I can feel that in a dream though, I don't know. Seems pretty pointless.

'I mean, she does live two streets over,' I continue. 'So if I want to catch her before she takes off her nightie I need to run there around 6:30. And then I have to climb the massive gumtree opposite her house to get the best view. Looking back on it, it probably wasn't the best idea to begin with, getting involved with her, but it's just confusing, you know?'

'Well bro,' he says, 'next time I'll show you the girl I'm goin' for. I watch her eat dinner and get ready for bed every night. I have the best view from her bushes outside. You should check it out. I think I'm almost in with her.'

My friend turns to me and smiles. I sigh. He's incredible. It's as if he's God. He knows everything and he's my best friend. His looks are even on par with mine, utterly unsightly. It makes me feel all the more safe. But, of course, just as I'm wishing that this dream could go on forever, I wake up. My alarm on my Sony Ericson drags me out of my blissful slumber and back into reality.

I look around me, trying to make sense of it all. I'm in my room, on my bed, on my back. The Sony Ericson, to my left on the bedside table, is going off and vibrating. I feel a puddle of moisture at my legs and I realise I've wet the bed again. My dreams truly do get me excited.

My phone goes off again. 'Damn snooze,' I say, picking it up. Managing to manifest a molecule of motivation, I meander mellowly to the murky mess of a kitchen and make a mission out of merely mixing – I'm sorry, I just wanted to see how long I could keep that disgrace going. As if that would actually go in a story.

I take a hot bath and play with my rubber ducky, before going back to my room to change the sheets. My mum has departed to be with our lord and father, and, for a reason still unknown to me my dad walked out on us soon after I was born. It's just me and my older brother. But I think he has a hangover again so if I tell him I've wet the bed for the fifth time this week I've no doubt he'll beat me silly.

Once my bed is stripped I sit on the mattress, relaying the events of my dream over and over in my head. I just wish I could go up and talk to him in real life; this magical man. He's in my grade, at the same school, but he just looks way out of my league. I always see him following all the popular guys at lunchtime, wearing this awesome leather jacket and shades. And he makes the greatest jokes ever. If only he was my friend…

My phone explodes again. I glance at it. Private Number. I pick it up and hit the green call button on the keypad. It takes a few times to push it down properly, but eventually I get it.

'Hello,' I say curiously.

'Hey man. Kelly Bugler.'

I freeze. Holy Trinity. It's as if my prayers have been answered. It's him. It's the hero from my dreams. Kelly. But why the heck is he calling a mere mortal like me?

'Ha-hallo, Kelly,' I manage to get out.

'Stephen, good to hear from you mate. I'm out the front of your place now.'

What?! He's on my property? What did I do in my past life to earn this? I smile as I look to the heavens.

'Wow. How did you get my address? And my number? That's so cool.'

There's a slight pause before he responds. 'Ah, yeah…well man, it was so funny, I broke into our school ages ago, cause I was going to hack into the mainframe and fix my grades. While I was there I was looking at all the student's info, and I saw your name, and I was like hey, Stephen Blake, he's a cool guy, so why not?'

'Wow…' I mutter, attempting to mask my amazement. 'So, ha-ha, what are your grades now? You getting all A's?'

I start to chuckle and expect him to join, but again there's a strange pause. 'Ah, nah, I couldn't actually do it,' he says. 'Because, like, I know tons about coding and shit, but something must have triggered the school alarm, because before I knew it I was bolting out of there. I did some parkour and jumped across the rooftops. I could hear the cops coming in the distance, but I escaped just in time.'

Oh my god. This guy is every bit as incredible as he is in my dreams. He can do anything.

'Anyway man, I have a little offer for you. Me and the boys are hitting up Honeysuckle for a bit of the ol' ultra-violence, you in?'

I have absolutely no clue what he just said, but I don't hesitate in replying with a yes. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. However, I am a little concerned as to who he means when he says "the boys." I doubt I'd get along with anyone as well as I would with Kelly.

I hastily pack a bag with some clothes and my reading light, and run downstairs and onto the drive. Kelly sits there on his beast of a machine, his motorbike, as if a replica of The Terminator himself. His tight leather jacket shrouds his muscular shoulders and the sunlight gleams against his stealthy shades.

'Hop on,' he says to me.

I eventually come to realise that we must be heading down to the camping spot called Honeysuckle Creek. That's what he was garbling on the phone. The wind rushes through my hair, my fingers tightening against Kelly's strong waist. Most of the trip is spent in silence, however occasionally I hear him making sounds as if talking, but in varying voices. It's as though he's having a conversation, but with himself.

'Fuck the both of you. I'm just saying, in comparison to the States, it's pretty fucking slim pickings here eh,' I hear at one point. Then he changes his voice, however keeping it low, as if he doesn't want me hearing. 'I'll agree with you on that one.'

At points I attempt to make out what it is he's talking about, but it's so garbled and poorly spoken that it's nigh impossible. Still, it only adds to the mystery that is Mr Bugler.

As we travel on, I begin to catch a particular scent that could only project that of my hero's. I lean in closer to Kelly's neck, and sure enough, after a sniff, I recognise the smell as one I have taken in before, hiding behind him at the school urinal and stuff like that.

I crane my neck a little more to soak up each wave of Kelly's sweet attar, but as I do the bike lurches forward, and I smack my face into his back. The bike comes to a grating stop, the tires squealing athwart the tarmac, drowning my senses with both the sound and smoke.

'Shit,' Kelly says, jumping off to see the damage.

I pull myself off too and it becomes apparent as to what caused the sudden lurch. Between the spokes of the front wheel is a mangled and bloodied animal corpse. About five yards behind us is the bottom half, looking to have exploded in a pool of its own faeces. There are reds and browns and blacks stained across its innards, which have been spat out in a tangled mess. What I can discern as the large intestines look to be wrapped once around the behind of the creature, and the smaller of the intestines, a sickly grey in colour, lies entangled in pieces of excrement as well as a few small organs that must have spilled out along the way. Between us and that pretty picture is a trail of innards and gore, as well as further evidence of the beast's last supper. The animal seems to have been dragged along with us, and the friction must have torn it in two. But what I'm enthralled by the most is the top half, jammed between the axel and the wheel, to see that it is still twitching and emitting a desperate drone.

I giggle. It's beautiful. Normally I wouldn't overdo it like that with excruciating detail (that isn't at all relevant), but I did warn you. I ain't what you'd call your classic Joe Blow.

'It's a wombat,' I say. 'It's unfortunate it –'

'Exactly,' Kelly cuts in. 'A wombat. It wouldn't have done much damage.'

I take a glance at the bike. The front tyre is down for the count, looking to have been flattened by the wombat's impact. Also, most of the body towards the front has been smashed up. It's certainly in no condition to drive. It could even be beyond repair.

'Actually, it looks like it's –'

'Don't worry mate,' Kelly interrupts with once more. 'I know my vehicles, and I know my animals. We're good to go.'

I don't want my hero to get hurt. I want to advise him contrary to getting back on the bike, but I wouldn't dare speak against someone like Kelly. He'd probably snap me in two just with that sharp gaze.

'So, ah, what do we do about the wombat?' I ask.

Kelly moves to the front wheel, and grabs the animal and pulls. There's a tearing sound and I think I hear something break. He jumps back with a high-pitched scream.

'It's al-live!' he blubbers. I hate to see my champion upset.

I move to the wheel and carefully remove the rest of the wombat myself, using my foot.

'Oh…yeah,' Kelly says. 'I got most of it out anyway, but thanks.'

I shudder, basking in my master's praise. He gets on the bike first and revs the engine.

'See?' he grins at me. 'Purring like a kitten!' He revs it again. 'Yeah baby! I told you, my bike speaks to me. We're ready to roll!'

It takes us three hours to walk to the campsite. The engine in Kelly's bike imploded when he laughed and revved it for a third time.

I wished he'd trusted me enough to listen to my advice. But most of all I just feel sorry for my comrade, having lost his prize possession and now having to walk all this way just to meet up with friends. I begin to regret coming with him at all. I don't belong in Kelly's world of heroism and diligence. Why would someone that great want to be with someone like me?

I asked if Kelly could use his phone to call up his friends at the campsite, but he said it was dead. But no matter, the long walk at least gave me time to soak up every last drop of the legend's unblemished aura. Just walking beside him is enough to give me goosebumps.

We arrive at our destination a little downtrodden and certainly tired, but I knew Kelly wouldn't give in without a fight. He'd still have more of his wondrous wisecracks and wisdom to impart before the day was done.

We're on the dirt track leading into the grassed areas on Honeysuckle. Up ahead I see that a few tents have been set up, and there's a fire going in the pit. A few boys I recognise from school are sitting around it, engaged in what I can perceive as a conversation of heightened hilarity. Around their particular area are two cars with the "P" plates pasted to the grills.

I'm a little worried as to this particular crowd of boys. I know they tease me at school for the way I talk, but I just can't help it when I get excited. It happens with lots of things. Spider-man, Club Penguin, when the kindergartners are playing on the oval. But most of all, my hero, Mr. Bugler. So I know I can trust that if he's here, there's nothing to worry about.

'G'day benders!' Kelly calls out to the boys as we approach. 'Fuck I fucking didn't fucking fuck to come the fuck to fuck!'

I smile. This must be some language only the cool boys use. I know I'm in good hands. Kelly knows what's up. I see a few of the boys lean in and say something quietly amongst themselves, before returning their attention to Kelly.

'Oh, hey, Kelly,' one of them says. 'Didn't know you were gonna be here, man. But yeah, sweet, you should ah, set up if you got a tent. If not you could just go in with Lucas, he has a four man.'

Kelly's gaze is focused on Jack, the boy talking, and not Lucas. But I see Lucas shaking his head quickly at Jack. I knit my brows, confused about this. I wonder if Kelly noticed.

'Oh it's cool man, it's fucking cool fuck, ha-ha,' Kelly replies. 'I got a tent and I think Mr. Blake hear needs to be civilised as to the ways of the bush. If I don't fucking help him out it's just going to be a pig's affair.' Kelly breaks out into laughter and I join him, not really knowing what he said but having no doubt it was hilarious.

Jack nods once. 'Yeah alright Kelly.'

'But I mean, I might not have room for Steve with all the biddies around,' Kelly continues with a grin.

'The fuck?' one of the boys says.

'You know, the chicks. I'm sure there'll be plenty of bored, teenage girls out with their families, looking to loose themselves in a little dabble in temporary bigamy. They don't know me, and I don't know them, and that's the way it's gonna stay! It's easy pickings mate!' He begins to make thrusting motions with his hips, and I chuckle alongside. I knew that the three-hour journey hadn't taken away Kelly's mojo.

Everyone around the campsite is silent for a moment, and Kelly finally picks up his bag and heads off towards the back of the area to set up. I quickly fall in his wake to follow. As we leave, I hear a couple of the boys commenting quietly behind.

'Does that even make sense?' one of them says.

'No,' someone replies.

'What makes even less sense is what the fuck he's doing here,' another boy hisses. 'He's going to be worse than usual. And who invited Prince Kong as well?'

'His server on Minecraft must have crashed. He's got nowhere else to go except the real world.'

I kept walking, unsure as to what they're talking about. They must just be reciting some of Kelly's old crackers or something. I follow my master to the back of the campsite and he begins pulling out the tent from its sleeve.

'Thanks for letting me share,' I gather the courage to say. 'This will be magical, I know.'

Kelly glances at me. 'Yeah, man, no worries.' I see him look towards the boys back at the fire, and for some reason his eyes grow grim. Must be tired, I think to myself.

For several minutes Kelly spreads out the tent, laying it on the ground, picking it up again, taking out the rods and laying those down too. He scratches his forehead a few times.

'If you don't know how to put this up I'm sure I can work it out,' I suggest. 'Runescape is actually way more knowledgeable than people think.'

'What?' Kelly stutters. 'Dude, back in Scouts I was always the fastest in the tent making shit. It gave me more time to clean my hunting knife and find the Troop dinner. But still, it wasn't what I'd call as easy as it is to get in with Carly Farrington! Or should I say, get into!' He laughs, keeling over, and I choose to chuckle hesitantly. 'Anyways,' he continues, 'I'm just saying, it's not like tents are new to me.'

I nod, glad that he's on top of it. It was silly of me to question the master's skill. I send up a quick prayer for forgiveness.

'Hey, Steve man.'

I look to my left and see that Jack, who first addressed Kelly, is closing in on me. He's tall but seems to be in a friendly mood. He's smiling, and so I smile in return. I feel my top teeth creep over my bottom lip.

'Hello, Jack.'

'Come over and help me move some stuff from the car. We still got some food and stuff to get out.'

I glance questioningly toward Kelly, but he's scratching his forehead over the tent again, deep in thought. I don't want to disturb that prolific mind so I agree to go with Jack, and we set off without a sound. We head towards the right of the two cars, and Jack pops the boot. Digging the stuff out, we then begin making our way back.

'So what you doing here with Kelly?' Jack asks suddenly.

I rack my brain. There's so much to say about my lord and master. Where to start?

'Well, when I first saw Kelly in the cubicle, I –'

Jack blurts out a laugh. 'No, I meant today. Ha-ha, that was pretty good dude.' I'm confused. I think he thought I was making a joke or something.

'Well, um, he just kind of showed up at my house. That was crazy.'

'Yeah…' Jack mutters. 'Alright. So he said we invited him?'

I nod enthusiastically. 'Yeah! He said we're gonna go for some ultra-violence.' I can't stop myself from laughing. 'So good.'

Kelly's intellect is one thing, but it's his jokes that truly mystify me. It's as if he's raised the bar of hilarity to a level that no mere mortal will ever attain. And I think he knows it, too.