A/N: This story is based on Beat The Bomb by Andy Griffiths.
Alice and I are about to play the most incredible practical joke in the history of the world. We've been working on it for hours. And I have to say, we owe it to Edward.
My brother is always playing music. Absolutely non-stop. I guess this wouldn't be a problem, apart from the fact that his music tastes and mine rarely line up.
Let me make that never line up.
OK, so a few hours ago, Jasper and I were trying out our new net by playing hockey in the yard. It was incredible. I was winning by two goals. I swung back my stick and whacked that ball into oblivion. It was set up to be the best goal ever.
The only problem was that the ball smashed a window.
And that window happened to be Edward's.
And his music stopped immediately.
Long story short, I owe Edward a new CD player.
Anyway, the reason that I'm telling this story is that, because of what has already been dubbed "The November Hockey Escapade" – care of Esme – Edward has been sitting in his room, listening to his clock radio.
Needless to say, the rest of the family do not want him listening to his music in a communal area. It's one thing to be able to hear it clearly from upstairs, but to have it in the same room is just plain rude.
Shortly after the incident, after I'd apologised to Edward, and told Esme that I'd fix the window in the morning, and assured Carlisle that he didn't have to yell quite so loud, as I was quite capable of hearing him when he was speaking quietly, I retired to our room to watch "NHL's Greatest Goals".
And through the walls, I could hear Edward rocking out to our local radio station, Triple B.
Why it's called Triple B, I don't know.
Probably B for Boredom.
The music is kinda same old. For a local radio station, it plays a lot of classical stuff. Apparently he's in a classical mood or something. I've been treated to Mozart, Dominic Miller, Josh Groban, and of course, the old classic, Debussy.
Since he discovered that Bella likes it, he's taken to listening to a lot of Debussy. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot.
I didn't used to have anything against Debussy. But try hearing Claire de Lune twenty three times a day. It doesn't grow on you. Someday, I need to remind Edward of the old adage: distance makes the heart grow fonder.
But I'm getting off subject.
It was the radio that inspired this prank. See, the thing about Radio Boredom is that it's so goddamn boring that the only way they can get people to listen to it is by offering incentives.
And they've used the age-old incentive – competitions.
The competition of the month has been dubbed "Beat the Bomb". The formula's pretty simple. They play the ticking of a clock, with a voice-over saying ever-increasing amounts of money. Like, "Twenty six dollars... eighty nine dollars... one hundred and forty two dollars..." and you've got to stay stop. The idea is to wait as long as you can, but you've got to say stop before the bomb explodes.
If you do, you win the amount of money that you stopped it at.
Now, I realise that we Cullens have a lot of money. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot.
But there's something in me that makes me want to win. So I've sent in about fifteen postcards with my name and phone number on them. This way, it's much more likely that I'll get picked.
It's such a cunning plan; I bet no-one else has thought of it!
Anyway, back to the practical joke.
I'm sure you know about Mike Newton. He's a huge pain in the ass, who has a crush on Bella and a strangely intense hatred of Edward. He always used to ask Bella to movies and stuff, even when she was dating Edward. When they got engaged, you'd think that Newton would have taken the hint, and pissed off.
But no.
My theory is, when he heard the news, he instantly made it his mission to break the two up.
A theory which, I have to add, is backed up by Edward and his super powers.
Anyway, so because this kid is such a pain, we Cullens have taken it upon us to play jokes on him. And now that Edward and Bella are getting married in mere months, I've decided that I have to do something to get Newton off their case. How this specific joke will help, I'm not sure.
But it'll be really amusing anyway.
So, what we've decided to do is call Mike Newton, and pretend that he's been selected to play Beat The Bomb.
We're going to call him up, get him to compete and tell him it's a prank right at the end. And he'll feel like an idiot. We'll tell him it's us and, hopefully, he'll realise that he should leave Bella and our family alone.
Alice has been helping me record bits and pieces - commercials and the station theme. We've picked out a couple of songs that they play a lot, and found a really loud clock and a cardboard tube. And, I have to say, I think that I can do a fair imitation of Jason West, the host.
We're ready to go.
"You ready?"
"I'm ready."
Alice is going to be my assistant. She's taken it upon herself to press the 'play' button when need-be.
"Let's go."
I dial Newton's number into the phone, and wait for him to pick up.
"Hello, Newton residence."
"Hi, I was wondering if I could speak to Mike Newton. Is he there?"
"Sure thing. I'll just get him for you."
I hear cries of "Mike! Phone!" in the background, then footsteps and he breathes into my ear.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mike," I say, doing my best radio DJ voice. "This is Jason West from Triple B FM, and you've been selected to play Beat the Bomb."
"What?"
"You've been selected to play a game on our radio station. The rules are simple – they'll be explained to you in a minute – and you could win hundreds of dollars. Are you up for it?"
"Um... sure."
"Great. Now, if you've been listening to us, you might want to turn off your radio. We operate on a ten second delay, and I've been told that it's extremely confusing."
"Yep."
"Great. Well, we're just going to play a couple of commercials, and then you'll be on the air. Alright?"
"Sounds good."
I signal to Alice, who plays a commercial for the local Laundromat and a jingle for cereal before the station ID.
If I'm going to be honest with you, the ID is actually the only good thing about the station. The tagline is 'bringing you back in time', and the ID sounds like meteors whizzing past at approximately 10,000 miles an hour.
"And we're back at Triple B FM. I'm Jason West, and you're listening to Beat The Bomb. We have Mike Newton on the line. How're you going, Mike?"
"Yeah, I'm good, thanks."
"Great, great. So, Mike, for all the listeners at home, can you explain the rules of Beat the Bomb?"
"Sorry... I can't, Jason."
"No worries, Mike, no worries. The rules are simple. We're going to play you the sound of the bomb ticking, and you're going to hear a voice saying ever-increasing amounts of money. You've got to say stop at the amount that you want, but you've got to watch out. If the bomb explodes, you've lost the money! Sounds easy?"
"Yep, sounds good."
"Alright, let's play Beat the Bomb!"
I point to Alice, who places the clock next to the mouthpiece of the phone and hands me the cardboard tube.
I speak through the tube, trying to make my voice sounds as strange as possible.
"Sixty nine dollars... a hundred and twenty four dollars... two hundred and thirteen dollars... three hundred and seventy two dollars..."
My God. This Newton kid's got nerves of steel!
"Four hundred and two dollars... five hundred dollars...-"
"Stop!"
"Mike, do you realise what you've done?"
"What? Have I done something wrong?"
"Not at all. Mike, you've won five hundred dollars!"
"Oh... wow! Mum, I won five hundred dollars!"
I'm getting ready to start laughing and tell him that it was all a joke when I hear crying in the background.
"Sorry, Mum's getting a bit emotional. Wow... this is incredible. Thank you so much."
"No worries. If I can ask, what are you planning to do with the money?"
"Well, money's really tight at the moment. Our store really hasn't been doing that well. This is really going to help us a lot."
What?
Alice stares at me, open eyed. This is not what we were expecting to happen. Suddenly, 'just kidding!' doesn't seem quite so witty.
"Well, that's great, Mike. If you could stay on the line for a few minutes, we'll get your details. Meanwhile, here's Elton John's Crocodile Rock."
I take his details and hang up the phone. Alice stares at me.
"Didn't see that one coming!"
"Hilarious. Do you really want to give Newton five hundred dollars?"
"Well, we kind of have to now. Didn't you hear what trouble his family's in?"
"Alice, that defeats the purpose of the entire procedure. He's not supposed to get something out of this. He's supposed to be taught a lesson."
"You want to teach his family a lesson? Do you want their bills to go unpaid, and for their water and electricity to be shut off? Do you want them to starve?"
When she wants to be, she can be crazy melodramatic.
We enter into an impromptu staring match. I realise that five hundred dollars isn't a lot for us, and is a lot for the Newtons, but on a matter of principle, I refuse to give it to him out of my own pocket.
Which is the only place that it would be coming from.
I can totally see myself asking Esme for it.
"Hey, Esme, can I have five hundred dollars?"
"You've got money, Emmett. What do you want it for?"
"I played a prank joke on Newton, and now he thinks that he's won the five hundred that will feed his family, and Alice feels bad."
"Give him a thousand! He needs it more than we do. Don't be so stingy!"
Yeah, that would teach him the lesson I want him to learn.
Not.
My concentration is broken by the phone ringing.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Emmett Cullen?"
"Yes, indeed."
"Hi, Emmett," I hear. "This is Jason West from Triple B FM."
"Shit!" I mouth at Alice. "It's Jason West. He must know!"
She looks worried.
"Are you there, Emmett?"
"Yep, I'm here."
"Great. Well, your name's been picked to play Beat the Bomb."
"What?"
This can't be happening. Alice is laughing like she's never going to stop. But I'm just happy. My dream of being selected has come true! I'm one step away from winning! The timing's a bit odd, but I can overlook that.
"You've been selected to play a game on our radio station. The rules are simple – they'll be explained to you in a minute – and you could win hundreds of dollars. Are you up for it?"
"Yes! I mean, cool."
"Great. Now, if you've been listening to us, you might want to turn off your radio. We operate on a ten second delay, and I've been told that it's extremely confusing."
This is kinda déjà vu. But I can go with it!
"Well, we're just going to play a couple of commercials, and then you'll be on the air. Alright?"
"Mmm-hmm."
The commercial for the local Laundromat and the jingle for cereal come on, then the station ID. If Alice wasn't right next to me, I'd swear that she was trying to see if I'd fall for the same thing.
"And we're back at Triple B FM. I'm Jason West, and you're listening to Beat The Bomb. We have Emmett on the line. How're you going, Emmett?"
"Yeah, I'm good, thanks."
"What have you been up to this afternoon?"
Impersonating you. Prank calling people and saying that they're on your show. Not too much.
"Not too much, thanks."
"Great, great. So, Emmett, you know the rules, right?"
"I certainly do, Jason."
He explains them anyway.
"Alright, let's play Beat the Bomb!"
The clock starts ticking.
"Twenty one dollars... eighty two dollars..."
Maybe I should stop now.
No. I've got a better plan. I'll win the money that I need to pay Mike.
Brilliant!
"... two hundred and eight dollars... three hundred and seventy four dollars..."
If I can just keep my nerve for a minute longer...
"Four hundred and twenty eight dollars... five hundred and two dollars -"
"Stop!"
"Emmett, do you realise what you've done?"
"Yes," I said, dazed.
"Emmett, you've won five hundred and two dollars!"
"That's great!"
I've done it. I've won! And I can give Newton the money he 'earned', and make a profit.
"Jason, that's great. Thank you so much."
"No worries. If I can ask, what are you planning to do with the money?"
"I'm not sure yet. I'll have to think about it."
"That's fabulous. Well, if you could stay on the line for a minute, we can grab your details to send you a letter with details of how to get your payment."
"Sounds good."
I give him my address and hang up ecstatically.
"So, Alice, do you want to split my profit?"
She smiles.
"Two hundred and fifty one dollars... what could I do with that? Thinking about it, there was a really gorgeous necklace that I saw for -"
"Actually, it's one dollar. I'm going to give the five hundred to Mike."
"Oh." Her face falls. "That's nice."
But I get the feeling that she's not amused.
She should be happy. Newton's getting the money. The whole purpose of the exercise was defeated. He's not getting a lesson. But maybe I am.
I dispel the sentimental claptrap from my head for a moment, and buzz in a cloud of happiness.
Now, the question is: How does one spend a hard-earned dollar?