DECEMBER 11 TUESDAY

"I won again!" said James when he and Sirius were enjoying a quiet game of afternoon Pong. James enjoyed it, anyway. Sirius was getting tired of constantly losing at Pong. He sat down on his bed and began to search among all his crap there.

"We have to start talking about clothes, Prongs!" he said.

"I've told you! I like my trousers to be comfortable! I just need all that space!"

"I mean our band clothes! The clothes we will wear on our concert!"
"Oh that. Can't we just add a whole bunch of sequins to our tops?"

Sirius found what he had searched for; a catchemal-ball with a TV inside. He hatched the TV and turned it on. Top of the Pops was on. Sweet were performing Blockbuster.

"Do you see what I'm talking about?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah I agree. Little Willy is better."
"I meant the other thing."

"I suppose they don't have that much talent when compared to the likes of David Bowie and Mark Bolan."

"The other other thing!"

"Gary Glitter sucks?"

"The Sweet won't go down in history for genius music. They will be remembered for their clothes."

"I think you're right. Their outfits are pure class."

"I know, right!"

Sirius switched off the telly.

"Where do we get clothes like that?" James asked.

"We could sew them ourselves."

"But we can't sew."

"We can ask some girls if we can borrow their clothes!"

"But that's crossdressing!"

"We're British! We LOVE crossdressing!"

"That is true, old bean." James put on his monocle. "Ok let's play Pong! Come on! I'll let you win!"

"Actually I'm kind of bored with Pong now."

"Bored with Pong? Stop taffling and play me, man! I'll go easy on you! I hope you're not a sore loser!"
"I'm a bored loser. I'm going back to table football."

Sirius headed for the door. James felt so lost and alone by the Pong machine.

"But who will I play now?"

"Play the machine!" Door slam.

James felt so lost and alone. Despite always losing to James, Sirius was still a worthy opponent. And more importantly, he was a fun opponent. Now James wished he had let him win a couple of times.

He sometimes felt he needed to try harder to not be such an awesome winner at everything, but that was simply the cross he had to bare.

He opened the curtains around Peter's bed.

"Oh. Sorry." He closed them again quickly.

Peter tumbled through his bed curtains, wearing his pyjamas.

"I wasn't sucking in my stomach!"

"Of course you weren't. Do you want to play Pong?"

Yes, James was that desperate. If he was anymore desperate he'd honk a foghorn in Remus's face.

In fact, he could see a foghorn just over there...

No. No. Remus was perhaps better at Pong than Peter but so was an earwig.

In fact, James could see an earwig just over there...

"Come here, little earwig!"

"What do you need an earwig for?" Peter asked.

The earwig scurried through a crack in the wall. James sighed, feeling so lost and alone.

"Never mind. Let's play Pong."

Peter jumped and clapped his hands. They began to play Pong. Peter lost immediately and they tried again. Peter lost. He lost again. And again. And again.

"Yesss!" said Peter.

"No, the objective is to hit the ball."

"Oh."

Peter lost again. And again. Again.

"Ok I want to play the machine now," said James. "Step away from the machine."

Peter took a step back, uncertain.

"Step away! Shoo!"

Peter ran back through his bed curtains.