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Giggle... Giggle...Giggle... Whisper... Whisper... Whisper... Cackle... Cackle... Cackle...

 “Ready?” asked Chief Chad of the secret Society.

     “Yesss, sir!” we chorused, lining up together in an orderly fashion and saluting.

     “The prank is all set and prepared - ready for action?” Chief Chad shouted, marching up and down our wonky, yet smart line of ‘soldiers’ as if he was the chief of an army, carrying a stick; as if he were the leader of the group, clutching a gun tightly in his hand before war.

     “Yesss, sir!” we warbled again, this time standing up straight in our wobbly line; our 2-pack chests sticking out like a pack of pudding cups glued to our tummies.

     “And finally, have we decided which house?” enquired Chief Chad loudly. We all nodded solemnly. “Then let the games begin! Get organised in your positions, holding your equipment!”

     Chief Chad waved his stick around wildly as he was saying this and one of our ‘soldiers’ led our troop down towards the house, followed by the Chief and his gang.

     On we went, through the quiet streets of London, the darkness licking us with its long, black tongue; slightly faded away by the shrill brightness of the lamppost lights.

     At last, we came upon a huge house. Luckily, just as we wanted, all the lights were still on, despite it being late in the night.

     “Right,” Chief Chad suddenly murmured in a hushed manner, as he knelt down behind a big azalea bush and out of sight, “everybody got their bags, ready to stink bomb this house?”

     We sniggered and chortled excitedly, zipping our foldable bags open and holding up the little bottles full of disgusting, yellow liquid.

     “The more the merrier, that’s what they say, right?” guffawed Chief Chad, rubbing his hands together like evil people do when they are planning a monstrous scheme.

     Us naughty boys, ran into our places, after giving our stink bomb bottles to Chief Chad; shivering with enthusiasm. We hid behind shrubs and cars or climbed expertly up trees. Meanwhile, I crouched silently behind a brick wall, whereas, Chief Chad clambered into a bush, which was hunching there on the white patio. Fortunately, it was standing there right beside the front door. He gave a little whistle and an owl’s hoot. This was a signal which meant that he was going to knock now. He knocked on the door after waving his hand out of the rustling leaves.

     Biting our lips, waiting impatiently, we finally heard the door open. A lovely lady came out, wearing her snow-white dressing gown and her hair let loose, all curly; unlike mine, which was messy and my clothes were ripped and torn, mud scrubbed all over them, like my face.

     “Hello?” she said, looking around, staring at her perfectly manicured nails lovingly. “Hello?” she said again, this time more anxious. She gazed around the place. It was empty. Or so she probably thought. It was actually full of nasty, naughty scamps, waiting to prank her. Worried, she looked around the door, pondering if there was somebody hiding behind there.

     Now it was Chief Chad’s chance. He threw the bottles into the house, rolling them on the floor, the liquid seeping and oozing out of them, only exposing his scratched hand. Waiting, we held our noses, as she closed the door. In a few seconds we heard the lady scream; we pinched our mouths securely to prevent the sniggers from bursting out.

     Plus, we could hear her words, which was bad, because that made us want to laugh even more.

     “Bob!” we guessed that she was talking to her husband. “Did you just... pass gas?!”

     We heard them arguing fiercely. That’s boys for you, rascals, they are. And I’m saying that because I’m not a boy myself, I’m a girl. But it’s fun to hang out with these boys, and they’re my friends.