Blacky Blasts Back Read Free Page A

though.
    It works this way. His voice appears in my head and my voice, it seems, appears in his. It’s called telepathy: the ability to talk to someone through their thoughts. According to Blacky, I am one of only four people in Australia to have this gift and there aren’t many animals who can do what Blacky does. Just thought I’d let you know that while you could spend hours talking to a pot-bellied pig, you’re unlikely to get anything out of it other than a headache and a reputation for being one snag short of a barbie.



Blacky doesn’t turn up often, but when he does it’s because he has a mission for me. An animal somewhere needs my help. So far, I’ve successfully completed two missions. Or rather, me and Dyl have. Dylan is the only other person who knows about Blacky. We are an ecological double-act, tidying up messes that human beings have created. But you’ll understand more as the story goes on . . .
    â€˜Blacky!’ I yelled in my head. ‘It’s great to see you.’
    He cocked his head.
    â€˜Of course it is, tosh,’ he replied. ‘You’re only human. Some would say barely human.’
    I wanted to throw my arms around him, but stopped myself just in time. Blacky doesn’t do affection. In fact, he’s the grumpiest, meanest, worst-tempered, rudest creature I’ve ever known. And I’ve spent my entire life with Rose, remember.
    â€˜What’s the mission, Blacky?’ I said.
    â€˜What makes you think there is a mission, tosh?’ he replied. ‘Maybe I’m just passing through and felt like chatting with an old friend.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜No. You’re not an old friend. You’re a brain-dead bozo. Anyway, there’s a mission.’
    â€˜What is it?’
    Blacky scratched an ear and gave his bum a quick lick. That reminded me. I knew something was different. Every other time I’d found Blacky in my room he’d been accompanied by a foul smell. You see, Blacky has a fart problem. Well, he doesn’t consider it a problem, but anything living within a two-kilometre radius does. I’ve seen flowers wilt, birds plummet from the sky and grown men weep and lose the will to live.
    â€˜Changed my diet, tosh,’ said Blacky. I’d forgotten there was no such thing as a private thought with him around. ‘But, if you’re feeling nostalgic, I’m sure I could manage a small one . . .’
    â€˜ NO! ’ I yelled. ‘It’s okay, seriously. Tell me about the mission instead.’
    â€˜Ah, the mission, mush. ’Fraid I can’t tell you. That’s on a need-to-know basis.’
    â€˜What do you mean, “a need-to-know basis”? If you’ve got a mission for me, don’t I need to know what it is?’
    â€˜Only those who need to know, know. Those who don’t need to know, don’t know. You aren’t on a need-to-know basis, so you don’t know and I don’t need to tell you what you don’t need to know. You need to know this.’
    I let the words roll around in my head for a while, but it was obvious I wasn’t going to make any sense of them.
    â€˜So who does need to know, then?’ I asked.
    â€˜You don’t need to know that. That’s also on a need-to-know basis.’
    I threw myself on the bed. I’d forgotten how annoying the smelly hound could be.
    â€˜So let me get this right,’ I said. ‘You’ve got a mission for me, but I don’t need to know what it is? How am I supposed to complete it, then? And if you tell me that’s on a need-to-know basis, I should warn you I’m liable to insert my foot up your backside.’
    Blacky sniffed inside my head.
    â€˜Charming,’ he said. ‘Why is it that humans resort to violence when they don’t get their own way?’
    â€˜I can’t tell you,’ I replied. ‘That’s on a need-to-know basis.’
    â€˜Be in