Writing for Fun
Bunter The Venriloquist - Peter Rogers
August 2014
Billy Bunter watched Horace Coker of the 5th form at Greyfriars carry the huge parcel, a hamper from his Aunt Judy, to his study. Somehow he had to get his grubby paws on the hamper, but how? He could of course get into Coker's study when the coast was clear but how would he know when the burly senior was likely to return? Undoubtedly the hefty Horace would cut up rusty when he caught the fat Removite devouring his tuck!
Somehow Bunter had to ensure that Coker remained off the scene whilst Bunter helped himself to the contents of Aunt Judy's hamper. Bunter knew from past experience that the parcel would be too large to run the gauntlet of the other 5th form studies with it in his arms. Too much danger of being caught with it by another 5th former.
What Coker was probably unaware of, unlike Bunter's fellow Removite's, was that the fat owl was a great ventriloquist and could mimic voices with startling accuracy. Shortly after, Coker was called to the prefects' room to take a call from his form master, the portly and pompous Paul Pontiflex Prout.
'You wanted to speak to me, sir?' he asked, somewhat puzzled as to why his form master should phone him, when he had seen him not half an hour previously in class.
'Ah, yes, Croker,' came Proust's fruity voice, 'I have come to Courtfield Station to pick up some left luggage and find it too heavy for me alone to handle. I trust you are not otherwise engaged this half-holiday afternoon?'
'Well actually, sir, I was going to go to Santham on my motor-bike and . . .'
'Good, good. As you are going by motor-bike, perhaps you would be kind enough to come to Courtfield and give me a hand?'
What could Coker say? There was a chuckle once the receiver was replaced in Mr Quelch's study by the fat ventriloquist. Coker was now safely off the scene.
A few minutes later Bunter was ensconced in Coker's study and consuming the edibles in his hamper, having locked himself in, naturally.
However, the way of the transgressor is hard and it was not long before the handle of the study was turned, unavailingly of course, and voices were heard.
'Looks like Coker's gone out already. Pity, I was looking forward to his aunt's hamper.'
It was Coker's study mate, Potter.
'He would be gone the one time we want him, well, his hamper to be precise,' said his other study mate, Greene. 'Now why do you suppose he's locked the study door?'
'Can't you guess?' said Potter, ''It's so that tuck-raiding Remove fag boy Bunter can't pinch Aunt Judy's grub.'
Bunter grinned. The next moment his grin disappeared as he accidently elbowed a cake slice onto the wooden floor.
'There's someone in there,' cried Potter.
'It must be Coker,' said Greene. 'Open this door, Coker. It's our study too.'
'Go away you fellows,' came the well known tones of Horace Coker from inside, but not from his body, but that of a fat junior. 'I've got to finish this five hundred line Georgic for Prout and he wants it by 6 o'clock.' That should give Bunter enough time to scoff the rest of the grub, Bunter sagely opined.
'Oh, alright, we'll see you later then,' Greene reluctantly acquiesced.
Good, the beasts were going then.
However, the 'beasts' had barely got to the bottom of the stairs and out of the building when who should they see coming in the school gates but the irrepressible Horace himself!
'I thought you were going to stay in the study till you finished that Georgic for Prout,' demanded Potter.
'What are you babbling about, George Potter? What Georgic? I've just come in after parking my motor-bike in the bike shed,' said Coker.
'But we've only just come from the study and you told us you'd locked yourself in to finish this Georgic for Prout and told us to buzz off,' expostulated Greene.
'Are you wandering in your mind, Billy Greene? I've been out since end of first school and I've just met Prout and he never mentioned any Georgic,' countered Coker. 'He phoned me previously – goodness knows why he phoned – to get me to go on some fool's errand to Courtfield Station, then denies every word of it, when I happened to see him as I rode past. Is everyone in this place barking mad?'
'Well, someone is locked in the study and he's got your voice off to a T,' said Potter.
'Well, what are we standing here for? Come on you men,' yelled Coker.
Meanwhile Bunter was still tucking into Coker's parcel, having decided that the coast was now clear once again. Unfortunately for Bunter he was quite wrong in his assumption.
Once again the door handle rattled and this time the stentorian tones of Horace Coker were heard from the other side of the door.
'I don't know who you are, but you can jolly well unlock this door and take the licking that's coming to you.'
Hardly a tempting invitation for the fat junior inside the study!
Luckily Bunter still had the resource that had stood him in good stead before. He coughed, a precursor to his amazing gift of mimicry.
'How dare you speak to your form master in that impertinent manner!' came the fruity tones of Paul Pontifex Prout, thought not from his larynx.
'Oh . . . I . . . I say. I didn't know it was you in there, sir,' gasped a dumbfounded Coker.
'Never mind that now,' said Prout, alias W. G. Bunter, seeming to calm down, 'It has been reported to me that there is a supply of cigarettes in this study and I am conducting a thorough search to ascertain if this is true. I do not wish to be disturbed. Kindly go away till I am finished.'
'But I say, I've never touched smokes in my life, sir. I can only say . . .'
'Do I have to repeat myself?' said Bunter, 'Go. Immediately!'
'Very well, sir, but you're making a big mistake,' said a deflated Coker. 'Come on you fellows, we'll come back later.'
The three fifth formers started to leave, when they heard an elephantine tread and to their amazement and disbelief beheld the portly form of their master, Mr Prout coming toward them.
'What is this disturbance? I can hear you yelling and thumping at your door from my study at the other end of the landing,' demanded Prout.
'S – someone's locked himself in our study, sir. W – we thought it was you, gasped Coker.
'Nonsense! I will ascertain the reason for the disturbance,' bellowed Prout.
A minute later Prout tried the door and hammered on it too. He was about to, in his turn, demand who was in the study, when a voice from within forestalled him.
'Will you go away?' it said, 'How many times must I repeat myself? I do not wish to be disturbed.'
The three seniors looked at each other in dumb amazement. It was undoubtedly Prout's pompous voice from inside, but the 5th form master was standing there next to them outside the door.
'Unlock this door at once,' snapped Prout, evidently not recognising his own ponderous tones. His demend was met with silence.
'Do you have any idea who is inside, boys?' asked Prout.
'No, sir,' replied Potter, but whoever it is has such a knack of imitating voices that we first thought it was Coker then – well, you, sir.'
'Me? Nonsense.' Then suddenly light began to dawn on Mr Prout. 'Wait a moment; Mr Quelch happened to mention to me the other day that he had cause to punish Bunter of his form for practicing ventriloquist tricks in class. He imitated the Indian boy, Harree Singh.'
'Bunter!' thundered Prout, 'We know it is you in there. Open this door immediately or I will send for your headmaster, who will no doubt expel you.'
The game was up, but Bunter had one more shot in the locker.
'I – I can't, sir,' said Bunter noiselessly slipping the key from the lock into his pocket. 'Some fellows locked me in here for a – a lark.'
'Tut tut,' said Mr Prout, 'Have any of you boys another key?'
Greene produced a key and at last the study door was opened.
'Who locked you in, Bunter?' demanded Mr Prout.
'It was Wharton and Cherry and that gang, sir,' gasped a frightened fat owl.
'Very well, I shall acquaint Mr Quelch with the facts and no doubt the boys in question will be punished.'
Bunter foresaw problems withy this. Mr Quelch might very well take the Wharton gang's.
'Oh. Come to think of it, it was Skinner and Snoop.' He might just accept Bunter's word against the bad hats of the Remove, a forlorn hope, but it was a case of any port in the storm for the fat owl.
'Just a minute,' yelled Coker. 'That fat villain's helped himself to Aunt Judy's hamper.' Forgetting his form master's presence, Coker proceeded to shake Bunter. He did in fact shake himself so hard that the study key fell out of his pocket with a metallic clang.
'It would appear, Bunter, that you locked yourself in to devour Coker's comestibles,' said Prout drily.
Prout naturally reported the fat brigand's amazing conduct to his form master and there followed a very painful interview with Mr Quelch and Coker kicked him every time he saw him for some considerable time after. Thus ended, for a time at least, the career of Bunter the ventriloquist.
