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Syndro and the Worms

by Max Baker, aged 7

Syndro and The Worms

Read by Chris Pavlo from the BBC Radio Drama Company

I am a worm and I am the only worm who is stuck in a horrible, ugly garden with an evil owner! His name is Syndro and he is the baddy of the town of Hollypop! I do not like it here and want to go back to my own town called Wormtown. I love Wormtown because it is full of friendly worms and nice food like leaves and sausages. I know what you’re thinking (worms don’t eat sausages), but I’m a weird worm.

Every day, Syndro stomps into the garden, shouting rude words at the neighbours friendly dog, named Ginger. Syndro carries a golf club, which he swings around his head to make the dog angry.

One day, Syndro was in the garden doing his daily golf swing practice when he saw me under a flowerpot and I knew he was thinking “lets kill that worm” and I was right, he was! Suddenly, my quick thinking worm friend, Curly leapt up the wicked Syndro’s shorts and into his underpants! I wiggled wildly with laughter as I watched helpless Syndro screaming like a scared little girl.

Curly was the best friend I ever had. Every day we tried to escape Syndro’s boring garden. Every day we failed. If it wasn’t for the weeds, the oversized fence or the interrupting Syndro himself, we might have managed it.

The next day we were feeling lucky. We hatched a plan of escape. It was a dangerous plan, but with the thought of making it to Wormtown to see our friends, it was worth the risk. Ginger was our sidekick.

Curly and I saw the golf club perched up by the back door. We wrapped our long, grey bodies around Syndro’s golf club like a corkscrew and we held on tightly. Giving Ginger the worm nod, he started barking, for we knew that this would make Syndro mad.

The back door flew open and out marched the red-faced Syndro. As we hoped, he grabbed the golf club as he shouted to Ginger “Shut up you stupid dog!” All we needed now, was for Syndro to swing the club as high as he could so that we could make it over the enormous fence. And he did, but not quite high enough. We let go of the club and coming towards us was not the sky, but the fence. We closed our eyes tightly and prayed that we wouldn’t die. Feeling a thud, we opened our eyes and we were through the fence. A tiny hole had saved us! Ginger had been waiting and we were now perched with relief on his fluffy back. Three cheers for Ginger! “Hip Hip”!!!
Next stop…Wormtown.

Ginger was our transport. He took us past the bustling barbers, the busy butchers (yum yum, sausages!) through the pretty park. It was a long, exciting ride. Through a tiny gap in a blackberry bush we found Wormtown and our friends once again. A wonderful worm party was waiting.

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