Bad cheese

• Tom Grant, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2006

“Look at him Phillip,” said Bruce in a disgusted tone.
“I know, always saying how superior his posh food is to ours,” replied Phillip.
“Julius just doesn’t know when to stop,” Bruce added.

Julius, apart from the big fat bullies was one of the most annoying kids ever. He would always say how sophisticated his fancy imported food was compared to the food of other kids. Like how his salted peanuts were picked by Indian servants at the base of the Himalayan mountains.


“So do you have anything to trade for Julius?” Bruce asked during the lunch break when everybody usually swapped their food for things that they didn’t get very often from home.
“Yes I do, but I wouldn’t trade it with the stuff that you call food. It looks like it had just come out of the bin!” sniggered Julius with his nose turned to the air.
“How about my Devon sandwich for your ham one?” Bruce added trying to persuade Julius.
“No way, why would I want some of the stuff that comes off the ground at the butchers shop and has been sitting there for weeks. My ham has been smoked and was imported from Germany yesterday afternoon, and my bread was made by the finest French bread makers, so why would I want some bread that has probably had cockroaches crawl all over it,” Julius said as if he was talking to something subhuman.
“Yeah, well your cheese is all mouldy and blue,” replied Bruce confidently.
“It is not mouldy, it has been made to perfection by Italian cheese makers who have let it mature and age wrapped in cloth and placed in hand carved wooden barrels,” roared Julius.




“Come on Bruce,” said his mother “We have to help your Grandad clean out his house because of his bad knee.
“Is that today?” Bruce replied.
“Yes, hurry up and get in the car,” his mother continued.


“You look in the fridge, and I’ll look in the laundry for anything that needs cleaning out,” said Bruce’s mother.
“Okay” he replied.

As Bruce opened the fridge door he noticed that his Granddad’s cats were playing with a chunk of something wrapped in glad wrap. That looks like the stuff that Julius gets in his fancy lunches he thought to himself. Inside the fridge there was more of the old cheese that looked like it had been off for two years, so he took three chunks from the squabbling cats, and wrapped it up in al-foil.


“Hey Julius I have something to trade with you,” said Bruce.
“What do you have that could make me want to trade with your bin food,” Julius replied in his king like manner.
“Do you want some of this cheese?” asked Bruce.
“Okay, it looks like French blue cheese” Julius said poshly almost salivating at the sight.
“Here, try some,” Bruce added.
“Yum, where did you get this delicious cheese?” Julius said as he stuffed his face with it.
“Well, my Granddads cats were playing with this mouldy old cheese. I found it at the back of his fridge which hadn’t been cleaned for two years and it looked like the stuff that you get, so I thought I shouldn’t waste it,” smiled Bruce.

Julius’s face went red, his eyes bulged and his stomach churned as he ran to the toilets.




By Tom Grant 2006