Carrotty Kid Takes Centre Stage at the Local Talent Show

Carrotty Kid has spent most lunchtimes scribbling in his maths book, so when the notice went up about the Mossbridge Primary talent quest, he nearly walked past. The carrot-topped troublemaker from The Dandy is hardly the obvious pick for a school stage, but something about the smudged flyer pinned to the tuck shop door caught his eye.

Mossbridge is the sort of fictional Aussie suburb that feels suspiciously like a cul-de-sac on the outer edges of Melbourne, complete with mango trees in the front yard and a footy oval doubling as a cricket pitch on Saturdays. The whole town had been buzzing about the event for weeks, ever since the local Rotary Club agreed to sponsor a two-hundred-buck prize and a trophy shaped like a sparkly thong.

Carrotty Kid didn't sign up for the cash. He wanted to show Bruce Petersen and his smug tap-dancing routine that a kid with a funny hairdo and a chipped front tooth could own a stage just as well as anyone. He'd been humming a tune in the shower for days and reckoned it was time the rest of the world heard it.

The night before the auditions, he couldn't sleep. He lay on his swag staring at the ceiling, running through every possible disaster. What if he forgot the words? What if his trousers fell down? What if the microphone fizzed and nobody heard a thing?

Signing Up at the Tuck Shop

The audition list was pinned to the same corkboard as the lost lunchboxes and the swimming carnival flyer. Carrotty Kid hovered behind a Year 6 girl who listed juggling as her talent, while two brothers ahead argued about who got to perform the magic trick they'd nicked off YouTube.

When his turn came to write his name, he paused. The pen had a chewed end and smelt faintly of lamington. He scribbled "Carrotty Kid — Singing" in his messiest handwriting, hoping nobody would notice he hadn't settled on a song.

Miss Pinnock, the school librarian running the sign-ups, raised one eyebrow but said nothing. She had seen plenty of nervous kids come through that hall and knew better than to dampen anyone's enthusiasm before they'd had a chance to belt out a note.

Picking the Perfect Song

At the kitchen table, Carrotty Kid weighed up his options. His sister reckoned he should do a classic pub anthem, something the judges at the RSL would appreciate. His dad, halfway through reading about the poker machines in AUD on his phone at the servo, suggested something cheerful from the radio. His mum just wanted him to wear a clean shirt.

He settled on a song he'd been hearing on the way to school, the one that always came on Triple M when the 7-Eleven coffee was still too hot to drink. It was simple, a bit bouncy, and had a chorus he could remember after three goes.

He practised in front of the bathroom mirror until the dog started howling from the laundry. His gran called out from the loungeroom that she couldn't hear herself think, which he took as a sign he was at least making some noise.

The Night of the Show

The school hall had been transformed with crepe paper streamers in green and gold, the obligatory colours for any community event. Folding chairs smelled faintly of disinfectant, and the stage was lit by a single spotlight that flickered every time someone walked past the switchboard.

Carrotty Kid was third from last, tucked behind a lad doing an impressive yo-yo routine and a pair of twins performing a synchronised poem about chundering after too much Zooper Dooper. He sat in the wings with his knees knocking together, trying to remember why he'd ever thought this was a good idea.

When the compère finally called his name, he walked out feeling like the last snag left on the barbie. He gripped the microphone, gave a small wave to his nan in the third row, and waited for the intro track.

The Judges' Verdict

The judging panel was a mixed bunch of locals who knew each other from the Saturday market. There was a retired music teacher from Geelong, a bloke running a mobile coffee van down the coast, and the owner of the fish and chip shop who never missed a chance to hand out a free potato cake.

They scribbled notes while Carrotty Kid gave it everything, throwing in a little dance move invented in the shower and hitting a high note that made the Year 2s cover their ears. The hall clapped, then clapped again, and someone near the door whistled through their teeth.

When the scores were tallied, Carrotty Kid didn't win. Bruce Petersen took the trophy, though not by much. What Carrotty Kid did get was a respectable third place ribbon, a packet of Tim Tams from the Rotary president, and the kind of memory that would fuel his jokes for years.

Back to the Sketchbook

The next morning, the whole school seemed to know his name. One teacher mentioned an eisteddfod in Ballarat. Carrotty Kid wasn't ready for that just yet.

He headed to his classroom corner and pulled out his sketchbook, drawing a new strip with the spotlight bigger and Bruce's tap shoes taller.

Here's how the line-up compared:

Act	Talent	Style	Result
Bruce Petersen	Tap dancing	Smug and polished	First place, trophy
Priya Sharma	Classical violin	Serious and poised	Second place, ribbon
Carrotty Kid	Singing	Bouncy and chaotic	Third place, Tim Tams
The Barker Twins	Spoken word	Synchronised chaos	Participation
Jayden Wu	Yo-yo tricks	Flashy and fast	Encouragement award

He was already sketching panel three by the time the bell rang for recess.

Read more of Carrotty Kid's antics, alongside classics like George vs Dragon, Boo!, and Bad Grandad, over at the main site. Drop Andy a line with a strip suggestion or share your own talent show disaster story from a footy club eisteddfod somewhere out back of Bourke.