"I’ll never tell!" he cried. "No matter what you do, I’ll never tell!" Mr Quantas angrily switched off his mobile phone, slipped it into his pocket and returned to teaching the class.

"Who was it?" asked a student.

"Just market research," Mr Quantas sighed. "Anyway, class, welcome back. I hope you’ve had a great set of holidays. Has anyone done anything interesting?"

"Percy did!" laughed someone. "Ask him, Mr Quantas!"

"This better be good, Percy. What did you do that was so interesting, then?"
Percy nervously looked around the classroom. "I went on a trip to New Zealand," he said with a slight smile.

"And?" asked Mr Quantas in anticipation.

"Well, I didn’t do much…"

"Percy, that was not an interesting story at all. Stop boring the class and shut your mouth."

"Sorry sir," Percy apologised.

Things were shaky at school for Percy. Although he wasn’t a loud or aggressive student, he was a failure. Not a complete failure, but enough to make people dislike him. His projects would be well written, but unfortunately they would be on the wrong topic. He would try to go to school early, but he would miss the bus and accidentally take a taxi inter-state. The year before, Percy had been warned about his inadequacy and expulsion had been threatened upon him.

"Present your talk to the class, Percy!" Mr Quantas demanded.

"What?" Percy asked in disbelief, as no assignment had been given.

"Don’t what me, Percy! Get in front of the class and present your talk!"

"But we didn’t have to do a talk, did we?" Percy asked.

"Yes you did, I told you yesterday. At footy training, I distinctively remember telling everyone that there is a talk is due tomorrow, so don’t try and fool me, you little worm!" Mr Quantas threatened.

"I don’t do footy training, sir!" Percy said. "How was I to know?"
"How dare you talk to me like that! Shut up and start verbalising! Everyone else here has taken the effort to prepare for it. Get up there!"

Percy walked up in front of the class. He had no idea what to do his talk on.

"Um…class, I am going to talk to you today…about, um…" Percy mumbled.

"Come on!" shouted Mr Quantas. "Let’s hear your talk!"

"Yes, I’m going to talk about…"

"Hurry up!" Mr Quantas snapped.

Percy said the first thing that came into his head. "Beans!"

Mr Quantas shook his head. "Beans?"

"Uh, yes, beans are vegetables…"

"What sort of vegetables?"

"Green ones…"

"Not always!" groaned Mr Quantas. "Come on, what sort of vegetables are they?"

"Well, I really don’t know, sir!"

"Oh, for heaven’s sake, everyone knows that beans are leguminous plants that produce edible seeds!"

"Yes, sir…"

"Now come on, make this talk a little interesting!" Mr Quantas ordered, clapping his hands.

Percy took a deep breath. "There are many types of beans. There are, um…"

"Come on, Percy! Tell us one of the many bean varieties, come on!"

"Well, there are baked beans!" Percy shrugged, and smiled at the class. But no one even giggled.

"You idiot, Percy," Mr Quantas sighed. The class sighed too.

"But, I wasn’t even given the chance to prepare!" Percy insisted.

"Don’t raise your voice at me, Percy. Listen, there are Indian beans, soya beans, lima beans, and broad beans. Then there are the scarlet runners and the tempary beans. Percy, you have failed this talk. If you don’t know basic bean facts, how are you supposed to know the more important details on complex vegetables, such as the squash, the leek or the asparagus?"

Percy sat down. In terms of failure, things weren’t getting any better for him.

"See me after school in my office, Percy," Mr Quantas told him sternly.

Percy sat down quietly and watched the rest of the class present A-grade talks on complicated vegetables.

After school had ended, Percy made his way to Mr Quantas’ office. He hoped that he would be given a quick punishment, and not a long lecture about how important it is to do homework.

He knocked on the door and entered.

"Did I say that you could come in?" asked Mr Quantas as Percy approached his desk.

"Oh, sorry," Percy apologised and walked back out.

"Oh no, you’re not getting away from me that easily!" scorned his teacher, and he stood up. "Sit down, we need to have a little chat."

Percy sat down on the chair and lowered his head in shame, ready for a long lecture.

"Do you know why I called you in here, Percy?" Mr Quantas asked.

"Because I didn’t do my homework?" Percy asked.

"No, it’s not because of that, stupid," the teacher spat. "It’s because you are ignorant and know nothing about vegetables. It’s because, out of all the students that I’ve taught, you are a failure."

Percy remained silent and looked at the floor. He had never considered himself to be a failure.

"Sit up straight and look at me when I talk to you, you little runt!"

Percy lifted his head and looked at the teacher woefully. "Are you going to punish me?" he mumbled.

"Oh, I don’t punish. I rehabilitate. Percy, I am going to make it my mission to change you from the failure of a child you are now, to someone who-who can be a decent citizen," he said, shaking his finger at him and nodding. "So I am going to start you on a new program of mine. I haven’t eaten you see, so you know what?"

Percy shook his head slowly.
"I want an eggplant bun, immediately!"

"Pardon?" asked Percy, his eyes opening wider.

"Come on Percy! Eggplant bun, come on!"

"Can’t I just go home sir, I need look after my grandmother and…"

"Ah, Percy!" interrupted Mr Quantas, smiling. "Eggplant bun!"

Percy left the office slowly and set out on a journey to bring his teacher an eggplant bun.

Percy may have been vegetable-illiterate but he was no fool. The perfect place to acquire an eggplant bun was at the local bakery, and there was one near his school.

"One eggplant bun please," Percy asked as he walked inside the bakery.

"Certainly young man," an old man said, and left to the back room. Percy waited, whistling to himself. From behind the counter came a lady with the eggplant bun.

"Thankyou," Percy smiled as he handed her the money.

"I hope you enjoy it," she smiled. "But before I give it to you, would you be interested in taking part in a survey?"

"Well, I don’t know," Percy said, crossing his arms. "Will it take long?"

"Oh no, only a few minutes of your time."

"Okay then," Percy said to her.

She took out a clipboard. "How old are you?" she asked.

"I’m fourteen," Percy replied.

"Have you ever eaten the following: ham, peanut butter and or sand, yes or no."

"Yes, I have," Percy replied.

"Sand?" she asked in shock. "Don’t tell me you eat sand!"
"No, no, no. Just peanut butter and ham."

"Then why did you say yes?" she asked. "Please answer the survey correctly."

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be, your doing fine," she grinned. "Just two more questions to go. Have you or anyone you’ve known ever been in contact with elephants?"

"No, I don’t think so," Percy replied in confusion.

"So I’ll circle yes then?" she asked.

"No, circle no."

"Okay, then. And finally, why do you like eggplant buns so much? Is it because you are without eggplant? Is your vegetable patch running sour?" she asked him curiously.

"My teacher just told me to get him an eggplant bun," Percy told her, shaking his head.

She put down the clipboard. "Look, thank you for participating in our market research. Now, we were wondering if we can have your name and address?"

"Why?" Percy asked.

"Oh nothing, it’s just part of the survey. It won’t matter, trust me."

"Oh, okay," Percy said, and took the clipboard off her. He wrote his name and address on the piece of paper.

"Thankyou very much young…Percy is it? Here is the bun, and have a lovely afternoon," she smiled, and handed him the eggplant bun. Percy took it, nodded and left the bakery.

"Extraordinary!" she muttered to herself as Percy walked away down the street.

"Where’s my eggplant bun?" Mr Quantas complained, knocking himself on the head.

Percy walked through the door with the eggplant bun, complete with the complimentary paper bag that contained it.

Mr Quantas licked his lips. "Give me my bun, Percy!"

Percy handed him the paper bag. "It was one dollar thirty," he said, with his hand out.

"That’s nice," Mr Quantas smiled, licking his lips and taking a bite out of his eggplant bun. "So tell me what else you did, Percy. What did you do when you were at the bakery?"
"Nothing interesting, sir."

"You’re lying, Percy."

"Well, I did take part in a survey, sir."

"I knew it!" he yelled, spitting a piece of eggplant in his face. "Even when it comes to giving me a bun, you fail!"

"But I didn’t think it mattered…" Percy insisted.

"Did I ask you to take part in a survey?" the teacher yelled.

"Well…"

"No! I didn’t! I told you to get me a bun! An eggplant bun!"

"I’m sorry," apologised Percy.

"Go home, Percy. You’d better stop being a failure, or else…you’re out of here!" Mr Quantas threatened.

Percy left the office, feeling rather down.

When Percy arrived at home, he was greeted by the familiar meowing of his grandma’s cats. There were about thirteen of them, but that was only because the rest were at the dry cleaners.

"Don’t open the door, Percy!" his grandma yelled from inside the house. "The cats have to stay inside today, and they’re dirty enough as it is!"

"How do I get in, then?" Percy asked.

"Just go in through the chimney like the others did!" she replied. Cat paws could be seen, reaching out from under the front door.

Percy sighed. Usually his grandma would lock the cats in the bathroom, not let them loose in the house. He climbed up a well-placed ladder onto the roof, and carefully made his way down the chimney. It wasn’t as hard as it sounded.

"Oh Percy, you’ve got soot all over you!" she scolded. In her hands were three clawing cats, that were wrapped in gladwrap. His grandmother loved cats, almost as much as she loved cleanliness. Unfortunately for the cats, she liked mixing her two loves together.

"Before, grandma, why did you say that some other people climbed down the chimney? It’s not the RSPCA, is it?"

"Don’t be silly, Percy," she said. "There are three people that came to see you. I told them to wait in the kitchen."

Percy was puzzled. Why would anyone want to see him, of all people?

"Okay, grandma, I’ll go and see them," he told her, making his way into the kitchen.

When he went in, there were two men and a lady in there, carefully examining a bowl of fruit.

"Yes, most interesting," the woman remarked.

"Most remarkable," the man said as he examined an apple.

"Of course it’s remarkable," she scoffed. "That’s why I remarked my last comment, instead of just saying it."

Percy looked at them strangely. "Right, who are you?"

"Ah, Percy," a man in a suit and tie grinned. "We’ve been expecting you!"

"But who are you?" Percy asked.

"We’re from market research, we understand that you participated in a survey this afternoon."

"Yes, that’s true."

"And you like vegetables, do you?"

"No, but…"

"That’s okay," the woman said, crossing her arms. "We understand. Now listen, we have a proposition for you young Percy."

"How would you like to be rich?" the well-dressed man asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you conduct a survey of your own, you stand to earn anywhere up to ninety dollars a question."

"Ninety dollars a question?" Percy exclaimed enthusiastically.

The woman smiled. "Just think…if you were rich, you wouldn’t have to put up with your grandma or her cats!"

"But I like my grandma and I like her cats," Percy told her.

"Then you can buy her a cat-proof house or something!" the not-so-well-dressed man told him, smiling. "Or a cattery!"

"Oh, that sounds nice," Percy grinned. "So do I just conduct the survey and give it back to you then?"

"Oh, let’s not worry about the little details," the well-dressed man said evasively. "But listen carefully, we want you to conduct this survey within your class tomorrow at school. And don’t hesitate to ask your teacher, Mr Quantas!"

"How did you know his name?" Percy asked.

"I don’t know your teacher’s name! But whoever she is...Mrs Tyramine or whoever, just ask her this set of questions." He handed Percy an envelope. "Don’t open it until Mr Quantas is ready to participate in the survey."

"How do you know his name?" Percy asked him again.

"Little boy," the woman said slowly, "you can’t expect him to know your teacher’s name. It could be anyone!"
"And don’t worry, there are lots of kids your age who do what you’ll be doing," the not-so-well-dressed man told him. "This survey is being carried out across the country!"

"Wow, I sure am glad to be part of it!" Percy smiled. A cat ran into the kitchen, looking at Percy and meowing.

"Hello kitty," Percy smiled as he picked it up. "Look, you’d better go. I have to feed the cat some porridge. I’ll do the survey and…"

"And meet us at that bakery after your schools over tomorrow. We’ll be waiting, Percy," the well-dressed man said slyly.

Percy waved as the three market researchers left the kitchen and climbed up the chimney.

"Are you okay up there?" Percy asked up the chimney.

The not-so-well-dressed man looked down. "It’s not as easy going up as it is going down, trust me!" he explained to Percy. Soon they were gone.

"This sure seems weird," the baffled Percy said to the cat as he opened up a bag of oatmeal. "Grandma, should I give the cat some more oatmeal?" he called out.

"Okay, goodnight sweaty!" she replied from the other room. Percy took that as a yes and fed the cat.

The next afternoon, Percy returned to the bakery that he had visited a day earlier. Getting his teacher to answer the questions had proven difficult. In fact, Percy had his friend, Fred, ask the questions for him. And some of those questions were pretty strange.

"Greetings, Percy," smiled the same well-dressed man. "I trust you brought the, uh, survey?"

"Yes, I did," Percy replied. "Why were those questions so weird?"

"What do you mean?" the woman wanted to know.

"Well, for instance," Percy said, "the first question asked: Where do you live, Mr Quantas?"

"Yes, well, there may have been one question like that," the woman said, nodding.

"No, wait, why did you ask so much about his vegetable patch?" Percy asked. "You asked all about his vegetables, where his vegetable patch is situated, how to get there by car, how to get there by train, and what time he goes to bed! You can’t honestly tell me that all surveys were the same as this one!"

The not-so-well dressed man smiled. "Oh, you’ll be surprised, Percy! You’ll be surprised!"

"Anyway, you’ll be glad to know that he answered all of the questions. Here’s the survey," Percy said, handing him the envelope.

"Thankyou," the well-dressed man said as he took it off him.

Percy coughed. "My money that you promised, where is it? I calculated that, at ninety dollars a question, you owe me eight-hundred and ten dollars!" he smiled.

"Of course," the woman smiled. She handed him the money. Unfortunately for Percy, its currency was of the Monopoly kind.

"Monopoly money?" Percy moaned. "How am I going to buy my grandma a cattery with this?"

"Cheer up, Percy!" the not-so-well-dressed man smiled. "You’ll be glad you had it when you land on Mayfair!"

The three market researchers left the downhearted young boy and left the bakery.

"Now to launch the attack!" Percy heard one of them say as they walked out. What did that mean?

Percy couldn’t sleep that night. It wasn’t only because there was a cat curled up, purring and asleep on his neck. It was because of those awful market researchers. Why would they make him do that, and not give him money? Any real money, anyway. Sultana!

Those questions he had his friend ask Mr Quantas sure were strange. What were they again?

They asked where he lived, what vegetables he grew, where his vegetable patch was located, and what time he would go to sleep. Ten thirty at night it was, if Percy remembered correctly. Wait a minute…didn’t Percy hear that the market researchers were planning an attack?

"Oh no!" Percy shouted as he threw the cat off his neck. "What have I done to poor Mr Quantas’ vegetable patch? They’re going to launch an attack on it!" He quickly put on a jacket, climbed up the chimney, jumped off the roof and ran to the bus stop. Mr Quantas’ house was only down the road from his school! And it was a blue house. You don’t see too many blue houses these days.

Soon Percy had hopped of the bus and sure enough, there was a blue house in the middle of two yellow houses. Oh no! There was an army tank outside his house! Had the market researchers already started the brutal attack on Mr Quantas’ vegetable patch?

There was a light coming from the open gate to the backyard. This was no time to be scared, Percy thought. It was his one chance to prove that he was not a failure! If he could save Mr Quantas’ vegetables, he would be a hero! A class hero! Even a school hero! As Percy sweated in ecstasy he puffed up his chest and entered Mr Quantas’ backyard through the gate.

Sure enough, there were the three market researchers, armed with knives and all sorts of other weaponry designed to mangle Mr Quantas’ plants.

"Okay, which ones should we slice first?" asked the well-dressed man.

"Shine the torch on all those green ones!" the woman commanded.

"Not so fast!" Percy declared as he marched through.

"Who’s that?" asked the well-dressed man.

"It is I, Percy Pumpernickel!" he sung heroically. "And I am going to put a stop to your evil ways!"

With gallant and courage, Percy advanced towards the well-dressed man and unsuccessfully tried to push him over.

The well-dressed man looked at him in shock, and shined the torch on his face. "Oh, it’s you! What are you doing here?"

"I am going to save Mr Quantas’ garden from your brutal assault!" Percy proclaimed, and stood on his toe.

"Who’s that?" came a familiar voice. "Percy, is that you?"

It was none other than Percy’s teacher, Mr Quantas.

"Mr Quantas, you knew about this?" Percy asked, and stopped treading on the well-dressed man’s foot.

"Of course, these people are weeding my garden you idiot! What do you think you’re doing Percy, you absolute biscuit?" Mr Quantas asked in disgust.

"I…" Percy whimpered, "I was only trying to save your garden, and…"

"And nothing, Percy!" Mr Quantas fumed.

"But why is there an army tank outside?" Percy asked, with a tear dropping from his eye.

"That’s my tank, stupid!"

"But why did they make me do a survey on you?" Percy asked.

"Ah, that’s how they do their business," Mr Quantas sneered. "These aren’t market researchers at all, they’re weeders. They don’t like to bother their customers so they do surveys on them instead. Percy, you idiot!" he laughed. The other three laughed too.

"So you mean I…"Percy began, embarrassed.

"That’s right, Percy. You are a failure."

"I am?" Percy asked.

"Yes, and you’re expelled. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!" Mr Quantas grinned.

As his teacher and the three market researchers sniggered amongst themselves, Percy lowered his shoulders and turned to home, as the failure that he was.