Fred had dressed carefully for his first appearance at this year’s Annual Whistling Meet; he’d buffed his loafers, put on his sharpest shirt and waistcoat that he’d had specially embroidered with his trademark dice on fire, designating him as the wild card of the competition. He combed his moustache one final time and applied another layer of lip balm before taking the stage. Fred whistled his way majestically through John Lennon’s ‘Jealous guy’. On the final pitch-perfect note the silent hall erupted into applause, women fanned themselves, small children were staring wide-eyed, Fred ignored them all and sought out the inevitable scowl of his nemesis and 3-time AWM champion Nico Bondenberg. Fred smirked smugly as the judges awarded him a 9.6, the highest score in the competition so far.

On the second day of the AWM Fred sat in the conference centre canteen enjoying a plate of chips. Nico entered flanked by his usual hangers on. Fred sniggered to himself, Nico whirled around and glared at him. ‘Oh Fred’ he said, as if just noticing him, ‘It’s you. Managing not to throw yourself at anyone this year?’ Fred could feel his colour rising as he recalled how he had humiliated himself the previous year by dedicating a heartfelt rendition of ‘Three times a lady’ to head judge, Laura Spinkerlton, in the final. She had scored him a 7.9 in what he felt was a rebuff of his declaration and it had cost him the competition. Luckily Laura had retired as head judge for this year’s AWM, or so Fred thought. ‘Yes, I doubt you’d be privy, but it looks like the delicious Laura will be returning as guest judge for this year’s final.’ Nico stated casually winking at his cronies. Before Fred knew it the chip in his hand was flying across the canteen. It hit Nico’s cheek and slowly slid off, leaving a trail of ketchup. People watching the exchange gasped and stared. Nico wiped his face, whirled on his heel and stormed out.

Fred knew that Nico would be plotting his revenge and as the grand final approached he worried alternately between his showstopper piece, facing Laura Spinkerlton and what Nico had in store for him. The final had come down to Nico and Fred. Nico had wowed the crowds with a medley of soul classics, including, quite unoriginally Fred thought, ‘Sitting on the dock of a bay’, which the crowd had joined in with. Nico had scored an unnerving 9.8. They met stage right as Nico was walking off to a standing ovation. ‘Beat that!’ Nico laughed. ‘Oh I intend to’ smiled Fred. ‘I’ve got something to show you before you go on’ Nico said. Fred’s eyes narrowed, ‘what is it?’ Nico pulled out his phone, ‘A gift from me to you.’ before Fred could blink he was faced with an eye-watering image of Nico and Laura Spinkerlton, her ecstatic face pressed into his shagpile rug. Fred choked out a roar and launched himself at Nico. They rolled onto the stage like tumbleweed, wrestling, a ball of elbows and grunts. The crowd started cheering them on. This would be an AGWM they would not soon forget. They were both later disqualified.