by Dan Gutman
Dedication
To the kids at Calvin Coolidge Elementary School in Wyckoff, New Jersey
Warning: This book contains scenes of graphic violins. If you don’t like graphic violins, READ SOMETHING ELSE!
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
1.MM
2.The Fab Lab
3.Making Droney
4.Droney Is Cool
5.We’re Gonna Be Famous!
6.We Created a Monster!
7.An Important Message . . .
8.This Means War!
9.D-Day
10. The Big Surprise Ending
About the Author and Illustrator
Back Ad
Copyright
About the Publisher
My name is A.J., and I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about dogs in elevators. Because that’s what I’m thinking about.
Do dogs know that elevators go up and down? Why would they? If I was a dog and I got into an elevator, how would I know it went up and down? I would just think it was a cool magic room. You walk into it, some human pushes a button, and the next thing you know, the door opens up and you walk out into this completely different place. Like magic! Why would I know any better? I’m a dog! What do I know about elevators?
It must be great to be a dog and go into magical rooms all the time at the push of a button.
Anyway, the other day at school, we were about to start a math lesson when we got called down to the all-porpoise room.* Our teacher, Mr. Cooper, said there was going to be a surprise assembly.
Surprises are always fun, except for the ones that aren’t so much fun. Like if an elephant fell on your head. That would be surprising, but not much fun.
“Ooooh, I love surprises!” said Andrea Young, this annoying girl with curly brown hair.
“Me too!” said her crybaby friend, Emily, who loves everything Andrea loves.
When we got to the all-porpoise room, I noticed something weird. Our principal, Mr. Klutz, was wearing a T-shirt with the letters MM on it.
“What do you think MM stands for?” I asked.
“March Madness?” replied Michael, who never ties his shoes.
“Marilyn Monroe?” said Ryan, who will eat anything, even stuff that isn’t food.
“Mickey Mouse?” said Neil, who we call the nude kid even though he wears clothes.
“My Mom?” said Alexia, this girl who rides a skateboard all the time.
Everybody was buzzing, which was weird because we’re not bees.
Mr. Klutz made a peace sign with his fingers, which means “Shut up!”
We all got quiet.
“Good morning, students,” he said. “Do you know why it says MM on my shirt?”
“You’re giving out M&M’s?” I asked.
“I love M&M’s,” Ryan whispered to me.
“Me too,” I whispered back.
M&M’s are great. Not as great as Kit Kats, but they’re still chocolate, so you know they’re good. Anything with chocolate in it is good. That’s the first rule of being a kid.
“You could cover a piece of dirt with chocolate and I would eat it,” said Ryan. Of course, Ryan will eat anything.
“No,” said Mr. Klutz. “We’re not giving out M&M’s.”
“Boo!” Everybody started booing.
Mr. Klutz made the shut-up peace sign again, and we got quiet.
“Let me explain,” he said. “Kids today spend too much time staring at screens. TV screens. Smartphone screens. Screens on tablets. Blah blah blah getting soft blah blah blah lazy blah blah blah nobody does anything anymore. You just stare at screens. That’s not good for you blah blah blah.”
He went on and on.
“So you’re going to give us M&M’s if we stop staring at screens?” I asked.
“No,” said Mr. Klutz. “MM stands for the Maker Movement.”
Maker Movement? I’d never heard of the Maker Movement.
“What’s that?” somebody shouted.
“I’m glad you asked,” said Mr. Klutz. “Miss Aker, will you come out here, please?”
Some lady came out on the stage. We gave her a round of applause even though she hadn’t done anything yet. What’s up with that? All she did was walk out on the stage. Anybody can walk out on a stage.
Mr. Klutz told us Miss Aker is on the PTA, which stands for Parents who Talk A lot. He said Miss Aker used to be in the army, and now she’s an engineer.
“She drives trains?” I asked.
“Not that kind of engineer, dumbhead!” said Andrea.
I was going to say something mean to Andrea, but I didn’t get the chance, because Miss Aker started talking.
“The Maker Movement is all about making things,” said Miss Aker. “Blah blah blah innovation and creativity blah blah blah let your imagination run wild blah blah blah think outside the box and solve real-world problems blah blah blah. We’re going to learn by doing things!”
What?! Doing things? Doing things is hard work! If you ask me, it’s a lot easier to not do things.
“And that’s why it says MM on my shirt today,” said Mr. Klutz.
“I love making things!” said Andrea. “I’m making a birdhouse at home.”
Ugh. Why can’t a truck full of birdhouses fall on Andrea’s head?
“Me too!” said Emily, who does everything Andrea does. What is their problem?
The guys and I were moaning and groaning. I don’t want to make stuff. Making stuff sounds boring.
“Making things is fun!” said Miss Aker. “We’re going to make all kinds of interesting things. We’re going to have a Maker Space in the school. And we’re going to have a Maker Fair to show off the things you make. Doesn’t the Maker Movement sound like fun?”
“Yes!” shouted all the girls.
“No!” shouted all the boys.
The Maker Movement? Bowel movement is more like it.
I’d rather have M&M’s.
After the assembly, we walked a million hundred miles back to Mr. Cooper’s class. He wears a cape and thinks he’s a superhero. Nobody knows why.
“Turn to page twenty-three in your math books,” said Mr. Cooper.
Ugh. I hate math. I got out my math book. But you’ll never believe who walked into the door at that moment.
Nobody! You could break your nose by walking into a door. But you’ll never believe who walked into the doorway.
It was Miss Aker!
“Hey kids!” she shouted.
“It’s Maker Movement time! Follow me!”
Mr. Cooper slammed his math book shut. We all followed Miss Aker and walked a million hundred miles.
“Where are we going?” asked Alexia.
“To a secret room,” said Miss Aker.
Oooh, secret rooms are cool, because they have secrets in them.*
Miss Aker led us to a locked door. I had never been in this room before. I heard a rumor that it was a dungeon where bad kids get tortured. Miss Aker used a key to unlock the door. It opened with a creak.
“I’m scared,” said Emily, who’s scared of everything.
Miss Aker flipped on the light.
“Welcome to our Maker Space!” she said excitedly. “I call it the Fab Lab, because it’s fabulous.”
You won’t believe what was in the Fab Lab. The shelves were filled with boxes of plastic cups, Ping-Pong balls, PVC pipe, Popsicle sticks, string, clothespins, paper clips, straws, balloons, bottle caps, duct tape, paper bags, plastic bottles, Q-tips, rubber bands, toothpicks, masking tape, glue, tacks, and all kinds of other stuff. What a bunch of junk!
“Is it garbage day?” I asked.
“No!” said Miss Aker. “We can use these things t
o make other things.”
That’s when our art teacher, Ms. Hannah, came into the room. She was carrying a box of those tubes that are inside rolls of toilet paper.
“I never throw anything away,” said Ms. Hannah.
People who save toilet paper tubes are weird. Ms. Hannah is bananas.
“Put them over there,” said Miss Aker. “Thank you for making a donation to the Fab Lab.”
“You’re welcome,” said Ms. Hannah. “Everything can be made into something else.”
“That’s right!” said Miss Aker. “Making things is a basic human drive. Back in the Stone Age, primitive people made tools so they could hunt and build shelters. And people have been making things ever since blah blah blah blah blah blah . . .”
Miss Aker sure talks a lot. No wonder she’s on the PTA.
“Are we going to make something today?” asked Ryan.
“Of course!” said Miss Aker. “We can make just about anything—a soda-bottle airplane, friendship bracelets, a solar blimp, a rubber-band helicopter . . .”
“Can we make a skateboard?” Alexia asked.
“Sure!” said Miss Aker.
“I don’t want to make a skateboard,” said Andrea.
“Me neither,” said Emily, who only wants to make stuff Andrea wants to make.
“Can we make a car?” asked Michael.
“Sure!” said Miss Aker.
“Cars are boring,” said Andrea. “Can we make cupcakes?”
“Sure!” said Miss Aker. “I have all the ingredients on the shelf over there. And an oven too.”
“Cupcakes are boring,” said Neil.
“We need to make something everybody will like,” said Miss Aker. “I have an idea! Why don’t we make cupcake cars?”
Cupcake cars?
“A cupcake car is a car made out of a cupcake!” said Miss Aker.
So it has the perfect name.
“YAY!” everybody yelled, which is also “YAY” backward. “Let’s make cupcake cars!”
Miss Aker showed us how to make cupcakes. First we mixed up the batter. Then we put it into metal molds in the shape of a car. Then we put them in the oven and baked them. Then we took them out of the oven and put Oreo wheels on them with toothpicks.
It was fun making cupcake cars. And the best part was, while we were baking them, Miss Aker let me lick the bowl! YAY! It was the best moment of my life. Licking a bowl is great.
Well, not all bowls. I mean, you wouldn’t want to lick a toilet bowl. That would be gross. And you wouldn’t want to lick a bowling alley. That would be weird.
“I’m going to bring my cupcake car home to show to my parents,” said Andrea after we put on the Oreo wheels.
“Me too,” said Emily.
“You can do whatever you want with your cupcake car,” said Miss Aker.
“I’m going to eat mine!” I said.
“Me too!” said Michael.
Ryan, Michael, Neil, Alexia, and I ate our cupcake cars. They were still warm. Yum!
I always wanted to eat a car.
Hey, maybe the Maker Movement won’t be so bad after all.
The next morning, Mr. Cooper came running into class, tripped over somebody’s backpack, and almost crashed into the garbage can. Mr. Cooper is no superhero. In fact, he’s the opposite of a superhero. He got up and brushed himself off.
“Okay, let’s get started,” said Mr. Cooper. “We have a lot of ground to make up. Turn to page twenty-three in your math books.”
Ugh. I got out my math book. But you’ll never believe who poked her head into the door at that moment.
Nobody! Why would you poke your head into a door? Doors are made out of wood. I thought we went over that in Chapter Two. But you’ll never believe who poked her head into the doorway.
It was Miss Aker!
“Hey kids!” she shouted. “It’s Maker Movement time! Follow me!”
Mr. Cooper slammed his math book shut, closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead. Grown-ups are always rubbing their foreheads. If you ask me, they need to use moisturizer.
“What are we going to make today, Miss Aker?” asked Andrea as we walked to the Fab Lab.
“Can we make more cupcake cars?” Ryan asked. “They were yummy.”
“We made cupcake cars yesterday,” said Miss Aker. “Let’s make something different today.”
The door to the Fab Lab was already open. And you’ll never believe who was in there.
It was Mrs. Yonkers, our computer teacher!
“I have a donation for the Fab Lab,” said Mrs. Yonkers as she plugged some weird-looking machine into an outlet.
“Thank you!” said Miss Aker. “The teachers have been so generous.”
“What is it?” we all asked.
“It’s a 3D printer,” explained Mrs. Yonkers. “Back in the olden days, you could only use a computer to print on paper. Now we can print objects.”
“Like what kind of objects?” asked Neil.
“Just about anything,” replied Mrs. Yonkers. “You could make replacement parts for a broken toy. Or a statue. Or a doll. I thought you kids might be able to come up with some fun ideas.”
3D printing sounded cool.
“Could you use a 3D printer to print out another 3D printer?” I asked. “It would be cool to print a printer on your printer.”
“I don’t see why not,” said Mrs. Yonkers.
“Could we print a robot?” I suggested. Robots are cool.
“That’s a marvelous idea!” said Miss Aker.
And you’ll never believe who walked into the door at that moment.
Nobody! People don’t walk into doors.* But you’ll never believe who walked into the doorway.
It was Mr. Docker, our science teacher.
“Did somebody say robot?” asked Mr. Docker.
“I did,” I said.
“I love robots!” said Mr. Docker and Mrs. Yonkers at the same time.
We all agreed that making a robot on the 3D printer would be cool.
“I have an idea,” said Ryan. “Let’s make a flying robot!”
“I have an idea,” said Neil. “Let’s make a flying robot that can talk!”
“I have an idea,” said Andrea. “Let’s make a flying, talking robot that’s really smart!”
“I have an idea,” said Alexia. “Let’s make a flying, talking robot that’s really smart and can shoot marshmallows!”
We had lots of ideas. Mr. Docker and Mrs. Yonkers used the computer to help us design a smart robot that could fly, talk, and shoot marshmallows. We all worked on it as a team. It took a long time. But I didn’t mind, because we were getting out of math.
When we were finished designing our robot, we printed it on the 3D printer.
“We should give our robot a name,” Andrea said as the robot was printing.
We all threw out names: Mr. Flying Robot. Robo-Marsh. Maker-Man. Flo-Bot.
“Y’know,” said Ryan, “a flying robot is sort of like a drone.”
“We should name it Droney,” said Neil.
Droney! Everybody agreed that would be a great name. Neil should get the Nobel Prize. That’s a prize they give out to people who don’t have bells.
We worked so hard making Droney that we lost track of the time. We even skipped lunch. It was almost three o’clock. That’s when Mr. Klutz came into the Fab Lab.
“I just wanted to see how you kids were making out,” he said.
Ewww, gross!
“We’re not making out!” we all shouted.
“No,” said Mr. Klutz. “You’re part of the Maker Movement, so I wanted to see how you were making out. Get it? Maker Movement? Making out?”
We all laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. Always laugh at the principal’s jokes, even if they’re not funny. That’s the first rule of being a kid.
Mr. Klutz looked at Droney.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s a wireless, radio-controlled, speech-synthesized flying robot,�
� explained Miss Aker. “We made it.”
“And we named it Droney,” said Ryan. “It shoots marshmallows.”
“Cool!” said Mr. Klutz. “I’m so proud of you kids. You’re really getting into the spirit of the Maker Movement.”
“We were about to test Droney,” said Miss Aker. “Would you like to watch, Mr. Klutz?”
“You bet!” he said.
Mr. Docker tinkered with Droney’s motor. Mrs. Yonkers adjusted Droney’s propellers. Miss Aker flipped Droney’s ON switch. And slowly, Droney rose up off the table and hovered in the air.
“WOW,” said Mr. Klutz, which is “MOM” upside down. “How do you control it? Is there a remote?”
“No, we control it with voice commands,” said Miss Aker. “Speak, Droney!”
“HELLO,” Droney said in a computery voice. “MY NAME IS DRONEY.”
“It talks?” said Mr. Klutz.
“It’s smart too!” said Miss Aker. “Watch this. Droney, who invented the Band-Aid?”
“THE BAND-AID WAS INVENTED IN 1920 BY EARLE DICKSON IN NEW JERSEY,” said Droney.
“We downloaded the entire internet into Droney’s memory,” said Mrs. Yonkers. “So it knows everything.”
“I AM SMARTER THAN ANY HUMAN BEING,” said Droney.
“Gee, Droney is kind of full of itself,” I said.
“Yeah, Droney shouldn’t brag,” said Andrea. “Bragging isn’t nice.”
“I HEARD THAT,” said Droney.
“I guess we should have programmed Droney to be more modest,” Miss Aker whispered.
“MR. KLUTZ,” said Droney, “WOULD YOU LIKE TO ARM WRESTLE?”
Mr. Klutz laughed. He’s a big, strong man, and it seemed kind of silly for him to arm wrestle a robot half his size.
“Oh, I don’t want to break you,” said Mr. Klutz.
“DON’T WORRY,” said Droney. “IF I GET HURT, THE KIDS CAN PRINT OUT A NEW ARM ON THE 3D PRINTER.”
Good point. Droney hovered next to the table. Mr. Klutz got into position. Miss Aker put Mr. Klutz’s hand against Droney’s claw hand.
“This will be a piece of cake,” Mr. Klutz whispered to us.*
“Okay,” said Miss Aker. “Ready? Set? GO!”
