by Jon Scieszka
“Oh, no,” groaned Venus, dropping her head down on her notebook. “These spelling words are boring me unconscious.”
TJ was already asleep, with his head on his desk.
Major Fluffy was curled up next to his half-chewed toilet paper tube, snoring.
Bob nodded in his chair. “Why does my brain feel like J-E-L-L-O?”
“It’s because your unused brain is turning to mush,” said Venus.
Jennifer blinked and started to shake. “Mush? Like pudding? SPHDZ do NOT like mush.”
Michael K. remembered what happened the last time Jennifer got upset by pudding. And he did not want to see that again. Michael K. raised his hand.
“Yes, Michael K.,” said Mrs. Halley.
“Jennifer is having a bad reaction to spelling practice. And it’s almost the end of our fifth-grade year. Do you think we could do something a little more . . . um . . . exciting?”
Mrs. Halley put her finger to her lips and thought for a minute. “Yes,” she said. “That is a very good idea. Let’s put away our spelling notebooks.”
The whole class woke up a bit.
It suddenly looked like a very nice spring day again.
Michael K. smiled.
Mrs. Halley dug inside her desk. “Let’s get to the real important and exciting stuff.” Mrs. Halley pulled out another notebook. “And let’s all take out our math notebooks for . . .”
“Oh, no,” said Michael K.
Mrs. Halley held up her math notebook triumphantly. “Adding and subtracting . . . fractions!”
Mrs. Halley loved spelling.
But she really loved fractions.
No one knew why.
The whole room 501-B gave a giant groan like they had been punched in one giant class stomach.
The day had just gone from very boring to painfully boring.
Big Joey shot Michael K. a mean look.
“Thanks for nothing, smart guy.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” said Mrs. Halley, barely able to contain her excitement. “As you remember, when adding or subtracting fractions, you must first do what?”
“Convert to common denominators,” said Michael K. He figured it was the least he could do to help the class out of this mess he had gotten them into.
“Yes!” exclaimed Mrs. Halley, with way more enthusiasm than is ever necessary for fractions.
Venus secretly opened her laptop and started scanning for Spaceheadz network news from Alaska, Florida, or the Amazon.
“So we add one fourth to one third . . .”
All of the teams had landed safely at their destinations. They were closing in on the chief.
Venus showed Michael K. the update.
Everyone else was actually doing something.
“By realizing that twelve is the LCD or least common denominator of three and four. . . .”
Jennifer started to nod off.
“Brain going fuzzy again,” Bob mumbled.
“BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP,” interrupted the speaker above the door. “This is a special announcement from the principal’s office. There has been an unfortunate accident.”
“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Halley.
“Principal Edison has been called away,” said the voice from the speaker. “Our new principal has asked that everyone stand by for a special graduation assignment.”
“Could this year get any weirder?” said Michael K.
“Especially the fifth grade,” said the speaker.
“Eeeeeee,” said Major Fluffy.
Mrs. Halley handed out the single sheets of paper from the principal’s office.
Everyone in room 501-B started complaining.
“Oh, no. Not more homework.”
“Who does this new principal think he is?”
“This new principal is terrible!”
“I hate this new principal!”
Then everyone read the assignment.
Assignment
• Examine 2 hours of television tonight.
Must include:
1 cartoon
1 reality show
1 preschool show
64 commercials
• Complete 1 hour of computer activities.
Activities must include:
Video search for “cute animals,” “sharks,” and “volcanoes”
Visit 12 different websites
Click on 28 different logos
Click 6 agree boxes
• Play 1 hour of video games.
Games must include:
Racing
Jumping over things trying to smash you
Eating things
Smashing and blowing things up
Venus looked up from her sheet. “I think I love this new principal!”
Michael K. looked over the assignment again to make sure it said what he thought it said. “This is crazy. Crazy great. Our new principal is the best.”
“KNOCKDOWN 100% NEW AND DELICIOUS!” said Jennifer.
“Cool,” said TJ. “Maybe we did get the best assignment. This is my kind of graduation work.”
Mrs. Halley didn’t know what to say.
This was not spelling or fractions.
Mrs. Halley read the assignment again and shook her head.
Goo.
“Goo goo.
“Goo goo gah gah?” asked Baby K.
“Breeeeeee! Eeeeeeee!” answered the circus elephant just outside the tent.
The long, thin, brightly colored circus pennants flapped in the hot and humid Florida breeze.
“We are looking for a little man with a bald head and a squeaky voice,” said Mom K. to the circus strong man.
“Oh, yeah,” said the giant muscled guy. “That’s our head clown. He makes everyone call him Chief.”
“Yes!” said Dad K., tying the yellow laces on his giant green clown shoes. “It must be him. Where is he?”
“He only does the big-top show tomorrow,” said the strong man.
“Okay,” said Dad K. to Mom K. and Baby K. “We will blend in with the other clowns. Act natural. Act funny. Then we make our move and grab the chief!”
“Goo gah,” warned Baby K., shaking the giant frilly bonnet on her head.
“Breee beee beee,” suggested Ella the elephant.
“Ding-ding-ding-ding,” rang the tiny clown fire truck bell.
Dad K., Mom K., and Baby K. climbed into the very small red truck to clown around.
A cold blue wave slapped the gunmetal gray hull of the DarkWave X stealth boat.
Giant cliffs of white-blue ice towered over the tiny craft bobbing in the rough chop.
Foxtrot braced herself against the icy rail and aimed the big listening cone toward a cluster of small wooden cabins on an island just offshore.
“And you are sure this little guy with the bald head and squeaky voice lives on this island?” Foxtrot asked a small man wrapped in sealskin standing next to her.
“Oh, yes,” said the man. “The big island with the totem pole. He is called the chief.”
“Perfect,” said pirate Echo, connecting the wire from the listening cone to his recorder. “We can listen in. When we hear him, we move in and nab the chief!”
“Sometimes,” said the little man in the fur, “the clocks run backward.”
Sailor Delta steered the stealth boat around the island. “That sounds like our man.”
“No,” said Foxtrot. “That sounds like our alien.”
Echo listened carefully to the sounds of strange whistling and clicking.
“As soon as we hear him,” said Foxtrot, “we make our move!”
Two scientific explorers in pith helmets stood staring at the broad, brownish river flowing in front of them.
“Chief,” said a small, barefoot boy wearing Nike shorts and a Dallas Cowboys T-shirt. The boy pointed across the river. Then he pointed to a wooden dugout canoe on the bank.
“Oh, no,” said scientist Umber. “Did I tell you that I have a fear of small boats?”
“
No, you didn’t tell me that,” said scientist Hot Magenta. “But you did tell me you have a fear of spiders, a fear of snakes, a fear of tall trees, a fear of diet sodas, and a fear of Reese’s peanut butter cups. And what else?”
A brightly colored black and yellow frog hopped down the path behind Umber and Hot Magenta.
“Yikes!” yelled Umber.
“And little brightly colored frogs?” said Hot Magenta.
Umber nodded.
Overhead a band of screeching spider monkeys jumped from tree to tree like something was chasing them.
The boy looked upriver over his shoulder and pointed to the canoe more urgently.
“Now, now. Go chief. Army comes.”
A giant horned beetle ran past. A flock of red parrots flew cawing through the underbrush.
Now the boy jumped up and down. He waved both arms. He chomped his teeth.
“Army comes now!” Chomp, chomp, chomp. “You go, go, go!”
“An army?” said Hot Magenta.
The boy waved his arms again, pretending like he was crawling . . . and still biting everything in sight.
“Maybe we can just walk around,” said Umber.
“It’s the Amazon River, for goodness’ sake,” said Hot Magenta. “It’s thousands of miles long!”
Now the trickle of bugs and birds and monkeys jumping through the jungle had turned into a real rush-hour jam of crawling, hopping, flying creatures.
The boy gave one more look upriver. Then he grabbed Hot Magenta’s hand, shook it, and said, “Goods-bye. Have nice day.” And he ran off, along with all of the other birds and beasts of the forest, as fast as he could.
“This does not look good,” said Hot Magenta.
“Maybe there is a bridge we could walk across?” said Umber.
The screeching and rustling of animals in the jungle grew louder.
Umber walked up the path and looked around the bend in the river for a bridge. He did not see a bridge. But what he did see cured him of his fear of small boats.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!” screamed Umber, running back to Hot Magenta as fast as he could. Umber jumped in the boat, pulled Hot Magenta in after him, and began paddling furiously. “WAAAAAA! WAAAAAA! ARMY! AAAAAAA! Go, go, go!”
“What?” said Hot Magenta.
“An army,” gasped Umber. “Millions!”
And as Umber and Magenta’s canoe cleared the jungle bank, an army of millions of ants poured down the path where they had just been. The ants covered the jungle floor and low bushes, swarming, biting, ripping apart any bug, bird, or beast not fast enough to escape their chomping jaws.
The morning after Graduation Assignment #1, room 501-B was unusually quiet.
Almost every kid in class sat staring off into space.
Every kid except Michael K.
“Did you finish your assignment last night?” Michael K. asked TJ and Venus.
“Yeah,” said TJ. “I thought it would be fun. Like eating a big slice of cake. But I don’t feel so good. I feel like I ate the whole cake.”
“Me too,” said Venus. “But I want more.”
“MORE FRUITY FLAVOR,” said Bob.
“MORE CLEANING POWER,” said Jennifer
“Not me,” said Michael K. “I don’t want to do any more of this.”
“BEEEEEEEEEEP,” went the class loudspeaker. “Hello. This is your principal. Graduation Assignment Number Two will be completed in class today. Please follow your teacher’s directions. That is all.”
Almost everyone in 501-B nodded. They wanted more.
Mrs. Halley wrote down Assignment #2 on the blackboard:
Assignment #2
• Continue two hours of TV, one hour of computer, one hour of video games.
• Add one hour of texting friends.
• Add one hour of listening to music.
• Do as many activities as you can at the same time.
“Yes,” said Venus.
“We want to,” said Bob.
“Why are you guys acting so weird?” said Michael K.
Venus’s laptop chimed with an incoming message.
Venus ignored the message alert and started another game of Smashing Fruit!
Venus never ignored an incoming message.
“Venus,” said Michael K. “Those are Spaceheadz messages.”
“Yeah,” said Venus, smashing more fruit.
Michael K. clicked on the incoming message and read it for himself.
“The chief! Team DarkWave X has found him in Alaska! They are making their move to grab him right now!”
Venus’s laptop chimed again.
“Wait a minute. Mom, Dad, and my baby sister have found the chief in Florida. They are picking him up right now.”
Venus’s laptop chimed once more.
“Umber and Hot Magenta in the Amazon. The chief is there.
“Something is very wrong,” said Michael K. “The chief can’t be in all three places. Which one is it?”
Ding-ding-ding-ding,” rang the tiny fire truck bell.
The line of elephants finished their dance act and filed out of the center ring.
The crowd cheered.
Dad K. peeked out of the fire truck window. He could just see the top of the bald clown’s head.
“Perfect,” said Dad K. “This is it—we jump out, grab the chief, make it look like part of the act, then throw him in the back of the fire truck and take off before anybody knows what happened.”
“Got it,” said Mom K., adjusting the single droopy flower on her hat.
“Goo gee gee blaa,” warned Baby K.
“Breeee beee,” agreed her elephant friend walking by.
But it was too late.
The clown fire truck skidded to a stop. Clown after clown after clown after clown after clown after clown after clown after clown climbed out of the truck.
“Showtime!” shouted Dad K. And he and Mom K. and Baby K. piled on the small, round, bald-headed clown.
“Got you!”
* * *
Foxtrot listened carefully to the clicks and whistles one more time. “That’s him, all right.”
Foxtrot turned to the sailor and the pirate. “This is it—we bust in, pretend we are pirate/sailor/fisherman, grab the chief, and get back here to the boat before anybody knows what happened.”
“Aye, aye,” said pirate Echo.
“Anchors aweigh,” said sailor Delta.
“Then let’s reel him in!” said fisherman Foxtrot.
Delta gunned the engine and ran the stealth boat right up onshore.
The fisherman, sailor, and pirate sprinted up the beach, kicked open the cabin door, and pounced on a small, bald man sitting at his kitchen table.
“Got you!”
* * *
Umber and Hot Magenta crouched behind one gigantic green leaf sprouting from one of the million jungle bushes.
Umber looked through a slit in the leaf at a small, bald man sitting by a fire.
“This is it,” whispered Umber. “We rush him, tie him up, and get him out of here before anybody knows what happened.”
Hot Magenta pulled her pith helmet down tight on her head. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s protect and serve and—”
“Always look up,” said Umber.
A flock of parrots screeched in the distance.
A line of ants marched down the center of the giant green leaf.
Umber silently flashed his fingers—one . . . two . . . three—and then pointed Go!
Umber and Hot Magenta jumped from behind the huge leaf, ran across the soggy jungle floor, and each grabbed an arm of the small, bald guy before he even moved.
“Got you!”
The red-orange rays of the sinking sun glanced off the glass of the TV sets hung over the blackboard in the front of room 501-B.
The kindergartners and the first, second, third, and fourth graders had gone home hours ago.
But the fifth graders of P.S. 858 sat on chairs, desks, and the floor, still wor
king on finishing Assignment #2. Because the fifth graders had special permission from the principal’s office to stay in school all day, all night, all week if they wanted.
And they wanted.
TJ and Jennifer ran their players through the twenty-seventh game of Madden NFL.
“Touchdown!” said Jennifer.
“Do you want to play one more?” asked TJ.
“Yes,” said Jennifer.
TJ reset for game twenty-eight.
In the Science Corner, Big Joey and his pals Dan and Pete sang the ads for CrispyChicken and double bacon cheeseburgers.
“Do you want to sing one more?” asked Big Joey.
“Yes!” said Pete.
Venus and Major Fluffy watched a video of a dog riding a skateboard, a video of a cat eating peanut butter, a video of a monkey jumping on a bed, a video of a green parrot sleeping on a gray cat.
“Want to watch one more?” said Venus.
“Eee!” said Major Fluffy.
Now Michael K. was really spooked. He liked his TV, video games, and computer as much as anyone. But this was crazy. Even Mrs. Halley had turned into some kind of media-feeding zombie.
“Hey, guys,” said Michael K. “The sun is going down. It’s late. Let’s get out of here and take a break.”
Nobody moved.
“Need more,” said Bob.
“Want more,” said Jennifer.
“More,” said Mrs. Halley. She hunched over her video bingo. “One more . . .”
The last of the sun disappeared.
Room 501-B hummed.
Michael K. dropped his head on his desk and drifted off, u-n-c-o-n-s-c-i-o-u-s.
Michael K. jolted awake to the sound of blasting and yelling.
PWWWWWOW!
PZZZZINNNGG!
BAZOOOOOAAAANG!
“More!” Mrs. Halley yelled at her computer screen, firing at the swarm of enemies attacking her position.
Mrs. Halley pushed the pile of Hot Tamales boxes and empty Mountain Dew cans off her desk and onto the heap of trash already on the floor.
“More,” said Mrs. Halley. “More, more, more!”
