Mike: Are you always this stupid, kid? Or are you making a special effort today?
Nick: At least I’m honest. Mike here steals free samples at the grocery store. And he snuck a big spoon into the Super Bowl.
Mike (who looks like he’s getting angry): You really are a nut job, Nick. But I guess brains aren’t everything. In fact, in your case, they’re nothing.
Nick (who looks like he’s enjoying himself): Well, I would never say Mike is crazy . . . but during the break he asked me what comes after X. I said, “Y,” and he swore at me and said, “Because I want to know, kid!” The closest this guy gets to a brainstorm is a light drizzle.
Mike: Oh yeah? Well, if you ever want to lose 10 pounds, I’ll happily chop off your head!
Nick (looking up): Mike, do you ever wonder if clouds look down at us and say, “There! Doesn’t that one look like a kid?” And, “That one’s shaped like a jerk!”
Mike: You little—! (Mike said three quick insults, which I won’t repeat, because they’re just too nasty. Most of the audience laughed hard, though. I did not.)
That’s when the buzzer sounded. And the audience kept roaring with laughter at Mike’s insults.
Travis, Mom, Gram, and I are just sitting here, waiting.
And waiting.
Julie, why is it taking them so long to decide? Poor Nick looks lost up there onstage.
Here comes the Insult King. He’s taking slips of paper, the ballots, from each of the judges. He’s going to announce the winner of the Last Male Insult Standing.
“And the winner, who will face the winner of the ladies’ insult contest, is . . .”
Not Nick.
Nick didn’t win. I think I already knew it. Not because Nick didn’t do great, but I could tell by the way Kirby walked to the microphone, like he didn’t want to be the one delivering this bad news.
This is awful. Nick is out. Now it’s all up to me. And if I don’t win . . .
Nick the Loser here.
I lost, Julie. I wish you were here to give me one of your bear hugs and tell me it’s okay and you’re still proud of your big brother. I really thought I had it sewn up . . . until Mike hit me with rapid-fire insults right at the end. Of course, he used words Dad would have killed me for using.
Jen and Gram and Dad are being really nice, which is what people are to losers. Cassie punched me in the arm, hard, before she left to go onstage. Somehow, that was the best, like her punch said it was okay and I was still Nick, not a big loser, and she didn’t feel sorry for me.
But now I’ve put all the pressure on her. It’s up to Cassie. I feel bad about that. All along, I’ve been picturing this contest. I’ve imagined that Cassie and I would both win, and we’d end up in the finals. But it’s weird. That’s where my vision ended. I’ve had trouble imagining Cassie and me insulting each other for real. I know. We’ve insulted each other ever since the first day we met. But, well, I don’t know. Insults don’t seem all they’re cracked up to be today. (Did I just insult insults?)
Maybe that’s because I’m a big, fat loser (who isn’t fat).
Oh man! Cassie is on her little step onstage, and Sharon looks like she’s ready to gobble Cassie up for lunch. My hand is shaking too much to write.
Hi, Julie. Gram here. I reckon I’d better take over, since Nick looks like he can barely hold on to the pen. The show has cut to another commercial break, so I’ll try to catch you up.
I hope you’re doing okay, honey. I sure do miss you. You’d be mighty proud of your brother and almost stepsister. Those two are really something!
We all wish you were here, sugar! Even Johnny (the Insult King) asked where you were. Who would have thought he’d end up as a friend? Life sure has a way of surprising us, doesn’t it?
Oh my! They’re back. Onstage, it’s that mean gal, Sharon, and our little Cassie.
Johnathan Kirby turns to us, the audience, and says, “We’re here for the final female round to determine the Last Female Insult Standing. I’d like to give a special welcome to the families of our contestants.”
He means us, and the cameras shift to get us on TV. I feel my cheeks heat up in a big ol’ blush. Julie, did you ever hear what Mark Twain said about blushing? He said, “Man is the only animal that blushes. Or needs to.” Ha!
Now Johnny is staring into the camera as if he’s confiding to his TV audience. “Everybody here brings me a lot of joy,” he says, “when they leave.” Ha ha. “And now, Sharon and Cassie, it’s time to insult!”
Sharon: I’m glad it’s you up here, kid, because I’ve got a message for you: children should never be seen or heard or born! And here’s another message for you—stop smiling! W. C. Fields said to start off every day with a smile and get it over with. You should be over it by now.
Cassie: You brought me two messages? There’s a proverb that says, “Trusting a fool to convey a message is like cutting off one’s feet or drinking poison.”
Sharon: You think you’re so smart with your little proverbs. Well, here’s one for you: respect your elders! Ain’t you never heard that one, kid? Honor your elders, or something?
Cassie (smiling sweetly): “Honoring a fool is as foolish as tying a stone to a slingshot.”
Sharon: I can’t even understand you! (She’s getting really mad now!)
Sharon: *x!@#$$(&^%#$
Julie, I just can’t keep up with that gal’s meanness! She’s not just insulting our Cassie. She’s calling her names! Cassie is sticking with her one-liners and her proverbs, and it’s pushing that woman over the edge. Why, I’d like to—
Nick here! Julie, Gram got so mad at Sharon for swearing at Cassie that she started storming out of her seat and heading for the stage. Dad’s calming her down now, but I’ll try to keep you up to date.
Sharon is still shouting at Cassie, like Cassie’s really getting to her. “You little twerp!” she says. And she’s saying other words that probably come out as BLEEP BLEEP on television because they can’t say those words on regular TV. I don’t know why the audience is laughing. The names she’s calling Cassie are not funny. Now she’s getting right in Cassie’s face. “You think you’re so smart with your big words!” she shouts. I can see spit flying. I hope it misses Cassie.
Cassie says real sweet, “I’m just sayin’. Wise words satisfy like a good meal.”
Sharon, looking confused and angry, says, “Are you calling me fat?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, but keeps going off on Cassie like you wouldn’t believe. There is nothing funny about anything she’s saying. She’s out of control and crazy mad! I want this to be over!
“Didn’t anybody tell you that you’re just a kid?” Sharon says. “A runt of a kid at that. You ought to eat spinach and grow big and strong enough to tell your ma you won’t eat the stuff.”
The buzzer went off. I don’t think any of us knows how Cassie did. But we’re all super proud of her. I hope she knows that.
Now we wait.
And wait.
Julie, Dad just took Jen’s hand, and she didn’t pull away or anything. They both look as scared as I feel. Gram does too.
Here comes Kirby the Insult King. He’s talking with those three judges. I think he’s arguing with them. Now he’s walking toward the microphone to announce the winner, the Last Female Insult Standing.
I lost.
This is me, Cassie. Nick threw this letter down on the ground and stomped it when Kirby announced that Sharon was the winner. That’s why this page is so wrinkly.
Yep. Sharon won. When Mr. Kirby read out her name, Sharon was the only one in the whole auditorium who cheered. The room grew as still as a snow-covered Hamilton night. You could have heard a sledgehammer drop, as Gram likes to say. And all of this is on live TV. I’ll bet people all over America are still fiddling with their TVs, thinking something’s wrong with their cable volume.
They cut for a commercial. King Kirby came offstage and headed for us. He didn’t look any happier than we did. “I’m sorry, kids,” he said
in a tone that was about as far from an insult as you can get. “I tried to talk sense into those judges, but they wouldn’t budge. I can’t change their minds.”
“This isn’t your fault,” Gram said. “We’ll be fine.”
Nick took it really hard. “Can we go home now?” he asked Kirby. “I don’t want to hear Sharon and Mike insult each other. I’ve had my fill of insults.”
“Me too.” I was trying not to cry, but the tears were in my voice, so I cleared my throat. “Mr. Kirby, thank you for everything. Thanks for writing me back, finally. And for showing us around Hannibal and everything.” I wanted to make him feel better, so I said, “Nick and I want you to know that this really has been fun. Mostly. In fact, we agree with Groucho Marx, who said: ‘I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn’t it.’”
The King started to say something, but his producer grabbed his arm and dragged him back onstage just as the commercial ended.
Without another word, we all stood up—Gram, Mom, Travis, Nick, and me. Over the mic, I heard the King explain that the Last Insult Standing, Mike or Sharon, would win an all-inclusive cruise to the Bahamas.
We were moving toward the exit when I heard Nick’s and my name called out from the stage.
Kirby the Insult King said, “And audience favorites Cassie and Nick will be joining me in my performances on our Celebrity Cruise!”
FROM: MARTIN SMIRNOFF, PRODUCER OF THE HOUR OF INSULT
ABOARD THE GOOD SHIP BEL
TO: SERINA MADISON,
CASTING DIRECTOR OF THE HOUR OF INSULT
Serina, the Christmas Celebrity Cruise is a big hit, thanks in no small part to the two kids. They’re working as a team, reminiscent of vaudeville. Not exactly insults, but it’s hot. Here’s a sample:
Nick: When we boarded this ship, we were hungry.
Cassie: And now we’re just fed up.
The King: Easy, you two. I’m not myself today.
Nick: We know. We noticed the improvement right away.
Cassie: Mr. Kirby, thanks for joining us. We’ve been waiting all day for the pleasure of your company.
Nick: Actually, we’re still waiting for that.
The King: You are downright insulting!
Cassie: I know you are, but what am I?
Nick: I’m rubber, and you’re glue.
Cassie and Nick: Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!
The King (acting angry): I don’t need this. I’ve got my own TV show.
Cassie: Well, King Kirby, I’d like to say that I don’t think your TV show is lousy. But what’s my opinion, next to the thousands of others who disagree with me? (She turns to Nick.) As for you, Nick . . . you are fabonomous.
Nick (grinning): Cassie, put a sock in it.
I think we should have them on the show next year.
Marty the Smarty
Jen Callahan
Aboard the Good Ship Bel
Dear Pastor Mike,
Merry Christmas! Here we are, all of us, guests on the Celebrity Cruise. I still can’t believe we’re all here. Together. I never really thanked you for the visits with my daughter while I was away. Cassie has grown up so much—but not too much.
Thank you for what turned out to be a wedding none of us will ever forget, which is, I suppose, a good thing. I hope nobody really minded having a dog as flower girl and kids as maid of honor and best man. And I hope you were able to get Julie’s vomit out of the new carpet. She just couldn’t help it. You might try using a spatula, then sprinkling baking soda, followed by cornstarch. The remainder should come out with warm water and a rag.
We are having the time of our lives on our honeymoon. So are Cassie and Nick and Julie and Mom.
Thanks again!
Jen
Emma Hendren
Somewhere in the middle of the ocean on Christmas
Dear Pastor Mike,
Pray for me! The ocean is rough, and I’m seasick. But our family is together at last. You’ll be seeing us in our family pew when we return (12th row, left side—don’t let the Adams family try to slip in there while we’re on the cruise).
Nauseatedly (as Cassie would write),
Emma
Travis Barton
Aboard the Bel
Hi, Dad,
Jen and I and the kids are having a great time. Wish you were here! But at least you made it for the wedding, right? Thanks for staying late and helping with cleanup. Almost everyone was a good sport, don’t you think?
We miss you, but I know you’d regret missing that gin rummy tournament at the retirement home. Hope you remembered to go downstairs for it. I’m sure you’ll hold on to your championship title. This family seems to have a lot of champs lately! And as Mark Twain said, “History may not repeat itself. But it does rhyme a lot.”
Love,
Travis
Julie Barton
(as dictated to Cassie)
On a big ship
Dear Kirby the Dog,
All of my whole entire family on this boat is sitting in these lawn chairs on the deck and writing postcards to friends and relatives. Since everybody I might want to write is here, except for Grandad, and I see that Dad is writing him, I am writing you.
I really, really, really miss you, Kirby! As soon as I saw this funny postcard with the dog on it, I thought of you, and I thought you’d like it. Don’t eat it, okay?
I can’t wait to swing with you and maybe have you sleep on my bed! Cassie says she’d be fine with that idea. I am so thankful that things have worked out for Dad and Jen. We have our family back! And you are part of that family!
See you soon and forever!
Love,
Julie
Kirby the Insult King
Christmas Celebrity Cruise
To: All cast and crew of The Hour of Insult
Did you see those ratings? The Last Insult Standing went through the roof!
Now leave me alone. I’m on vacation.
Signed,
The King
Nick Barton
Cruise Ship, the Bel
Dear Mom, wherever you are,
Merry Christmas! I am on a big family cruise with my new big family. We’re all super happy, but it made me think about you. I hope wherever you are, you’re happy. I am sorry you aren’t still part of our family. (Although that probably wouldn’t have worked for Jen, Cassie’s mom. She is very nice and understanding, but not THAT understanding!)
Even though I may never see you again, it would be nice to know that you know Julie and me are doing fine. Great, in fact! AND I have a new sister, Cassie! And a dog named Kirby.
I have never seen Dad so happy. He is not even a tiny bit grumpy.
Love,
Nick
Cassie Callahan
Aboard the Bel Celebrity Cruise ship (from “Beleidigung,” German for “insult”)
Way out in the ocean on your birthday
Dear Jesus,
Well, you did it! Travis and Mom are not just back together. They’re married! I don’t even care about losing that contest, and neither does Nick. We are exactly where we wanted to be. (And you knew all along, didn’t you?)
We really are one big, happy family, and we could not have done it without you. Thank you for letting me ask and ask and knock and seek a million times!
Thanks for your letters and the other stuff in the Bible. I will never forget that one in Colossians, about letting my conversation be gracious so that I will have the right response for everyone.
I’ve read about you being in those fishing boats and storms at sea and how you walked on water. I’m not going to try any of that. We are all just sitting on the deck of the cruise ship, our lawn chairs shoved close together, while sunlight sparkles the water and the sun sinks into it.
I’m just sayin’ . . .
It sure feels like happily ever after.
Love,
Cassie
Acknowledgments
I love my Tyndale team
, who work together to make me better than I am. Thanks to Linda Howard, associate publisher, children and youth, for loving to brainstorm ideas and then turning those ideas into realities. Stephanie Riche, senior editor, thank you for your encouragement, wisdom, and friendship. Jackie Nuñez, art director, thanks for sharing your creativity, talents, and artistic gifts with me. And I’m so grateful for Sarah Rubio, my editor, who in addition to her profound skills and keen perception, is a joy to work with. Thanks also to Alyssa Anderson, Brittany Bergman, Nancy Clausen, Raquel Corbin, Jesse Doogan, Kristi Gravemann, Tim Wolf, Stephanie Brockway, Lisanne Kaufmann, Elizabeth Kletzing, and Sheila Urban.
Eternal thanks to my Katy, whose sweet, Julie-like spirit rises above obstacles to touch everyone she meets, leaving us all better people. I can’t leave out my Cassie, Ellie, and Maddie, who provide me with endless inspiration.
Finally, I couldn’t do anything without my talented and loving husband—my first reader, my constant hero, and the love of my life.
About the Author
DANDI DALEY MACKALL is the award-winning author of over 450 books for children and adults. She visits countless schools, conducts writing assemblies and workshops across the United States, and presents keynote addresses at conferences and young author events. She is also a frequent guest on radio talk shows and has made dozens of appearances on TV. She has won several awards for her writing, including the Helen Keating Ott Award for Contributions to Children’s Literature, the Edgar Award, the Christian Children’s Book of the Year Award and is a two-time Mom’s Choice Award winner.
Dandi writes from rural Ohio, where she lives with her husband, Joe, their three children, and their horses, dogs, and cats. Visit her at DandiBooks.com.
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