The Heinie Prize
Page 5
Next activity for King Belzer: Singing in a Barbershop Quartet. It was totally gross. I covered my ears.
Next on the list: Sherman made all the guys read from the U.S. Constitution out loud. Belzer had trouble sounding out the words. He muttered to himself, totally embarrassed.
Then Sherman brought in a carton of accordions, and they took accordion lessons for an hour. Belzer pulled too hard and ripped his accordion in half.
“Can we stop now?” he begged, his whole body shaking. “Are we done?”
“Just starting, dude,” Sherman said, grinning. “You’re one of us now. This is what we do every morning.”
Next came posture lessons. Then, Fun with Algebra Equations. Then choir practice. Then origami. Belzer couldn’t get the hang of origami. After a few minutes, his hands were covered in paper cuts.
Belzer looked like a dried-up SpongeBob, and it was only eight o’clock! According to the list Sherman and I had dreamed up, Belzer had two more hours of wonderful Nyce House activities.
I sneaked back outside. I couldn’t help it. I opened my mouth and shouted out a loud victory whoop. I cheered myself all the way back to the dorm.
I found Feenman and Crench carrying my stuff back into my room. Crench carried my desk on his back. He was grunting and groaning.
“You’re gonna miss Belzer,” he groaned. “Who else is going to bring you breakfast in bed, dress you, walk your dog, and carry you piggyback to class?”
“Don’t worry about Belzer,” I said. “He’ll be back.”
I checked my watch. “Synchronize your watches, dudes,” I said. “Belzer will be back here by noon.”
They checked their watches.
“Now, get moving,” I said. “Bring my bed back in here. Careful with the mattress. It’s a pillow-top. Don’t wrinkle it!”
Chapter 24
11:59
At 11:59 that morning, Feenman, Crench, and I sat in my room, waiting. Listening.
“How do you know he’ll be here in one minute?” Crench asked.
“Ssshhh. Do you hear something?” I whispered.
We listened harder.
Yes. I heard the creak of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Someone was wheezing and panting as he climbed.
Belzer staggered into the room.
I checked my watch. Noon.
Hey, I never miss.
Belzer stood hunched over in the doorway, sweating, shaking, panting. His freckles were quivering on his face.
No one said a word. I waited for him to start begging.
“Bernie, please…,” he started. “Can I come back?”
“Come back here?” I said. “Why, King Belzer, you wouldn’t want to live in a pit like this!”
“Please, Bernie—I can’t take it in Nyce House. This morning we had to learn how to KNIT. Then we all sang ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’ as a round—for hours! Then we planted herbs in an herb garden. Then we all had to dig into our wallets and give money to CHARITY. It’s SICK! Totally SICK over there!”
“Sounds like a lot of good fun,” I said. “It’s so boring here at Rotten House.”
“Please, Bernie”—Belzer grabbed the front of my shirt and tugged it—“please, please, please. Let me come back.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Remember, you’re the King of the Campus. You have to live in style.”
“Forget the king stuff,” Belzer said. “I just want to go back to the way it was.”
I studied him. “You think you could?”
“Yes, yes, oh yes!” he cried. “I’ll walk Gassy. I’ll do your laundry. I’ll do your homework. I’ll carry you piggyback to class every morning.”
I stared at him. I rubbed my chin as if I were thinking about it, thinking hard. I shook my head a few times.
Finally, I said, “Okay, Belzer. You can come back. You can move back into the little closet with Feenman and Crench!”
“Oh, thank you, Bernie!” he cried. He had tears running down his face. “Thank you! Thank you! You won’t be sorry.”
“Okay,” I said. “Glad that’s settled. Glad being king didn’t spoil you, Belzer. Glad you’re back to your old self. Now you can go get me a root beer.”
“Get your own root beer,” he said.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R.L. Stine graduated from Rotten School with a solid D+ average, which put him at the top of his class. He says that his favorite activities at school were Scratching Body Parts and Making Armpit Noises.
In sixth grade, R.L. won the school Athletic Award for his performance in the Wedgie Championships. Unfortunately, after the tournament, his underpants had to be surgically removed.
After graduation, R.L. became well known for writing scary book series such as The Nightmare Room, Fear Street, Goosebumps, and Mostly Ghostly, and a short story collection called Beware!
Today, R.L. lives in New York City, where he is busy writing stories about his school days.
For more information about R.L. Stine, go to www.rottenschool.com and www.rlstine.com
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
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Copyright
ROTTEN SCHOOL #6: THE HEINIE PRIZE. Copyright © 2006 by Parachute Publishing, L.L.C. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition March 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-190771-5
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