by R. L. Stine
“But we just got here!” Feenman cried.
Feldspar grinned at us. “Hope I didn’t keep you guys up too late,” he said. And he winked.
Feldspar did it deliberately, I realized. He kept us here playing cards to keep us from working on our invention.
Clever. The guy was as clever as someone else I knew—ME.
We really had been punk’d and skunked!
Chapter 16
THINK…THINK…THINK…
Time for Bernie B. to give a pep talk. I paced back and forth in my dorm room. “Okay, guys,” I said. “I know it’s already two in the morning. But we’re gonna stay up all night and build a fabulous invention. Right?”
No answer.
Feenman and Crench were leaning against each other, asleep on the couch. Belzer lay flat on his back on the floor, snoring away.
“Bad attitude, guys,” I said. I shook them awake. “After tomorrow, only four schools will be left in the contest. And we want to be one of them. So start thinking.”
Belzer sat up and yawned. “How about an invention that helps you sleep?” he moaned. He dropped back onto the floor.
I shook all three of them some more. I tickled them. I slapped their cheeks. I put ice cubes down their backs.
I work hard for my guys.
Finally I pulled them to their feet. “It’s for your own good,” I said. “You want to be looking cool on MTV-6, don’t you?”
They nodded.
“Start thinking,” I said. “If we get a good idea, we can catch a few hours of sleep.”
“I’ve got an awesome idea,” Feenman said. He grabbed the flat-screen TV on the dresser. “We take this to the contest and say we invented it.”
“Feenman, go back to sleep,” I said.
He blinked several times. “How about a shirt you can wear on your head?”
“How about you go back to sleep?” I said.
“Bernie, how about shoes with an alarm in them? You know. Like a car alarm. In case someone tries to steal your shoes?”
“Feenman, does your head feel hot?” I said. “I think you’ve overheated your brain.”
He felt his forehead. “You think so?”
Crench snapped his fingers. “I got one, Big B! It’s a toothbrush, see. But it has a brush on both ends. That way, you can brush both sides of your mouth at once.”
I patted Crench’s shoulder. “You can go back to sleep, too.”
Belzer was already asleep.
I knew it. I knew it would come down to my brilliant brain.
Time for me to come up with something awesome and save the day for me and my good buddies.
Think, Bernie…think…think.…
YAWWWWWWWWN.
When I woke up, it was 8:20 the next morning.
We had ten minutes. Ten minutes to get cleaned up, changed, make an invention, and get to the science lab for Round One.
Chapter 17
STUCK IN THE SWAMP
“Settle down, people. People! People! Settle down.”
Mr. Spittup, the contest judge, was trying to get everyone quiet. He was a young guy, with perfect wavy brown hair, thick eyebrows over green eyes, a flashy smile, an excellent tan, and a silver ring in one earlobe. He wore a white shirt open at the neck over straight-legged jeans.
The kids in the contest gathered in groups around the tables in the science lab. A mobile of the solar system planets hung low over our heads.
Belzer wasn’t watching where he was going and smacked his head on Neptune.
“Settle down, people. Are all five schools here?” Mr. Spittup said. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.”
“Neither can I,” I muttered.
How did this happen? I glanced around the room. The other four schools all had interesting inventions with them. And my buddies and I stood there with…with…nothing.
I needed an idea. I could hear my brain plopping weakly inside my skull. PLOP…PLOP…PLOP… The inside of my head felt like a swamp this morning. No ideas could rise out of the muck.
“Good luck to everyone. Let’s start with our friends from Poly-Wannacracker,” Mr. Spittup said. “Show us your invention.”
Nicki Toros smiled and patted her machine. “This will change the sport of bubble blowing forever,” she said. “And…no more children crying when their bubbles pop. Because these bubbles can’t pop.”
Mr. Spittup nodded. “Tough bubbles,” he muttered. “Tough bubbles. I like it!”
Next, the kids from Baked Potato Chips Middle School showed off their air-driven elevator. “You just blow into this pipe, and the elevator car goes up one hundred floors.”
“Well done,” Mr. Spittup said. “Very clever. Very clever.” He breathed into the pipe, and we all watched the elevator rise.
“Next let’s hear from our friends here at Preppy Prep Prep. What did you bring us?”
A tall, skinny blond boy stepped forward, bobbing his head. “Yo, yo,” he said. “Yo. We’ll take first prize now if you’d like to save some time, yo.”
Everyone laughed.
Mr. Spittup squinted at their invention. “It looks like a paper airplane,” he said.
“Yo, it is a paper airplane,” the kid replied.
“It’s radio-controlled, yo. It can fly across the ocean if the wind is right,” he said. “Yo.”
“I’m impressed,” Spittup said. “And what is the paper airplane made of?”
“Paper,” the kid answered. “Yo.”
Spittup rubbed his chin. “Interesting…”
Was I next? My throat felt tight. My hands started to shake. My brain was gurgling and plopping. I had nothing. NOTHING.
“Our fourth school is the Whussup School,” Spittup announced. “Whussup with you guys? Ha-ha.”
I let out a sigh of relief. I still had a few seconds to dream up something.
Spittup moved to the Whussup table. “What did you invent?” he asked.
A cute girl with a long, brown ponytail and brown glasses held up some kind of brush. “Our invention is a new kind of toothbrush,” she said. “See? It has a brush at both ends. This way, you can brush both sides of your mouth at once.”
“Ouch!” I shouted because Crench elbowed me in the ribs.
“They stole my idea!” he whispered. “I knew it was an awesome idea!”
No time to answer Crench. Spittup was smiling at us now and walking over to our table. “And now, last but not least, let’s see what our Rotten School friends have brought us,” he said. I gulped. I gulped again. I choked for a minute or two. Stalling. Stalling…
“Well…” I said.
I could hear my swampy brain going PLOP…PLOP…PLOP.
Chapter 18
AN INSTANT WINNER
“I know you Rotten School guys have come up with something clever,” Mr. Spittup said. “Please share it with us.”
I cleared my throat. “Well…uh…”
I gritted my teeth, trying to get the great Bernie B. brain unswamped. Come on, Bernie, you can fake it. You can always fake it!
I took a deep breath. “We’ve been inspired by your school, sir,” I started. “Uh…Being here has helped us to clear our minds and think deeply about our invention.”
Sweat poured down my face. My knees knocked together. How long could I stall?
“Just show us your invention,” Spittup said.
“Yes, our invention,” I said. “You’ve been so kind to us. We want to show you our very best work. Uh…We put many hours of thought and labor into our invention…”
I glanced over at Feenman. He was stressed, too. He had a clump of dust the size of a softball in one hand. He was pulling at it, stretching it out.
“This is our invention,” I said. I grabbed the dust ball from Feenman and held it high so everyone could see it. “You know how little kids like to make dust bunnies? Well, we call our invention Instant Dust. See? You can model it into any kind of animal you want.”
I twisted the dust ball int
o a little bunny.
Some kids oohed and aahed. My three buddies grinned proudly, as if they’d been working on the invention for weeks.
“Clever. Very clever,” Mr. Spittup said. He took the dust from me and twisted it around for a few minutes. “Look! I made a cat!”
He handed it back to me. “Very clever,” he said again. “Instant Dust. I don’t know how you ever came up with that.”
“Just pure brainpower, sir,” I said. I mopped the sweat off my face with a shirtsleeve.
Mr. Spittup paced back and forth in front of us. “I knew I’d have a tough time judging today,” he said. “I’m sorry that only four schools can go on to the finals tomorrow. And we will sadly have to say good-bye to one school today.”
He walked around from table to table. “Let me check out your inventions one more time,” he said.
He worked the bubble machine and made some beautiful plastic bubbles. He blew into the pipe and sent the elevator shooting up.
At the PPP table, he fiddled with the radio controls and sent the paper airplane flying back and forth across the science lab. Then he picked up the clump of dust from my hand and squeezed it a few times. “Clever,” he muttered. “Totally clever.”
Finally he tested the two-sided toothbrush. He pushed it into his mouth and moved it up and down. After a few seconds, he started to scream:
It took everyone awhile to realize the toothbrush was stuck in his mouth. Finally two kids rushed forward and pulled with all their might.
The brush flew out with a spray of blood. Mr. Spittup’s gums were bleeding and his lip was cut.
Mr. Spittup mopped his mouth with a wad of tissues. “I think I know which school will be heading home,” he said. “You kids with the stupid toothbrush from Whussup School. Whussup with you? You’re outta here! Go pack your bags!”
We kids from the other four schools all cheered and jumped up and down and slapped high fives and touched knuckles. I watched the Whussup kids slump out of the room with their heads down.
I shook my head. “They just didn’t have a good idea,” I told my buddies. “Not like us.”
I held up the dust clump—but a gust of wind from an open window blew it away. “Belzer,” I said, “collect more dust. We’ve got a winner here!”
“Who invented dust?” Belzer asked. “That’s a good invention! You see it everywhere!”
I patted Belzer on the head. “Take it easy, Belzer,” I said. “Just get a nice big hunk of dust for the finals tomorrow.”
I hurried to the door.
“Bernie, where are you going?” Crench called. “Don’t you want to celebrate our victory?”
“No time,” I said. “Feldspar Pyrite invited me to a croquet game. I think he might want to make a little friendly bet on it. That’s how I’m gonna celebrate. I’m gonna take his money!”
“But, Bernie—” Crench called. “Have you ever played croquet in your life?”
“How hard could it be?” I said. “You hit something with something—right? Easy!”
Little did I realize I was about to be punk’d and skunked in a big way!
Chapter 19
A CROQUET LESSON
I found the Croquet Lawn just past the Rose Garden. The ground was flat, and the grass was cut short. The silver wickets gleamed in the bright sunshine.
No one was here yet. I picked up a wooden mallet and did a few practice swings. “Go easy on them, Bernie,” I told myself. “I’ll give them a little lesson in how the game is played. But I won’t be mean and run up a big score.”
I leaned forward and swung the mallet hard.
I accidentally smacked it into my ankle. Pain shot up my leg.
I was still hopping on one foot when Feldspar, Alli, and Corky appeared.
“Bernie, are you okay?” Alli asked.
I hopped a few more times, rubbing my ankle. “Just doing my warm-up exercises,” I said. “Gotta be loose for this game—right?”
Alli checked her clipboard. “I have ten minutes and forty-two seconds to play,” she said. “So let’s get started.” She picked up a mallet and stepped up to the first pole.
Feldspar flashed me an evil smile. “Bernie, what do you say? How about a dollar a wicket?”
I liked this kid. He was tricky. But I like tricky.
I grinned back at him. “I hate taking your money,” I said. “But maybe I can give you a few pointers in this game.”
His grin grew wider. “You don’t stand a chance,” he said. “I’ve been playing croquet since I was a baby. Before I learned to walk, I had to butt the ball with my little baby head.”
Was he serious?
“Pigges have been playing this game for two hundred years,” Corky said. “We helped to invent the mallet. Before mallets, no one could figure out how to hit the ball.”
These kids were tough when it came to croquet. But I knew I had something on my side—the Bernie Bridges luck. I couldn’t lose!
We all shook hands. The bet was on.
Alli was about to swing her mallet. But Corky grabbed her arm. “Let Bernie go first,” he said. “He’s our guest.”
Corky set down a bright blue ball for me. Then he backed away quickly.
Everyone backed away. They were giving me plenty of room. I guessed they wanted a good view of a master player. They were staring hard.
I didn’t want to disappoint them. I tapped the ball a few times. Then I gave it a hard wallop and—
Chapter 20
A RULE AGAINST NAKED BUTTS?
The blast sent me staggering backward. I felt my hair fly up on my head. My arms flew up, and I started flapping them like a bird.
I staggered in circles. The sound of the explosion rang in my ears. And when I finally stopped teetering and tottering and looked down, my clothes were gone!
I stood there on the grass in my underpants!
Dizzy, I spun around—and saw the three Prepsters laughing their heads off. They were slapping high fives and touching knuckles. And pointing at the tatters of my clothes on the grass.
“Ha-ha. Funny,” I choked out. My voice cracked. My knees wobbled. My ears still rang.
“We didn’t tell you about Corky’s hobby,” Feldspar said. “He likes to blow things up.”
“Nothing personal,” Alli said. “He does it to everyone.”
“Th-that’s the LAST thing I’d expect Corky to d-do,” I stammered.
Corky smiled and stuck his little nose in the air. “Pigges have been blowing things up for two hundred years,” he said proudly. “We helped invent dynamite. Before that, people had to shout BANG at each other!”
“Well, thanks for the game,” I said. “You guys are real good sports.”
Punk’d and skunked AGAIN!
On the tennis court, kids stopped to stare at me in my underpants. And I heard kids laughing from the Rose Garden.
I turned and started to jog to the dorm—and ran right into Headmaster Snute.
His eyes bulged, his mouth shot open, and he made a gurgling sound. He dropped his fishing rod and pointed at me. “Aren’t you one of those Rotten School kids?” he asked. “Why are you dressed like that?”
Think fast, Bernie. Think fast.
“Uh…well…I’m just working on a new invention, sir,” I said. “Testing the elastic on these underpants. Uh…if the elastic holds, I think you’ll be amazed at what we can do.”
He stared at me for a long time. “I hope the elastic holds, too,” he said finally. “We don’t allow naked butts at Preppy Prep Prep. Read the rule book. It’s on page one.”
He picked up his fishing rod. “There’s a fish tank in the library,” he said. “I’m going fishing for angel-fish. Ever try to catch one? They put up a good fight.”
“Good luck, sir,” I said. I turned and ran to the dorm. I ignored all the hoots and shouts and laughs from the kids I passed.
Luckily, the elastic on my underpants held……almost until I reached the dorm.
Chapter 21
&n
bsp; SWEET!
Kids sat in a wide circle on the lawn to watch the Make-a-Great-Invention Contest. White, puffy clouds floated across the sky. Robins twittered in the trees. Butterflies fluttered over the Rose Garden.
I have to admit I had butterflies, too. In my stomach. Yes, I know. Bernie B. never gets stressed. But let me tell you, I was a little nervous today.
I had a big clump of dust in my backpack. Next to me were the Poly-Wannacracker dudes with the plastic bubble-blowing machine. Then the PPP guys with the radio-controlled paper airplane. Down at the end stood the Baked Potato Chips kids with their amazing human-breath elevator.
How could I win with a hunk of dust? Even Bernie the Great was stressed to the max.
Alli Katz and Corky Pigge came by. They both wished me good luck. Corky winked at me for some reason, and flashed me a thumbs-up. What was that about?
Mr. Snute stepped up to the microphone. “Before I introduce the judges,” he said, “I want to show you all something.” He held up a wooden plaque. I could see a small fish shellacked onto the front of the plaque.
“Here is the goldfish I caught last week,” he announced. “Biggest goldfish I ever nabbed—almost two inches long! This one is going up in my living room!”
He set the plaque down carefully. Then he turned back to the microphone. “We have four wonderful inventions competing for the five-thousand-dollar prize,” he announced.
I pulled the dust clump from my backpack and smoothed it out. Would it work this time? Did I have a winner here?
“I’d like to introduce the judges,” Mr. Snute said. “First of all—”
Those were the only words he got out.
A deafening roar dropped me to the ground. The earth shook. A thick cloud of white smoke covered everyone.
Coughing and choking, still on my hands and knees, I opened my eyes and gazed at the sky. It was RAINING INVENTIONS!
