by R. L. Stine
Rotten School
The Good the Bad and the Every Slimy
R. L. Stine
Illustrations by Trip Park
For Hampton
–TP
Contents
Map
Morning Announcements
1. A Brand-New Bernie
2. Our Mystery Science Experiment
3. “She’s Not My Girlfriend!”
4. The Magic Moment
5. April-May Says Yes
6. Belzer Has a Problem
7. My Good Deed
8. Crushed
9. Sherman Shows Off
10. Crushed, Part Two
11. Jennifer Attacks
12. My First Night as a Bookworm
13. How I Impressed April-May
14. I’m Tense
15. I’m Hot!
16. The Double-Smart Quiz Bowl
17. Billy the Brain
18. A Champion Slug
19. The Good, the Bad and the Very Slimy
20. Bernie Thinks Fast
21. The Old Garden Hose Trick
22. Victory!
23. Mrs. Heinie Steps In
24. Could It Get Any Worse?
About the Author
Other Books by Rotten School Series
Copyright
About the Publisher
Map
MORNING ANNOUNCEMENTS
Good morning, Rotten Students. This is Headmaster Upchuck with your Morning Announcements, which I read over the loudspeaker every morning at this time.
If you are absent today, I’m sorry you are missing these announcements. And I don’t really know why I’m talking to you since you’re not here.
For those of you who are here, I hope you will stop your insane jabbering and listen carefully. And Have a Rotten Day….
Congratulations to Mr. Boring’s fifth-grade Science class for proving beyond a doubt that cats cannot float.
The Sixth-Grade Photography Club would like to apologize to Mrs. Lintpocket, dorm mother of Nyce House, for the candid photos they took through her window, titled, Woman in the Shower.
Congratulations to Coach Bunz and our Rotten Apples softball team for three straight games without an injury.
The Saturday afternoon cake sale has been canceled because some thoughtless person played a joke and switched the cake flour with cement…. Please be careful, students. We are sorry to announce that the new skating rink is unsafe—because it was built with cake flour.
Important Warning: Those bottles stolen from Nurse Hanley’s office yesterday are not apple juice. They are urine samples.
Nurse Hanley would also like to remind all students that the No Drinking from the Tropical Fish Aquarium rule will be strictly enforced.
Mrs. Heinie would like to remind fourth graders that it is book report time. Please remember that books in the Rotten School book series cannot be used for book reports. Those books should not be brought to school.
Chef Baloney is working his magic in the kitchen again. The menu for tonight’s dinner in the dining hall will feature Squid Loaf in a hearty Saliva Sauce.
Chapter 1
A BRAND-NEW BERNIE
You are probably wondering why I—Bernie Bridges—decided to change my behavior, change my personality, and become a whole new kid.
A new Bernie Bridges! It’s a frightening thought—isn’t it?
Especially since the old Bernie Bridges was perfect!
Well, the new Bernie Bridges had to be even perfecter. You’ll see why….
Don’t get me wrong. I think life is great here at the Rotten School. I think all kids should go to boarding school and live away from home.
My buddies and I live in an old house at the back of the campus, called Rotten House. No parents! It’s a terrific life.
Of course, we do have some problems with those goody-goody kids who live in the dorm across from us. It’s called Nyce House. What kind of geek would live in a place called Nyce House?
But, I’m getting away from my story. And I know you’re very eager to hear my story—since it’s all about me.…
It started one night after dinner in the Student Center. That’s where my guys and I go every night to shoot some pool, play video games, and hang out.
I was hurrying to the game room. Tuesday night is slug race night, and I was late. I had Sluggo, my racing slug, wrapped up safely in my shirt pocket.
I carried Sluggo into the game room and started to unwrap his little velvet blanket. The guys were waiting around the pool table.
I saw my pals Feenman and Crench standing behind me. They were holding up signs to cheer us on.
“Hey, Bernie, you’re late,” Feenman cried.
“No problem,” I said, rolling my big slug around in my hand. “Sluggo is feeling strong tonight. And fast. Aren’t you, Sluggo?”
He oozed a warm liquid into my hand. I guess he was trying to answer me.
That spoiled brat, Sherman Oaks—my arch-enemy—grinned across the table at me. He was petting a fat, silvery slug.
He had his buddies from the Nyce House dorm with him.
The big, beefy hulk, Joe Sweety, leaned over the table, putting his slug through its warm-up exercises. Wes Updood stood next to him, tossing his slug up in the air and catching it.
My friend Beast flashed me a thumbs-up. Beast is very big and very hairy. He grunts a lot, and sometimes he walks on all fours. But we’re pretty sure he’s human. (At least 80 percent human.)
Nosebleed, another kid from my dorm, leaned against the wall with his head tilted back, trying to stop a nosebleed.
I set Sluggo down on the table and started to give him a rubdown. We all train our own slugs. We race them from one end of the pool table to the other. Sometimes the slugs forget they are in a race. So we poke them with toothpicks to keep them moving. (They don’t seem to mind.)
I turned to Sherman. “Sluggo has won five races in a row,” I said. “He’s going to leave your new slug in his slime trail.”
Sherman shook his perfect, wavy blond hair. “I don’t think so, Bernie. I brought a secret weapon tonight.”
He plopped a white paper bag on the table—and pulled out a big hunk of raw meat. “Hamburger,” he said. “It’s gone rotten. See? It’s turning green and purple. My slug, Godzilla, loves it. I put the spoiled meat at the end of the table. And Godzilla races his heart out to get to it.”
“Yuck! It STINKS!” Feenman and Crench both cried. They covered their noses. “It’s covered with MAGGOTS! Get it out of here!”
“This is top-grade sirloin,” Sherman bragged. “Nothing but the best rotten meat for Godzilla.”
I shook my head. “Sluggo still wins,” I said. “He’s a vegetarian. He doesn’t care about rotten meat.”
I lined Sluggo up at the edge of the table. The big guy was eager to race. “Put up your money, dudes,” I said. We each bet five dollars. It’s winner-take-all—and we know who the winner will be!
Sherman plopped the pukey hunk of beef at the far end of the pool table. Then he placed his fat slug next to mine. Now all six slugs were lined up.
“Ready…,” I called out. “Set…”
The game room door burst open.
We all spun around.
There stood Mrs. Heinie, our teacher, hands on her hips, her eyes bulging in horror behind those two-inch-thick glasses she wears.
“What on earth are you boys doing?” she shrieked.
Chapter 2
OUR MYSTERY SCIENCE EXPERIMENT
I tucked Sluggo into my shirt pocket. The other guys grabbed their slugs and shoved them out of sight.
“You look wonderful tonight, Mrs. H.,” I said. I flashed her my
big smile with the adorable dimples. “Is that a new scarf?”
“Cut the flattery, Bernie,” she said. “I’m not wearing a scarf. My neck is wrinkled.”
“It suits you!” I cried. “We didn’t know it was you, Mrs. H. We thought it was a movie star.”
Mrs. Heinie is our fourth-grade teacher. And she’s our dorm mother at Rotten House. That means her job is to snoop and spy on us and keep us from having fun.
She sniffed the air and groaned. “What’s that awful smell? Are you going to tell me what you boys are doing in here?”
Think fast, Bernie. Think fast.
I grabbed the pile of rotting meat and held it up to her. “It’s for Science class,” I said.
The other guys all nodded. “Yeah. Science class.”
She squinted at us behind the thick glasses. “Go on. Explain.”
“Well…,” I started. “Mr. Boring, our science teacher, does a unit called Mysteries of Science. And we’re…uh…doing our Mysteries of Science homework.”
“Homework?” she said, studying us one by one. “That’s a disgusting piece of rotting hamburger. How is that your homework?”
“We don’t know,” I said. “It’s a mystery.”
“Yeah. It’s a Mystery of Science,” Feenman said. He pulled off a chunk of meat and pretended to study it.
“We don’t really know what we’re studying,” I said. “Mr. Boring doesn’t know, either. It’s all a Mystery of Science.”
I passed out hunks of the disgusting raw meat to the other guys. “Check it out, dudes. Make sure you get a piece with maggots crawling on it. Mr. Boring said that’s very important.”
Mrs. Heinie rolled her eyes. “Nice try,” she said.
I don’t think she believed us.
She waved a finger at me. “Bernie, I’m watching you,” she said. “That’s a warning. I’m keeping my eye on you.”
She turned and hurried away, holding her nose.
I waited till she was out of sight. Then I dropped the putrid hamburger on the floor. “Let’s get outta here,” I said. “I—I can’t breathe. It stinks so bad!”
Sherman held up his slug. “What about the race?”
“Next Tuesday,” I said. “Give the smell a chance to go away.”
Holding my breath, I started to leave. Everyone came running out—except for Beast. I saw him picking up all the hunks of green, rotting meat—and eating them.
Chapter 3
“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!”
Out in the hall, I turned to my friends Feenman and Crench. “What do you dudes want to do now?” I asked.
Feenman stood there giggling.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
He pointed into the game room. “Your girlfriend is in there.”
“Huh? My girlfriend? What are you talking about?”
I peeked inside the room. Jennifer Ecch was smiling at me and throwing big, smoochy kisses.
I groaned. I grabbed my stomach. “Big, smoochy kisses? I’m going to be sick.”
How to describe Jennifer Ecch?
She’s a foot taller than everyone in school, and twice as wide. She’s big and strong. When she walks on the grass, she leaves footprints four inches deep in the ground!
Nightmare Girl.
That’s what I call her.
And she’s totally in love with me. She calls me Sweet Cakes, and makes loud kissy noises every time she sees me.
How embarrassing is that?
Crench tapped my shoulder. “Good luck, Big B. Jennifer Ecch is telling everyone you invited her to the dance.”
I couldn’t speak. My jaw sank to my knees. I grabbed it and pushed it back up to my chin. “Dance? What dance?” I cried.
“The dance party here at the Student Center,” Crench said. “Jennifer Ecch is bragging that you begged her to be your date.”
“Huh? I’d rather have my nose pierced with a screwdriver!” I cried.
Crench fell on the floor giggling.
Feenman slapped my shoulder. He was giggling, too. “Looks like you’re trapped, Big B.”
“No way,” I said. I turned and saw April-May June in the game room. I guess the hamburger smell cleared up. She was starting a Ping-Pong game with another girl from her dorm.
April-May June. My true love! The hottest, most beautiful, most stuck-up-for-good-reason girl at the whole Rotten School.
April-May was my real girlfriend. Except she didn’t know it yet.
“Don’t worry, dudes,” I said. “I’ll put an end to this Jennifer Ecch thing right away.”
Chapter 4
THE MAGIC MOMENT
April-May June zigzagged behind the Ping-Pong table, batting the ball over the net. Her blond ponytail swung behind her. Her friend Sharonda Davis had a wicked serve.
I stepped up to the table and caught the ball in midair. “Time out!” I cried. “You two play like champions! Didn’t I see you two playing in the championship on ESPN?”
April-May stuck out her hand. “Bernie, give us back the ball,” she said.
“You two are awesome. Awesome!” I said, flashing my dimples at April-May. “I see you’ve worked up a sweat.”
I pulled out a tissue and started mopping April-May’s forehead.
She rolled her eyes. “Bernie, give us back the ball.”
“Do you play Ping-Pong?” Sharonda asked me.
“Well, yes,” I replied. “But my backhand was outlawed because no one could return it.”
Both girls laughed.
“I’d show you,” I said. “But I have to speak privately to April-May.” I tugged her away from the table.
She stuck out her hand. “Bernie. The ball.”
“I know you want to ask me to the dance party,” I said. “But you’re too shy, right?”
“Bernie—the ball.” She made a grab for it, but I swung it out of her reach.
“It’s okay to be shy,” I said. “Don’t be nervous. The answer is yes. I’ll go with you.”
“Bernie—the ball,” she said.
I held the Ping-Pong ball out in front of her. “So the answer is yes? You’ll go with me?”
“No way,” she replied.
“Is that a maybe?” I asked.
“Are we going to play or what?” Sharonda called, banging the table with her paddle.
Totally rude.
“No way I’ll go with you,” April-May said. “You’re a troublemaker. I can’t go to the dance with a troublemaker.”
I gasped. “Huh? Are you kidding? A troublemaker? Me? I haven’t been in trouble since”—I checked my watch—“since four o’clock.”
April-May shook her head. “Sorry, Bernie. You don’t care about school. All you think about is yourself—and making money money money off everyone.”
April-May’s blue eyes gazed at me coldly, like two frozen lakes. “I need someone I can rely on. Like Sherman Oaks.”
Yuccch!
“You can’t go to a dance party with that rich, spoiled brat!” I cried. “His wallet is so fat, he can’t move his leg!”
“Sherman stays out of trouble,” April-May said. “And he gets good grades. And he’s filthy rich. No offense, but you’re just a loser, Bernie. You’re gonna be kicked out of school any day now. I know Mrs. Heinie is watching you carefully.”
I staggered back, grabbing my chest. “Me? A l-l-loser? I never heard that word. Loser? Did you just make that word up?”
“Give me the ball, Bernie.” She stuck out her hand.
“Tell you what…,” I said.
Tell you what. With those three words, I changed my whole life. That’s when it started. That was the magic moment when the new Bernie was born!
Chapter 5
APRIL-MAY SAYS YES
“Tell you what,” I said again. “What if I become the best student in school?”
April-May yawned. “Ha.”
“What if I become the best, most straight-arrow student on campus?”
April-May rolled her eye
s. “Ha-ha doubled.”
“And what if I stay out of trouble for a whole week?” I cried.
“Ha-ha squared,” she replied. “Fat chance, Bernie. What if I flap my arms and fly to Miami?”
Sharonda laughed. She had a cold sense of humor.
“It’s Tuesday night,” I said. “What if I don’t break any rules and stay out of trouble till next Monday night?”
Oh, wait. What about the slug race?
No problem. The next slug race wasn’t until Tuesday. I could do it. I could be good until next Monday night. It wouldn’t be easy, but I could try.
“I’m serious,” I told April-May. “What if I stay out of trouble for a whole week—and I am a better student than Sherman?”
“Okay. Sure,” she said, grinning at Sharonda. “You do that, Bernie. And I’ll go to the dance party with you.”
“Awesome!” I cried.
To celebrate, I tossed the Ping-Pong ball up to the ceiling and then caught it in my teeth. But I was so excited, I swallowed it.
Gulp. I felt it slide down my throat.
Both girls glared at me. “Give us the ball, Bernie.”
I shrugged. “Sorry. You’ll have to wait a few days for it.”
Chapter 6
BELZER HAS A PROBLEM
I started to the door—but stopped when I heard a shout.
