by Bill Myers
“Why today?” she asked as they headed up the sidewalk toward the gymnasium. “I don’t get it.”
“Oh, you will.” Tuna gave a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid you’ll understand in a very big way.”
She opened the gym doors and came to a stop. Before her were rows and rows of science projects. Of course there were the usual ones thrown together by last-minute slackers. Like the experiment with a giant hammer and a huge crate of tomatoes titled
HOW MANY TIMES CAN YOU HIT A TOMATO WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER BEFORE IT SPLATTERS?
RESULTS: Once (unless you’re a very bad shot).
Or the one with all the gauze and first aid cream titled
WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU HOLD YOUR HAND OVER A CANDLE FLAME FOR FIVE MINUTES?
RESULTS: You scream until you pass out.
But there were plenty of other experiments asking questions only the super-spoiled and super-rich could have. Like the project with the recording of a barking dog. Its title was
WHICH DESIGNER JEWELRY MAKES POODLES THE HAPPIEST?
RESULTS: Whatever has the most diamonds.
Or the project with a giant pile of ash in a wheelbarrow titled
DO $50 BILLS BURN FASTER THAN $100 BILLS?
RESULTS: After several hundred tries, results are undetermined.
“TJ!” a voice called. “Over here!”
She turned to see Doug standing in the section especially set aside for inventions. At his feet was Killer, the mechanical kitten.
TJ waved and headed to join them. As she approached, she saw other inventions that only the super-spoiled and super-rich could dream up:
THE AUTOMATIC HAND RAISER
Stop the bother of raising your hand in class!
Simply press a button and it automatically pops up for you.
(Batteries not included)
or
AUTOMATIC CATALOG ORDERER
Never bother having to decide what to buy from expensive catalogs again.
Just press SELECT ALL and this device will order everything!
TJ arrived and bent down to scoop up the purring kitten. The little thing was cuter than ever. She glanced around the gym. “Looks like we’ve got some pretty stiff competition,” she said.
Suddenly a bright light blazed from the far corner of the gym.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Doug pushed up his glasses and sniffed. “I’ll give you one guess. Come on.”
They crossed the gym to investigate. Along the way, they passed other rich-kid inventions like
GIANT MIRROR SURFBOARD
Check out your do while checking out the waves!
and more experiments like
WHICH CAVIAR DO HAMSTERS LIKE BEST?
RESULTS: The most expensive you can find.
At last they arrived to see Hesper Breakahart holding another press conference under the bright lights. Chad stood silently beside her, just as uncomfortable as ever. And between them, on a control panel, was their skinny little mouse, Wendell. The poor critter had something strapped to his head that looked like a miniature flashlight.
They listened as Hesper spoke to the crowd.
“What we did was attach a laser to the side of cute little Wendell’s head. So wherever he looks, he can fire a laser beam.”
“That’s in-credible, Hes-per,” a bald reporter said. (His acting was as bad as Mr. Beaker’s.)
“Yes.” She nodded. “I think so.”
“Where did you come up with such an incredible ide-a?”
“Oh, I just wanted to help our brave soldiers overseas.” She flashed a brand-new smile with brand-new false teeth. “Of course, the hardest part was all the work Chad and I had to do to build this laser. Isn’t that right, Chad?”
Chad’s gaze landed on TJ, and he hesitated.
“Isn’t that right, Chad?” Before he could answer, Hesper held out her hand with a pout. “I mean, I almost broke a nail. See.”
The crowd sighed in sympathy.
Chad looked down in embarrassment.
The reporter asked, “So may we have a demonstra-tion?”
“Why, certainly.” She looked over to Chad. “Chad, sweetie?”
Without a word, he obediently picked up Wendell.
Hesper reached for the control panel. “All I have to do is press a little button labeled POWER ON.” She searched the box trying to find where her scientists put it. “Ah, here we go. I just press this little button like so, and—”
Instantly the control panel hummed to life. So did the laser strapped to Wendell’s head. It frightened the little guy so badly that he leaped out of Chad’s hands and raced across the floor.
That was the good news.
That bad news was that everywhere it jerked its little head, the laser
And I do mean everywhere.
The skylights . . .
(Which, of course, is the sound of falling glass.)
the people . . .
(Which, of course, is the sound a judge makes when his pants are set on fire.)
and
(Which, of course, is the sound a teacher makes when her wig is set on fire.)
But it wasn’t just skylights and people. Even the science fair exhibits were hit.
HOW MANY TIMES CAN YOU HIT A TOMATO WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER?
became
WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH ALL THIS KETCHUP?!
Then, the second-worst of all worsts happened. (The worst of all worsts is coming up in the next chapter.) Little Wendell the mouse spotted little Killer the kitty. And since Wendell was now a major weapon of mass destruction, the little furball went after Killer with everything he had.
Normally, this wouldn’t have been a problem. I mean it’s only a mechanical kitty, right (despite the cute pipe-cleaner whiskers)? The problem was that TJ still held Killer in her arms. And since TJ had a thing for living, she took off screaming. She ran this way and that.
Then that way and this.
She could have just set Killer down, but it’s hard remembering those types of details when you’re screaming and running for your life.
Seeing the problem, Chad took off to catch the mouse.
Meanwhile, Hesper was yelling such helpful things as, “Don’t break the laser; we want to get an A!”
“Tuna!” TJ cried. “Herby, where are you?”
“That’s our cue!” Tuna shouted from the corner where they’d been watching.
“I’m on it!” Herby yelled. He reached for his Swiss Army Knife, pulled open the blade, and fired the Morphing Beam directly at the little mouse.
Sadly, at that exact moment, Wendell turned left as Herby fired right. Sadder still, Chad didn’t.
TRANSLATION: Chad Steel just became a giant chunk of cheddar cheese.
Worse yet, he smelled like a giant chunk of cheddar cheese. Which explains why Wendell skidded to a halt, sniffed the air, and spun around. It also explains why he charged after Chad with all the hunger of a starving mouse who had only been fed a celery stick once a week.
“Stop him!” TJ shouted. “Somebody stop him!”
Herby changed knife blades and fired again. The good news was he
finally hit Wendell. The bad news was, instead of one Wendell, there were now
two.
Make that four.
“What’s going on?!” Tuna shouted.
“The Duplication Blade!” Herby yelled. “It’s stuck!”
Soon, dozens of the little mice were running around, and every one of them was
as they raced toward Chad for a major cheese feast.
TJ spun toward Hesper and shouted, “Turn off the power!”
And sweet, lovely Hesper screeched back, “I don’t know how! I didn’t make this stupid thing!”
Meanwhile, everybody in the gym was screaming, running for their lives, and busy having a heart attack or two.
Everyone but Doug.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Worst of all Worsts
TIME TRAVEL LOG:
>
Malibu, California, October 14—supplemental
Begin Transmission:
Oops . . .
End Transmission
“Augh!”
Doug ripped down the giant mirror surfboard and raced toward the circle of Wendells that were closing in on Chad. TJ couldn’t believe her eyes. It was like he was a superhero the way he leaped into the center of things.
Of course they began firing at him, but each time they
their lasers, he blocked the beams with the surfboard. Not only blocked them but used the mirror to reflect the beams right back at them, which explains the
of him blowing up the little critters and sending them to that big cheese fondue party in the sky.
(Actually, he didn’t kill them; he just made them unconscious in an I don’t think they’ll be waking up anytime soon kind of way.)
In fact, he was doing such a good job that it looked like the catastrophe would soon be over . . . except for the part of Tuna and Herby wanting to help.
“Quick!” Tuna shouted. “Employ the Enlarge-o Beam!”
“What?” Herby yelled.
“On the kitten. Increase its size so it will attack the mice.”
“Good thinking,” Herby said. He pulled out what looked like a paper clip and pointed it at Killer, who was still in TJ’s arms.
This time she was smart enough to drop the mechanical kitten.
Unfortunately, Herby wasn’t smart enough to use the right setting. Instead of the usual 4.5 setting for NORMAL BIG, he cranked it all the way up to 9.5 for ULTRA BIG! A beam shot from the paper clip with yet another strange
sound until, suddenly, Killer was twice her size.
Better make that four times her size.
All right, she just kept getting bigger, okay? In fact, before you could say, “Will these guys ever learn?” Killer was the size of a semitruck (without the cool mud flaps and air horn).
And she wanted to play.
Unfortunately there were no balls of yarn or chew toys. But there were plenty of chew bleachers . . . chew science projects . . . and a chew news reporter.
Carefully, the reporter backed away from her. “Nice kitty-kitty,” he said.
nice kitty-kitty roared. Then she took a playful swat at him. Well, playful for her. For him, it was more like a giant battering ram that
knocked him completely across the gym.
TJ spun around to Tuna and shouted, “Do something!”
But Tuna was too busy shouting at Herby, who was too busy fumbling with the paper clip.
“The Acme Thought Broadcaster!” Herby yelled. “We’ll talk with her mind through the Acme Thought Broadcaster!”
“She’s a robot!” Tuna shouted. “She doesn’t have a mind!”
But Herby wasn’t about to be confused with facts. He reached for the ballpoint pen and fired the eerie blue beam. Unfortunately, he missed the cat and hit Doug’s mirror surfboard. Not a problem, except it reflected off the surfboard and landed squarely on Hesper Breakahart. Suddenly they heard, “Oh, my hair, I think it’s out of place, is my nose too shiny, I think my lips are drying, where’s that stupid makeup lady with the hairy armpits . . . ?”
Now, for those of you keeping track, we have:
—one hysterical TV star
—one chunk of Chad Cheddar Cheese
—one hero using a mirror surfboard to fight off
—a bunch of mice with laser beams strapped to their heads
—and one very cute mechanical kitty on a not-very-cute mechanical rampage
And now you can add that the room was filled with a loud
“Oh no,” TJ groaned, “what do we have now, a giant dog?”
But it wasn’t a dog. It was Naomi Simpletwirp!
She stood next to the
WHICH DESIGNER JEWELRY MAKES POODLES THE HAPPIEST?
exhibit. She held the news reporter’s microphone and had shoved it right next to the speaker with the recording of the barking poodle. Moments before, she had used all her geeky AV skills to wire the sound into the school’s intercom system. And now, every room and every hallway in the school was filled with its barking.
The mechanical kitten froze in fear. She looked this way and that. But the barking came from every direction. Filled with terror, she turned and bolted for the nearest door, which was about three sizes too
small.
Poor Killer the kitty went to pieces . . . literally. Broken gears and steel girders flew in all directions. Wherever you looked, pieces of the robot were raining down. Soon the gym was covered in junk. (Almost as bad as little Dorie’s room. Well, not quite, but you get the picture.)
All of this as Doug
the last of the Wendells with the reflected beam . . . and Herby was finally able to morph Chad back into
a 1976 Ford pickup. Er,
a giant wad of used chewing gum. No,
a very confused (but still great-looking) neighbor, who had the faint aroma of dairy products.
Unbelievable. But at last, it had come to an end. Everything began to settle down and return to normal. Well, everything except Hesper Breakahart . . .
“I hate this science fair, I hate this school, everyone’s such a loser, wait a minute, is that me, how can people hear what I’m thinking, no way, they’re too stupid to know what I really think about their pathetic little lives—”
That’s right. The Acme Thought Broadcaster Beam was stuck, and all of Hesper’s thoughts were being broadcast through the school.
“And now I’m going to have to talk all nicey nicey to that ignorant Mr. Beaker to make sure he gives me an A, talk about a lamebrain, can you believe he actually likes Coach Steroidson, I mean if she was any uglier they’d have to buy her a dog license—”
“Tuna!” TJ hissed. “Herby! Fix it!”
“We’re trying!” Herby said as he began
the pen on the floor.
Meanwhile, Doug and Chad stared at each other, completely confused.
“What just happened?” Chad asked.
“I’m . . . not certain,” Doug said, pushing up his glasses.
They both turned to TJ, who tried to smile. Then they looked over to Naomi, who stood by the speaker still holding the microphone.
“I’m sorry about your science project,” Naomi called over to Doug. “But I had to do something to stop it.”
“No,” Doug sniffed, “you were . . . That was great.”
She gave an embarrassed shrug. “Just your average AV stuff.”
“No, that was . . .” Doug approached her. He was definitely impressed. “That was incredible. I had no idea you could do those types of things.”
Naomi’s face reddened and she looked down, giving another shrug.
“You want to show me how you did it?” he asked. “I mean, that was really (sniff) cool. Really, really cool.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah?”
He smiled back. “Yeah.”
TJ watched them and also had to smile. Talk about the perfect couple.
“Hey, you okay?”
She turned to see Chad walking up to her.
“Yeah,” she sort of croaked. “How ’bout you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It was like I fell asleep and had another one of those strange dreams.”
Meanwhile, Hesper’s thoughts continued to echo through the school: “Chad, you stupid boy toy, why are you talking to that ugly new girl, you know I own you, I can have any boy I want in this lame-o school ’cause they’re all so stupid, so get over here and start waiting on me hand and foot—”
TJ threw a look to Chad, who appeared anything but happy.
But Hesper was already cranking up her smile to the news reporter who’d been cowering in the corner. “And you ignorant newspeople, if you had any idea what I really think of you and how I manipulate you to get whatever I want just because I’m incredibly beautiful and popular and—”
Chad shook his head. “Weird. Very, very weird.�
�
TJ nodded. “Yeah.”
They spotted Doug and Naomi starting to pick up broken pieces of the mechanical kitten.
“You guys need a hand?” Chad called.
But the couple was so busy talking and gawking at each other, they didn’t hear.
Chad gave a chuckle. So did TJ. And then, together, without a word, they started to help.
All of this as TJ’s invisible pals continued another in-depth discussion:
“You’ve really zworked this up, dude. Now we’re in total quod-quod.”
“It is certainly not my fault our tools keep shorting out.”
“It is too.”
“It is not.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“I know you are but what am I.”
