by Nancy Krulik
As the kids headed into the school, George gave Alex a funny look. “You got pretty quiet out there,” he told Alex.
“I was thinking,” Alex said.
“About what?” George asked.
“An idea I had,” Alex replied mysteriously. “I’ll tell you all about it—as soon as I have everything figured out.”
“You want me to WHAT?” George shouted into the phone that evening.
“I want you to go back to Ernie’s Ice Cream Emporium,” Alex repeated calmly.
“No, thanks,” George said. “I’m lucky I didn’t get in trouble Sunday night when the burp burst. Right now, nobody at Ernie’s is mad at me. But I can’t guarantee what will happen if I go back there again. I haven’t always been so lucky when the burp burst out there.”
“Come on,” Alex pleaded. “Ernie’s a nice guy. And he’s gonna lose his business—but maybe not if you help him.”
“What do you mean?” George asked.
“Ernie thinks he could get a lot of customers if he started an open-mike night,” Alex explained.
“So get Mike to tell jokes,” George said. “Get Max, too.”
George was only kidding. He knew open mike was really a kind of talent show. He just didn’t want to be a part of it.
Alex laughed. “See, you’re really funny,” he said.
“Seriously. What does Ernie need me for?” George asked.
“Everyone’s talking about what happened at Ernie’s Ice Cream Emporium last night,” Alex told him. “You’ve got star power now. People will come just to see you.”
Star power? Wow. Nobody had ever called George a star before.
Besides, Alex was his best friend. This was the least George could do.
“Well,” George finally said. “I guess if you think it could bring a lot of customers into Ernie’s, I could tell a few jokes.”
“I do,” Alex assured him. “And if he gets enough customers back, maybe Farley’s Flying Floats will have to close.”
“That would be the end of those awful Louie commercials,” George thought out loud.
“Yep,” Alex agreed. “We can save Ernie’s Ice Cream Emporium and give Louie one less thing to brag about—if everything goes as planned.”
George frowned. That was a very big if.
Especially with the magical super burp still lurking around. There was no telling what might happen if that decided to burst out and be part of the show.
“Look!” George’s mother exclaimed as they walked into Ernie’s Ice Cream Emporium on Saturday night. “Your picture is on that poster, George!”
George had worried for a long time about seeing his picture on a poster. He always imagined the signs would say:
GEORGE BROWN: WANTED FOR BUBBLE TROUBLE
But this poster didn’t say anything like that. It said:
OPEN-MIKE NIGHT AT ERNIE’S ICE CREAM EMPORIUM.
DISCOVER THE BEST TALENT IN TOWN.
LIKE THIS FUNNY MAN, GEORGE BROWN!
BE PART OF THE SHOW, AND ENJOY OUR TASTY TREATS.
As George walked into the restaurant, Alex came running over. “There you are,” he said. “I thought maybe you’d chickened out.”
“I almost did,” George admitted.
“My mom saved you guys seats,” Alex said. “She’s down in front.”
“Is your mom going to let you eat ice cream tonight?” George asked Alex.
“As long as I go right into the bathroom to brush my teeth afterward,” Alex said.
George wasn’t surprised. Alex’s mom was a dentist. She was always making him brush his teeth in weird places.
“You’re on first,” Alex told him. “Are you nervous?”
“Yeah,” George admitted. “But not about telling jokes.”
“Oh,” Alex said. “You’re worried the burp will come out again, huh?”
George shook his head. “I’ve got bigger problems. My dad wants to perform.”
“What talent does he have?” Alex asked
George shook his head. “I have no idea. He says it’s a surprise.”
“Oh no,” Alex said. “A parental surprise. That’s never good.”
“I know,” George agreed. “And practically the whole fourth grade is here to see it.”
Just then, Ernie stood up in the middle of the restaurant. “Welcome to our first open-mike night,” he said. “It’s good to see all of you again.”
The crowd cheered.
George gulped.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ernie continued. “I give you our first act: George Brown, Town Clown!”
George walked up and took the microphone. “Hello, Beaver Brook!” he said, trying to sound like a real stand-up comic. He walked over to the table where Alex’s mom and his parents were sitting. “Do you know what instrument is found in the bathroom?” he asked Alex’s mom.
“No, what?” Alex’s mom wondered.
“A tuba toothpaste!” George exclaimed.
Alex’s mom laughed. “I love a good tooth joke,” she said.
George headed over to Sage and Julianna. “What do you get if you mix a parrot with a shark?”
“What?” Julianna asked.
“A bird that can chew your ear off!” George replied.
“Oh, Georgie, you’re so funny.” Sage giggled.
George turned to Chris. “What do you call a painting by a cat?” he asked him.
“I don’t know,” Chris said.
“A paw-trait!” George told him.
Chris laughed so hard, he snorted.
Everyone was laughing—and not because the burp had made George do anything goofy. Wow! George was having so much fun he didn’t want to sit down.
But eventually Ernie came and took the microphone. It was time to give someone else a turn.
Unfortunately, that someone else was George’s dad.
“What’s your talent?” Ernie asked him.
“I’m a singer,” George’s dad said.
“I didn’t know your father could sing,” Alex said.
“He can’t,” George and his mother both said at the exact same time.
George’s dad clicked an app on his phone. Music started to play. Then George’s dad began to sing—badly.
“First to fight for the right.” George’s dad’s voice cracked, but he kept singing. “And to build the nation’s might.”
“What song is this?” Alex asked George.
“The US Army’s official song. It’s pretty much the only song he knows.” George buried his head in his hands. “He sings worse than Mrs. Kelly. Can this get any more embarrassing?”
George’s dad began to march around the ice cream parlor. He saluted each table as he passed by.
“I guess it can get more embarrassing,” George groaned.
A group of kids got up out of their seats.
“Oh man, he’s chasing away the customers,” George groaned.
Except, the kids didn’t leave. They started marching behind George’s dad. And the few that knew the words started singing, too.
Wow! The kids didn’t think George’s dad was weird. They thought he was cool. Which George had to admit he was—at least as cool as a grown-up could be, anyway.
“If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” George said. He leaped out of his chair to join the marchers.
“Count off,” George’s dad sang.
“Hup, two, three, four,” George counted loudly.
As he marched past the outdoor tables, George glanced across the street. The mayor and his wife were walking into Farley’s Flying Floats with a bunch of other important-looking people.
Bummer.
Getting rid of Ernie’s competition wasn’t going to be as easy as he and Alex had hoped. It would take a whole army of cu
stomers to beat out Mr. Farley and his rich, fancy friends.
Still, George knew Alex wasn’t going to give up. That was just the kind of kid he was. So George wasn’t going to give up, either.
“And we’ll fight with all our might,” George sang out loudly. “As the army keeps rolling along.”
“Do you think Ernie will be able to stay in business after last night?” George asked Alex as the boys walked along Main Street the next morning. They were on the way to George’s mom’s craft store, the Knit Wit, to take a tie-dyeing class.
“I don’t know,” Alex admitted. “It depends on if all those people will come back over and over again.”
“I just hope he doesn’t do another open-mike night,” George said. “Some of those acts were pretty bad.”
“I still can’t believe my mom actually got up and showed everyone the correct way to floss.” Alex groaned. “That was really embarrassing.”
“I can’t argue with you there,” George agreed sympathetically. He looked up. “Hey! What’s that crane doing in front of Farley’s Flying Floats?”
“I have no idea,” Alex replied. “Let’s go check it out.”
The boys reached the ice cream parlor just in time to see the F in Farley’s being taken down by the crane.
“Stay out of the way, boys,” a workman said. “Those letters are heavy.”
“Why are you taking the letters down?” Alex asked.
“This place is going out of business,” the workman told him.
“Wow!” George exclaimed. “Ernie only had one open-mike night, and already Mr. Farley realized he’d lost all his customers.”
“That’s not why,” the workman told him. “One of those drones spilled a malt on the mayor’s wife’s head. Knocked her wig clear off. Now the mayor’s banned drones on Main Street.”
“No drones, no flying floats,” Alex said.
The workman nodded.
“I don’t think Mr. Farley would pay waiters to serve ice cream,” Alex continued. “He’s too cheap.”
“I guess Ernie didn’t need an open-mike night to drive Farley’s out of business,” George said. “What a waste of time.”
“It wasn’t a waste,” Alex told him. “You got through a whole night of making people laugh without a single burp.”
“That’s true,” George agreed. “I’ve been burp-free for almost two whole days. Maybe the super burp’s finally moved on.”
“I hope so.” Alex glanced down at his watch. “We better move on. We don’t want to be late for your mom’s class.”
George took one more look at the sign over Farley’s Flying Floats. Only now it said RLEY’S FLYING FLOATS. The F and A were already gone.
Now, if only the magical super burp would stay fa, fa away. Then everything would be perfect.
“This is a very expensive white T-shirt,” Louie told George and the other kids while they waited for the tie-dyeing class to begin. “But my mother said I could dye it. We can always buy me another one.”
George stared at Louie’s expensive T-shirt. It didn’t look any different than the one his mother had gotten him at the dollar store.
“Georgie, you were so funny last night,” Sage said, ignoring Louie completely.
“Hilarious,” Julianna agreed.
“I laughed so hard I snorted,” Chris added.
“I heard you,” George said with a grin. “Everyone heard you.”
Chris laughed—and snorted—again.
“Okay, kids,” George’s mom called out. “Let’s get started. I’m going to show you how to wrap your rubber bands around your shirts. Then we can dunk them in those big vats of dye. We have lots of great colors—red, yellow, green . . .”
Bing-bong. Ping-pong.
George’s mom was still talking, but George couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. He couldn’t concentrate on anything except—
Cling-clang. Fling-flang.
The magical super burp! It was back. And it was going crazy.
The bubbles ricocheted off George’s ribcage.
They charged through his chest.
They ganged up on his gums. And then . . .
The bubbles burst right out of him.
“Dude, no!” Alex whispered.
Dude, yes! The burp had escaped. And now George had to do whatever the burp wanted him to do.
And what the burp wanted to do was go barefoot. So the next thing George knew, he was kicking off his shoes and throwing off his socks.
“George!” his mother exclaimed. “Put your shoes back on!”
George wanted to put his shoes back on. But the burp had other plans.
“This little piggy went to market,” George said, pulling on his big toe. “This little piggy stayed home. This . . .”
Louie pinched his nose. “Your feet stink like smelly cheese,” he told George.
“Little piggy had none,” George continued. “And this little piggy—”
When George reached the last little piggy, he ran, ran, ran . . . all the way to a big vat of purple dye. Then he jumped right in.
Purple dye splashed everywhere.
“Splish, splash, I’m taking a bath!” George shouted, rubbing purple dye under his pits like he was taking a shower. “Rub a dub du—”
Pop! Suddenly, George felt something burst in the bottom of his belly. All the air rushed out of him.
The magical super burp was gone.
But George was still there—standing in a vat of purple dye.
“Look at this mess!” George’s mother exclaimed. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
George opened his mouth to say, “I’m sorry.” And that’s exactly what came out.
“I don’t know why you do things like this,” his mom said with a sigh.
George climbed out of the vat of dye. He started heading toward the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” his mother asked him.
“To wash my feet off,” George replied.
“Don’t bother,” his mom told him. “The dye is going to have to wear off. And that could take a while.”
“You mean I’m stuck with purple piggies—er—I mean, toes?” George asked.
“For now,” his mother said. “I’m just glad I put newspaper down on the floor. This could have been worse.”
George looked at his feet. Worse? He couldn’t imagine how. Purple toes were about as bad as it got.
“You know, Georgie,” Sage said, batting her eyelashes up and down. “Purple is my favorite color. I like your little piggies.”
Oh brother.
Louie laughed. “I love when she calls him Georgie,” he told Max and Mike.
George groaned.
Alex gave George an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’m not giving up on finding a cure. A good detective never gives up on a tough case.”
And neither does a good friend, George thought. He sure was lucky to have a friend like Alex.
Especially since he had one more favor to ask of him.
“Maybe while you’re at it, you could find a way to get rid of Louie, too,” George asked Alex. “He’s as big of a pain as a super burp.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly fair.
The super burp definitely caused George a lot of trouble. And if his purple toes were an indication, it wasn’t mellowing at all.
Still, there had been that one amazing night at Ernie’s when the burp had helped George make people laugh—and nothing bad had happened.
And there was always the possibility it might happen again. So maybe the burp wasn’t all bad.
But nothing good ever happened when Louie was around. He was just rotten.
And George didn’t think there was any possibility that would ever change.
“Actual
ly, Louie’s worse than the magical super burp,” George corrected himself. “And that’s really saying something.”
Nancy Krulik is the author of more than 150 books for children and young adults, including three New York Times Best Sellers and the popular Katie Kazoo, Switcheroo books. She lives in New York City with her family, and many of George Brown’s escapades are based on things her own kids have done. (No one delivers a good burp quite like Nancy’s son, Ian!) Nancy’s favorite thing to do is laugh, which comes in pretty handy when you’re trying to write funny books! You can follow Nancy on Twitter: @NancyKrulik.
Aaron Blecha was raised by a school of giant squid in Wisconsin and now lives with his family by the south English seaside. He works as an artist designing funny characters and illustrating humorous books, including the one you’re holding. You can enjoy more of his weird creations at www.monstersquid.com.
What’s next on
your reading list?
Discover your next
great read!
* * *
Get personalized book picks and up-to-date news about this author.
Sign up now.
