by Dan Gutman
Dedication
To Emma
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
1. The Big Race
2. A Seesaw Battle
3. The T Word
4. Three Little Letters
5. The Class Pencil
6. Mr. Burke Goes Berserk
7. Gold Fever
8. Gilver
9. The Gold Rush
10. Violins Are Bad for Children
11. The Duel
About the Authors
Copyright
Back Ad
About the Publisher
1
The Big Race
My name is A.J. and I hate ice cream.
Actually, that’s not true. I love ice cream. In fact, it’s one of my favorite things in the world. I was just pulling your leg there.
No, I wasn’t doing that either. If I was pulling your leg, I would actually be taking your leg and pulling on it. Why would anybody want to pull on a leg? That’s a weird thing to do.*
Speaking of weird things, last week the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened. When I got to school, our groundskeeper, Mr. Burke, was sitting out in the playground on a riding lawn mower.
Well, that’s not the weird part, because Mr. Burke sits on a riding lawn mower all the time. The weird part was that right next to him was our principal, Mr. Klutz. He was sitting on another lawn mower.
All the kids gathered around to see what was going on. I went over to my friends Ryan, Michael, Neil, and Alexia.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Mr. Klutz and Mr. Burke are going to have a lawn mower race,” said Michael, who never ties his shoes.
“The first one to reach the monkey bars wins,” said Ryan, who will eat anything, even stuff that isn’t food.
“Lawn mower races rock,” said Alexia, who is a girl but is cool anyway.
“The loser has to pay the winner a dollar,” said Neil, who we call the nude kid even though he wears clothes.
Mr. Klutz and Mr. Burke revved the motors of their lawn mowers and glared at each other.
“Get ready to lose, pardner!” shouted Mr. Burke. “Ah reckon Ah’m a-gonna give you a whuppin’ you’ll never forget.”
He talks funny. He had a toothpick in his mouth, too. What’s up with that?
“Kiss my grass!” yelled Mr. Klutz. “You’re going down, Mr. Burke!”
That’s when Andrea Young, this annoying girl with curly brown hair, came over. She was with her equally annoying cry-baby friend Emily.
“Hi, Arlo!” said Andrea. She calls me by my real name because she knows I don’t like it.
I didn’t say hello to Andrea because I knew the guys would start teasing me and saying I was in love with her.
“They shouldn’t have dangerous races and gamble on school property,” Andrea told us. “It sets a bad example for children.”
“I agree,” said Emily, who agrees with everything Andrea says.
“Can you possibly be more boring?” asked Alexia.
Andrea stuck out her tongue at Alexia. Alexia stuck out her tongue at Andrea. Emily stuck out her tongue at Alexia. Alexia stuck out her tongue at Emily.
Whenever somebody says something mean to you, always stick out your tongue at them. That’s the first rule of being a kid.
“I’m not boring,” Andrea said. “I just don’t like violence.”
“What do you have against violins?” I asked.
Everybody laughed even though I didn’t say anything funny.
“Not violins, Arlo!” Andrea said, rolling her eyes. “Violence!”
Oh. Why can’t a truckload of violins fall on Andrea’s head?
Our gym teacher, Miss Small, came running out in front of the lawn mowers. She was carrying a big flag.
“On your mark,” she yelled, “get set… GO!”
She waved the flag. Mr. Klutz and Mr. Burke took off.*
2
A Seesaw Battle
The lawn mower race was hilarious, because lawn mowers go really slow. I mean, I can walk faster than those things. It was like watching a turtle race. But it was still exciting, and everybody was yelling and screaming.
“Put the pedal to the metal, Mr. Klutz!”
“You can beat him, Mr. Burke!”
We all walked alongside the lawn mowers so we could see who was winning. First Mr. Klutz took the lead. Then Mr. Burke took the lead. Then Mr. Klutz was ahead. Then Mr. Burke was ahead.
“This is a real seesaw battle!” shouted Ryan.
“Are they going to fight on the seesaws?” I asked. “That would be cool!”
After about a million hundred minutes, the lawn mowers reached the other end of the playground. Mr. Burke jumped off and touched the monkey bars first.
“Yee-ha!” he shouted. “Ah’m a-grinnin’ like a weasel in a henhouse.”
Mr. Klutz gave Mr. Burke a dollar. All the excitement was over, and we had to go into school to start the day. Bummer in the summer!
“Mr. Burke is weird,” I said as we walked to class.
“Remember the time he grew a corn maze on the soccer field?” asked Neil.
“Remember the time he mowed big circles in the grass and told us they were made by UFOs?” asked Michael.
“Maybe Mr. Burke isn’t really a grounds-keeper at all,” I said. “Maybe he kidnapped the real groundskeeper and locked him in the equipment shed where he keeps the lawn mowers. Stuff like that happens all the time, you know.”
“Stop trying to scare Emily,” said Andrea.
“I’m scared!” said Emily.
“Mr. Burke probably escaped from a loony bin,” said Ryan.
“Yeah,” I said. “He probably snatches kids during recess and buries them under the monkey bars.”
“We’ve got to do something!” Emily shouted. Then she started freaking out and went running down the hallway.
Sheesh, get a grip! That girl will fall for anything.
3
The T Word
The rest of us walked to class with our teacher, Mr. Granite, who is from another planet. After we put our backpacks into our cubbies and pledged the allegiance, it was time for math. But you’ll never believe who poked his head into the door at that moment.
Nobody! Poking your head into a door would hurt. But you’ll never believe who poked his head into the doorway.
It was Mr. Klutz!
“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” asked Mr. Granite.
That’s grown-up talk for “What are you doing here?”
“Remember when I went to principal camp last year?” he said. “Well, I have to go again. I just wanted to say good-bye.”
“Bye!” we all said.
Principal camp sounds cool. I’ll bet the principals sit around a campfire and toast marshmallows. Maybe I’ll be a principal when I grow up so I can go to camp and eat toasted marshmallows.
After Mr. Klutz left, Mr. Granite went to the front of the room.
“It’s time for math,” he said. “Turn to page twenty-three in your—”
But he didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, because at that moment an announcement came over the loudspeaker.
“All classes please report to the all-purpose room immediately.”
“Not again!” moaned Mr. Granite.
“Yay, no math!” I yelled.
We had to walk a million hundred miles to the all-purpose room. Along the way, we saw our art teacher, Ms. Hannah, and our music teacher, Mr. Loring. They were each pulling a rolling suitcase.
“Why did you bring suitcases to school?” Ryan asked them.
“We take them with us wherever we go,” said Ms. Hannah,
“because you never know when you’re going to get fired.”
“We like to be ready,” added Mr. Loring.
Ms. Hannah and Mr. Loring are weird.
In the all-purpose room our class got to sit in the front row. But I had to sit next to annoying Andrea. Ugh, disgusting! I made sure not to let my elbow touch her elbow on the armrest so I wouldn’t catch her girl germs.
The vice principal, Mrs. Jafee, was on the stage. She held up her hand and made a peace sign, which means “shut up.”
“I’ll be in charge while Mr. Klutz is gone,” she told us. “We have a special guest who would like to speak with us today. How about a big round of applause for Mayor Hubble?”
We all clapped our hands in circles. Mayor Hubble came down the aisle with two secret service agents behind him. He was smiling, passing out buttons that said REELECT MAYOR HUBBLE, and shaking hands with everybody.
It would be cool to be the mayor. He’s like the king of the town. My friend Billy who lives around the corner told me that Mayor Hubble has a limo, and a big throne at city hall. Guys carry the mayor around in a chair, and girls in bikinis feed him grapes.
Mayor Hubble climbed up on the stage.
“I have bad news,” he announced. “The town is broke. The government has cut off all our money, but we still have to balance the budget.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Does this mean you’re going to raise taxes?” asked Ms. Jafee.
“Taxes?!”
Mayor Hubble suddenly groaned, grabbed his chest, and dropped to his knees. It looked like he was gonna die.
One of his secret service agents rushed over to help the mayor. The other one leaned over to talk to Mrs. Jafee.
“Never say the T word in front of the mayor,” he told her.
Mayor Hubble leaned into the microphone.
“I will not raise taxes!” he shouted. “I’m going to lower taxes!”
“If we don’t have enough money,” asked Mrs. Jafee, “shouldn’t you raise, uh, the T word?”
“Read my lips,” Mayor Hubble shouted at her. “No new taxes!”
“Why do we need to read your lips?” I asked. “You’re talking.”
“That’s just an expression, Arlo,” Andrea told me, rolling her eyes.
“I don’t understand,” said Mrs. Jafee. “How can we get the money to balance the budget if you don’t raise … the T word?”
“I have an idea,” said Mrs. Roopy, our media specialist. “We could have a car wash. We could raise the money, balance the budget, and have fun all at the same time!”
“Yeah!” everybody shouted excitedly.
“No!” said Mayor Hubble.
“How about a bake sale?” asked Miss Laney, our speech teacher. “People love to buy cookies and cakes.”
“No!” said Mayor Hubble.
“A raffle?” suggested our reading specialist, Mr. Macky.
“No!” said Mayor Hubble.
“Why not just close down the school?” I suggested. “That would save money. Then we could stay home and play video games all day.”
All the kids cheered at my genius idea.
“No!” said Mayor Hubble. “There’s only one way to balance the budget. I can tell you with just three little letters.”
4
Three Little Letters
The three little letters were C-U-T.
“Cuts!” Mayor Hubble shouted into the microphone. “We need to cut the amount of money we spend so we can balance the budget!”
Just saying the word “cut” seemed to make Mayor Hubble’s eyes light up with excitement. He had a crazy look on his face, the kind of look that evil geniuses in the movies have when they explain how they’re going to take over the world.
“The first things we’re going to cut,” Mayor Hubble told us, “are the art and music programs.”
“So long,” said Ms. Hannah, taking her rolling suitcase. “I’m outta here.”
“Right behind you,” said Mr. Loring.
“But we love art and music!” one of the kids shouted.
“You kids are here to learn,” said the mayor, “not to sit around drawing pictures and singing silly songs. That’s just a big waste of money.”
Everybody looked really sad when Ms. Hannah and Mr. Loring walked out of the all-purpose room.
“The next things we need to cut are school supplies,” said Mayor Hubble. “So from now on we’re going to stop buying glue sticks, rulers, erasers, tape, and markers. You can have one pencil per classroom.”
“That’s off the wall!” yelled Miss Small.
“Oh, stop whining,” said Mayor Hubble. “This will improve everyone’s schoolwork. If the students only have one pencil, they’ll make fewer mistakes.”
“What about crayons?” asked Miss Holly, our Spanish teacher.
“No more crayons,” said Mayor Hubble. “You can melt down candles and make them into crayons. That will save us a lot of money.”
“That’s loopy!” yelled Mrs. Roopy.
The mayor pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket to remind him of the other things he was going to cut.
“Starting today,” he announced, “I’m turning off the water fountains in the hallways. Do you know what the biggest waste of water in the world is? Water fountains! The water just shoots right out of them!”
“That’s bizarre!” yelled Miss Lazar, our custodian.
“Oh, give me a break,” Mayor Hubble said. “It’s not like people need water to live or anything. And I know you kids just go to the water fountain when you don’t want to sit in class. You’re not fooling anybody.”
Well, he was right about that.
“That’s daffy!” yelled Mrs. Jafee.
“From now on,” the mayor continued, “there will be no more toilet paper in the bathrooms. That stuff costs way too much money.”
“You’re getting rid of the toilet paper?” shouted Alexia. “What are we supposed to use?”
“Post-it Notes,” said the mayor.
“That’s loony!” yelled Mrs. Cooney, the school nurse. “And disgusting!”
“From now on the teachers will have their pay cut in half,” the mayor continued. “You teachers make way too much money.”
Teachers get paid? That was a new one on me. I thought they just came to school every day because they had no place else to go.
“But we hardly make any money as it is!” yelled Mrs. Yonkers, our computer teacher.
“What do you teach?” Mayor Hubble asked Mrs. Yonkers.
“I’m the computer teacher.”
“Well, you’re fired,” said the mayor. “I’m replacing you with a computer. A computer should be able to teach a computer class much better than a human being anyway. And computers don’t whine and complain like people do.”
“He’s off his rocker!” yelled Mr. Docker, our science teacher.
“You crybaby teachers should be thankful you have jobs at all,” said the mayor. “Oh, and I want the coffee machine and the hot tub removed from the teachers’ lounge.”
“We don’t have a hot tub in the teachers’ lounge,” said Mrs. Jafee.
“You don’t?” said the mayor. “Hmmm. Then put a hot tub in the teachers’ lounge and then take it out. We have no money to spend on silly things like hot tubs for teachers.”
“He’s loco!” said Ms. Coco, the gifted and talented teacher.
Mayor Hubble was getting more and more excited as he talked about all the cuts he was going to make.
“After we get rid of the hot tub in the teachers’ lounge,” he said, “get rid of the tables and chairs in there and sell them on eBay.”
“Do you expect the teachers to sit on the floor?” asked Mr. Granite.
“Yes!” said Mayor Hubble. “It will be like a picnic every day. You like picnics, don’t you? Who doesn’t like a picnic?”
“He’s gone mad!” said Dr. Brad, the school counselor.
“Come to think of it,” said th
e mayor, “why do you teachers need a lounge anyway? You don’t have time for lounging around in hot tubs and having picnics. This is a school, not some beach resort.”
“But we don’t have a hot tub!” yelled Miss Laney, our speech teacher.
“Not anymore you won’t,” said the mayor. “Not after I get rid of the one we’re putting in. All these cuts will help us balance the budget. And when the voters see how much money I saved, they’ll vote to reelect me in November.”
“Are you going to take a pay cut too?” asked Mrs. Jafee.
“Don’t be silly,” said Mayor Hubble. “I’m giving myself a raise for coming up with these great ideas to save money.”
“That makes no sense!” yelled Officer Spence, our security guard. “We need pencils and glue sticks and water fountains and toilet paper. We need tables and chairs. We need all those things that you’re going to cut.”
“Yeah!” shouted all the teachers.
“If Mr. Klutz was here, he would never allow any of this,” said Mr. Granite.
“That’s right!” shouted the teachers.
“Well, Mr. Klutz isn’t here, is he?” asked Mayor Hubble. “He’s at principal camp.”
Everybody was really mad. And you’ll never believe who poked his head into the door at that moment.
Nobody! Poking your head into doors is dumb. I thought we went over that in the last chapter.
But you’ll never believe who poked his head into the doorway.*
It was Mr. Burke, the groundskeeper!
“Ah mowed the lawn,” said Mr. Burke.
“Ah trimmed the bushes. Ah been busier than a one-armed man hangin’ wallpaper, and Ah am plum tuckered out. What do you want me to do next?”
“Next?” asked Mayor Hubble. “The next thing you can do is go home. There’s no money in the budget for a groundskeeper anymore. So you’re fired. Have a nice day.”
I think that was the moment when Mr. Burke went berserk.
5
The Class Pencil
