by Dan Gutman
“No,” Mr. Burke said as he looked at a shiny thing in his hand. “It’s even more valuable than gold and silver. It’s … gilver!”
“Gilver?” asked Ryan. “I never heard of gilver.”
“What’s gilver?” asked Neil the nude kid.
“Gilver is a combination of gold ’n’ silver,” Mr. Burke said excitedly.
“Yee-ha!” shouted Mr. Macky. “It’s more valuable than gold. It’s more valuable than silver. It’s gilver!”
“Gilver!!”
“GILVER!!!”
In case you were wondering, all the teachers were shouting “Gilver.”
“This place is filled with the stuff!” said Mr. Burke. “It’s a bonanza!”
“We hit pay dirt!” shouted Mr. Macky, jumping up and down and clicking his heels together. “There must be millions of dollars’ worth of gilver down here!”
“Billions!” shouted Miss Small.
“Trillions!” shouted Mr. Granite.
“Do you have any idea what this means for our school?” said Mrs. Jafee. “We can bring back the art and music programs!”
“We can buy new computers and SMART Boards for every classroom!” shouted Mrs. Yonkers.
“We can turn the water fountains back on!” shouted Ms. Leakey.
“We can buy toilet paper for the bathroom!” shouted Miss Lazar.
“Yee-ha!” the rest of the teachers shouted.
All our problems were solved.
9
The Gold Rush
The teachers filled bag after bag with gilver and carried the bags out of the hole. Mr. Burke told us not to say a word about the gilver to anybody.
But it didn’t matter. Thanks to all the yelling and shouting, word got out. Five minutes later, people with overalls and hard hats and shovels were streaming into the playground from all directions. Some of them came on dogsleds. Some were in covered wagons. I guess they rented them.
The next thing we knew, the playground was filled with tents and people making campfires, cooking vittles, and playing harmonicas. It was a real Kodak moment.
“Yee-ha!” one guy said. “Ah’m hankerin’ to git me a heap of that gilver!”
“Hey, we were here first, you no-good rascal!” said Mr. Macky. “It’s our gilver!”
“Finders keepers!” said another guy. “This is a public school, you varmint, so it’s public property.”
It looked like a fight was going to break out. But that’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened.
“Channel 7 News is on its way!”
“Channel 7 News is on its way!!”
“CHANNEL 7 NEWS IS ON ITS WAY!!!”
In case you were wondering, everybody was saying that Channel 7 News was on its way.
“TV? Cameras?” shrieked Andrea. “How does my hair look?”
“EEEEEEEEK! We’re going to be famous!” shrieked Emily.
Sure enough, a few minutes later a big van pulled up with CHANNEL 7 NEWS written on the side. And you’ll never believe who got out of the van.
It was Mrs. Lilly, this reporter who helped us make a newspaper about our school!
Some guys from the news van set up the equipment, and Mrs. Lilly stood next to Mr. Burke.
“This is Mrs. Lilly, of Channel 7 News,” she said into a microphone. “I’m reporting live from Ella Mentry School, where gilver—a rare combination of gold and silver—has been found in the playground. With me is Mr. Burke, the school grounds-keeper. You were the one who discovered the gilver, Mr. Burke. Tell me, how do you feel right now?”
“Ah feel like Ah could eat corn on the cob through a picket fence,” Mr. Burke said.
“I beg your pardon?” asked Mrs. Lilly.
“What Ah mean is, right now Ah could just about hit a bull’s backside with a handful of banjos.”
“I’m sorry; I don’t understand,” said Mrs. Lilly.
“All Ah’m saying is, Ah feel like Ah could bluff a buzzard off a meat wagon right now.”
“Huh?” said Mrs. Lilly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“What’s a matter, ma’am?” asked Mr. Burke. “Don’tcha speak English?”
Mrs. Lilly was going to ask Mr. Burke more questions, but you’ll never believe in a million hundred years who came running in front of the camera at that moment.
I’m not gonna tell you.
Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to read the next chapter first. So nah-nah-nah boo-boo on you.
10
Violins Are Bad for Children
It was Mayor Hubble!
He grabbed the microphone from Mrs. Lilly. His secret service agents shoved Mr. Burke away from the camera.
“I’m happy to announce,” said the mayor, “that all the gold and gilver found on school property belongs to the city. We will use it to balance the budget blah blah blah blah create new jobs blah blah blah blah fix the roads blah blah blah blah cut taxes blah blah blah blah this great country blah blah blah blah and furthermore blah blah blah blah how long is this going to go on blah blah blah blah wake me up when it’s over blah blah blah blah…”
He yammered on for about a million hundred hours. I thought I was gonna die of old age.
“In conclusion,” the mayor finally said, “vote for me on Election Day. Thank you.”
Mrs. Lilly and the Channel 7 guys turned off their camera, packed up their gear, and drove away.
“Okay, the show’s over,” said Mayor Hubble. “Everybody go home now. I’ll take care of this gilver. And all you teachers, get back to class! You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
The secret service agents started to load the bags of gold and gilver into the trunk of Mayor Hubble’s limo.
The teachers were sad. They had worked really hard to dig up the gold and gilver. Now Mayor Hubble was taking it away. We wouldn’t be able to fix up the school. We wouldn’t be able to bring back the art and music programs. We wouldn’t have any toilet paper.
Bummer in the summer! This was the worst thing to happen since TV Turnoff Week.
We all started walking back into school. That’s when the most amazing thing in the history of the world happened. In the distance, at the other end of the playground, a tall, mysterious stranger appeared. He was walking toward us in slow motion.
And he was bald.
It was Mr. Klutz!
“Mr. Klutz!”
“Mr. Klutz!!”
“MR. KLUTZ!!!”
In case you were wondering, everybody was shouting “Mr. Klutz.” He stopped about twenty feet from Mayor Hubble.
“Klutz!” said the mayor. “What in blazes are you doing here?”
“They let me out of principal camp early,” said Mr. Klutz. “The jig is up, Mayor. Give us back that gold and gilver. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“Who’s gonna make me?” the mayor asked.
“Ooooooooooooooooo!” everybody said.
“Ah reckon Ah am,” said Mr. Klutz. “Because yer gettin’ too big fer yer britches.”
“Ooooooooooooooooo!”
“Smile when you say that,” said the mayor.
Mayor Hubble looked at Mr. Klutz. Mr. Klutz looked at Mayor Hubble. All the kids and teachers were looking at Mr. Klutz and Mayor Hubble. Nobody was saying anything. A tumbleweed rolled by.
“That gilver belongs to mah teachers and mah school,” said Mr. Klutz. “Ah reckon you’re tryin’ to steal it and keep it for yourself.”
“Yer lyin’ like a rug, Klutz,” said Mayor Hubble.
“And yer so crooked, you could swallow nails and spit out corkscrews,” said Mr. Klutz. “Just give back the gilver and nobody gets hurt.”
“Nothin’ doin’,” said the mayor. “Ah’m afraid this playground ain’t big enough fer the both of us, Klutz.”
“Ooooooooooooooooo!”
“Then Ah’m gonna have to give you a whuppin’ you’ll never forget, Mayor,” said Mr. Klutz, “’cause you’re a bad egg.”
“Ooooooooooooooooo!”
“Ah’m gonna kick your butt so hard, they’re gonna need a team of surgeons to remove mah boot!” said Mayor Hubble.*
“Ooooooooooooooooo!”
Mr. Klutz and Mayor Hubble were really mad. They started walking toward each other in slow motion. It looked like they were about to fight.
But you’ll never believe who ran out and stood between them.
It was Andrea Young! Little Miss Perfect! The Human Homework Machine!
“Stop!” Andrea shouted, holding up her hands. “There’s no need to resort to violence.”
“Why is everybody always talking about violins?” I asked. “Are they going to fight with musical instruments? They should fight with tubas.* That would be cool.”
“Not ‘violins’!” everybody shouted at me. “‘Violence!’”
“Oh,” I said. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Suddenly, Mr. Burke pushed his way to the front of the crowd.
“The little lady is right,” he said. “Ah say we settle this the old-fashioned way: with a duel.”
“A duel!”
“A duel!!”
“A DUEL!!!”
In case you were wondering, everybody was saying “A duel.”
“Guns are violent, Mr. Burke,” said Andrea.
“Ah ain’t talkin’ ’bout a duel with guns,” said Mr. Burke. “Ah’m talkin’ ’bout a modern duel … with cell phones!”
11
The Duel
Mr. Burke explained the rules of the duel to everybody. The mayor and Mr. Klutz would each write their cell phone number on a piece of paper and swap the papers. Then they would stand back-to-back. They would each walk ten paces forward. Then they would turn around, grab their cell phones, and dial each other’s number as fast as possible. Whichever cell phone rang first would be the loser. The other one would get to keep all the gold and gilver.
“It’s a deal,” said Mayor Hubble.
“Deal,” said Mr. Klutz. “Ah’m betting mah smartphone is smarter than yer smartphone.”
“Ah’m warnin’ ya,” said the mayor, “Ah’m purty quick on the dial.”
“No namby-pamby gilver rustler can out-dial me,” said Mr. Klutz.
Mr. Burke told Mr. Klutz and Mayor Hubble to stand back-to-back.
“Look, their butts are touching!” I whispered.
“Quiet, Arlo!” shouted Andrea.
“Ready … set… GO!” said Mr. Burke.
Mr. Klutz and Mayor Hubble started pacing away from each other.
1 … 2 … 3 … 4 … 5 … 6 … 7 … 8 … 9 … 10.
Then they both spun around.
“Fill yer hand, ya yellow-bellied phone slinger!” shouted Mr. Klutz.
Both of them grabbed the phones off their belt loops and started punching in numbers frantically. Then they pointed their phones at each other and waited for one of them to ring.
“I know what you’re thinkin’,” Mr. Klutz said. “Did you punch in seven numbers or six? Well, to tell you the truth, in all the excitement, I kinda lost track myself. But you’ve gotta ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
And then Mr. Klutz’s cell phone started playing “The Hokey Pokey.”
“Noooooooooooooooooooo!” he shouted.
“Ha-ha! Nice try, Klutz!” Mayor Hubble said, blowing on his phone. “Better luck next time. Now all the gold and gilver is mine. Adios, amigos! I must skedaddle.”
The mayor got into his limo with his secret service agents and drove away.
For a few seconds nobody said anything. We were all in shock. Then Mr. Macky stepped forward.
“Dagnabbit!” he shouted. “That scallywag done vamoosed with our gold and gilver! If ah git mah hands on him, Ah’m a-gonna stretch that no-good outlaw’s neck! Come on, fellers! We’ll head ’im off at the pass! Who’s with me?”
“No thanks,” said Mrs. Roopy. “I’ve had enough violence for the day.”
“Violence is not the answer,” said Miss Laney.*
“You can’t solve problems with violence,” said Mr. Granite.
Why is everybody always talking about violins?
“What in tarnation!” shouted Mr. Macky. “Ain’t you cowpokes gonna help me chase down that varmint?”
Mr. Burke didn’t look worried. He was leaning against the fence and picking his teeth with a toothpick.
“Hold your horses, pardner,” he said. “Let the old coot go.”
“Let him go?” asked Mr. Macky. “Why? What about the gilver?”
“Gilver?” said Mr. Burke. “Ain’t no such thing as gilver. Ah made that stuff up. Gilver is just shiny pieces of glass I scattered around the playground.”
“What about the gold?” asked Mr. Macky.
“Painted rocks,” said Mr. Burke. “They ain’t worth a plugged nickel.”
“So you planned all this, Mr. Burke?” asked Mr. Klutz. “Why?”
“Oh, Ah figgered the mayor don’t care a lick ’bout balancin’ no budget,” he said. “He just wants to get rid of stuff he don’t like: art, music, teachers, schools. So Ah planted that gold and gilver in the playground. Ah figgered it was only a matter of time before that greedy bunko artist would try to snatch it. The cops’ll pick him up soon enough.”
Well, that’s pretty much what happened. The police tracked Mayor Hubble down and took him to jail. Maybe he’ll be there for the rest of his life. Maybe we’ll raise enough money to bring back the art and music programs. Maybe all the men will shave their beards and stop saying “Yee-ha.” Maybe everybody will stop talking about violins. Maybe they’ll turn the water fountains back on and put toilet paper in the bathrooms again. Maybe we’ll get the monkey bars back from Rent-A-Monkey Bars. Maybe the teachers will get to keep the hot tub that isn’t in the teachers’ lounge. Maybe Mr. Klutz and Mr. Burke will fight on the seesaws. Maybe I’ll become a principal and toast marshmallows. Maybe cannibal zombies will come out of the Underground Railroad and eat our brains. Maybe there will be a TV channel that shows nothing but stuff being blown up all day long. Maybe they’ll be able to fill the big hole in the playground.
But it won’t be easy, pardner!
About the Authors
Dan Gutman has written many weird books for kids. He lives in New Jersey (a very weird place) with his weird wife and two weird children. You can visit him on his weird website at www.dangutman.com.
Jim Paillot lives in Arizona (another weird place) with his weird wife and two weird children. Isn’t that weird? You can visit him on his weird website at www.jimpaillot.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors and artists.
Copyright
Mr. Burke Is Berserk!
Text copyright © 2012 by Dan Gutman
Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Jim Paillot
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Gutman, Dan.
Mr. Burke is berserk! / Dan Gutman ; pictures by Jim Paillot.—1st ed.
p. cm.—(My weirder school ; #4)
ISBN 978-0-06-196923-2 (lib. bdg.)—ISBN 978-0-06-196922-5 (pbk. bdg.)
EPub Edition © JANUARY 2012 ISBN 9780062101976
[1. Buried treasure—Fiction. 2. Gold—Fiction. 3. Schools—Fiction. 4. Humorous stories.] I. Paillot, Jim, ill. II. Title.
PZ7.G9846Mom 2012
2011019377
[Fic]—dc23
CIP
AC
* * *
12 13 14 15 16 CG/BR 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
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* What are you looking down here for? The story is up there, dumbhead!
* Ha-ha, made you look down!
* No, it wasn’t Mr. Klutz. Nice try though.
* Hey, do you want to know the surprise ending to the story? Well, I’m not going to tell you. So nah-nah-nah boo-boo on you.
* Not really, but that’s what everybody says when it’s quiet. Nobody knows why.
* It’s okay to say “but,” but grown-ups get mad when you say “butt.” Nobody knows why.
* “Tuba” spelled backwards is “a but.”
* Unless the question is: Name a musical instrument with four strings.
