The Barftastic Life of Louie Burger

by Jenny Meyerhoff

  “Your dad is really talented,” she says, wandering through the miniforest of artwork on my driveway. There are mailbox stands, birdbaths, flower sculptures, scrap-metal birdhouses, a picnic table with no benches, a clock with no hands, candlesticks that don’t match, and a bunch of different animal sculptures.

  My dad used to have so much fun on the weekends. He never finished any of his projects, but he never worried about that. He cared more about making the art than the finished piece.

  “What’s going on here?” My dad comes outside with lemonade for me and Thermos. “I’ve never heard of kids cleaning out a garage for entertainment.”

  “Look at all your stuff, Dad.”

  “I forgot about these,” he says, walking over to a bunch of birdhouse clocks. “And these.” He runs his hand over the mailboxes.

  “You should finish them,” I tell him.

  My dad studies me for a long time. “I’m going to start looking for a part-time job, Louie. But you’re right. I could finish this stuff. Now that the garage is cleaned out, it’ll be the perfect space for me to work in on the weekends.”

  I admire the empty garage. It is a great space. Now that it’s clean, my mind can’t help imagining what my stage would look like in there. My curtain could go against the back wall. And in front, there would be enough room to build a small set of bleachers. It would be the perfect place to rehearse, and to perform. For actual people.

  I put my arm around my dad’s waist. “Maybe we could share the garage.”

  Fluff Dictionary

  Fluffabulous (adj.): better than fabulous.

  Fluffcakes (n.): a pancake-and-Marshmallow-Fluff sandwich. The breakfast of fluffkids.

  Fluffergy (n.): extra-super-high energy. You need a lot of fluffergy to play with Nick and Thermos.

  Fluffernutter (n.): peanut butter and Marshmallow Fluff on white bread. The best sandwich in the world.

  Fluffkids (n.): superfunny, supercool, and superinteresting kids. They might like sports and they might like comedy, but they love having fun.

  Flufflarious (adj.): as funny as a Marshmallow Fluff pie in the face.

  Flufflicious (adj.): the special delicious taste food gets when you add Marshmallow Fluff.

  Flufftastic (adj.): amazing times fantastic plus Marshmallow Fluff. Squared.

  THAT’S ALL, FOLKS!

  So now that I have two best friends and an awesome new comedy club in my garage, fifth grade is almost back to perfect. I say almost, because my hero project was a bust. It’s been two weeks, and everyone has gotten a letter back from his or her hero but me. Nick and Thermos both got signed pictures from Kenji Okada and Owen got Twinkie coupons. He wrote his letter to Hostess because his hero isn’t alive anymore.

  I should have chosen Archibald Query. At least I might have gotten free Fluff.

  Lou’s silence is such a bummer that I’m not even excited for the special Friday edition of male-bonding time my dad and I planned for tonight. He’s letting me stay up late to watch Lou Lafferman’s Laff Nite at its real time. He’s been in a much better mood since he took a part-time job at Spiral Fine Arts Supply.

  * * *

  At 9:30, the doorbell rings. I’m in the kitchen unloading groceries. Dad took me shopping to buy ingredients for ice cream sundaes. Frozen yogurt is not a male-bonding-time snack so we got real ice cream, and tons of toppings, too—enough for about a hundred sundaes.

  “Louie,” my dad says, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited some other people to join us tonight.”

  I bite my bottom lip. Male-bonding time is a two-person activity. You can’t invite other people to join in.

  “I must have a banana in my ear,” I say, pretending to pull it out. “I don’t think I heard that correctly.”

  “Well,” he says, walking out of the kitchen and waving for me to follow him. “I thought it would be nice to include your mom, Ariella, and Ruby.”

  I am about to let him have it, because what he’s describing is family-bonding time, and I already have plenty of that! But then my dad opens the front door.

  “… and Nick and Henry and Theodora,” he says.

  “Thermos,” says Thermos, as she walks through the door.

  “Right. Thermos,” Dad repeats. “And Danny.”

  Henry is wearing his Superman cape and his pajamas. And Nick and Thermos have sleeping bags. I’m not even going to talk about Danny. It’s too disgusting that my sister has a boyfriend. The only good part is that he’s a boy. Also, he’s a magician, so we have the whole performing thing in common. He told me he’s jealous of my garage. I might rent it out to him.

  I don’t get what’s going on. Why would my dad invite so many people to male-bonding time? I try to ask him, but he shoos us away so he can get everything set up for the viewing.

  Nick, Thermos, and I sit down in my empty closet to play Don’t Make Me Laugh. It’s a board game. You have to do crazy things to try to crack your opponents up. The other players have to try to keep a straight face.

  “I’ve never seen Lou Lafferman before,” says Thermos.

  I cannot believe it. Thermos is lucky she’s friends with me. First Fluffernutters and now Lou Lafferman. I’m introducing her to all the finer things in life.

  “You’ll love it,” I say. “He’s like me, only grown-up!”

  My dad calls to us right as we finish the game. Thermos wins. She can flip her nostrils inside out. Flufftastic!

  “Showtime!”

  We race into the family room. Dad sets up TV trays with our sundae orders. I dig into chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles, maraschino cherries, and extra Marshmallow Fluff!

  Everybody finds a seat and Dad flips on the TV. Lou Lafferman’s about to begin, and Ruby starts making a racket. Even though I’m glad Nick and Thermos are here, I almost wish my dad and I were alone. I don’t want Ruby to ask questions the whole time and laugh at the wrong parts.

  “I don’t want ice cream,” she says. “I want popcorn with mustard.”

  “I’m not a restaurant,” says my dad.

  “I should get whatever snack I want!” Ruby shouts. “I’m the one who ta—”

  “Shhh!” Ariella kicks Ruby in the shin.

  My mom gives Ruby a warning look and pretends to zip her lips.

  “Well I think I deserve a reward,” says Ruby, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I still want popcorn.”

  The opening credits roll, and Dad turns the volume up. Lou walks out from behind the silver curtain and does a hysterical bit on toast. After the monologue, he walks over to his desk and the giant TV screen behind him pops up.

  “We’ve got viewer videos for you tonight, folks,” says Lou. “And this first one comes from a kid after my own heart. He’s a young comedian named Lou. Unfortunately, he takes his act a little too seriously! Let’s watch this clip of his fifth-grade talent show performance.”

  My heart pounds. I look around the room, and my parents beam at me. I pinch my arm. I must be dreaming.

  “No way!” says Nick.

  “I thought you didn’t send it,” says Thermos.

  “Shhh!” I say as the clip starts to roll. I’m standing on the gymnasium stage singing “The Burp Song.” My hand goes to my mouth, and then …

  Up it comes.

  Remembering that night makes my stomach shiver. I watch myself hurl a second time. Even though they blurred the actual throw-up, I think it is fair to say I’ve officially puked in front of 3.4 million people.

  “Let’s see that once more, folks,” says Lou. The video rewinds, and everyone watches me barf again.

  “You know, kid, they sell fake barf nowadays! It’s not even that expensive. Get a paper route and you won’t have to make it yourself anymore. But seriously”—Lou looks directly into the camera, as though he’s talking only to me—“you’ve got a real future in comedy. I bet we’ll see you on this stage one day. Bring your own cleaning service. We’ll be right back, friends.” Lou waves at the camera and the scr
een fades to a Denture-Fresh commercial.

  “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!” I scream. I jump up and down on the sofa. Nick and Thermos do, too. “I was on Lou! I was on Lou! I was on Lou!”

  My dad stands up and says, “Jump on the floor, please. Off the furniture.”

  I leap off the couch, but I don’t stop bouncing, even though I bang my knee and stub my toe on the coffee table. “I can’t help it. I was on Lou Lafferman. But I don’t understand how.”

  Ari stares at the ground. She won’t make eye contact with me.

  No way. “You sent it?” I ask her.

  “Well, it was my idea. Dad figured out the right people to send it to. Ruby helped us write the letter.”

  “And I made the video of your throw-up,” Ruby says, puffing out her chest. “I told you it was good enough to send.”

  “I think you guys are the best sisters in the world,” I say, hugging them. “Though I may change my mind about that tomorrow.”

  “And what am I?” says Dad. “Mr. Nobody?”

  I give him a hug.

  “Ahem,” says my mom.

  I hug her, too, but do I have to hug everyone? I look at Nick, Thermos, Henry, and Danny, and shake my head. I believe the expression that applies is: Not gonna happen.

  “Let’s watch it again,” says Thermos.

  My dad rewinds the show. Thank goodness we have every episode automatically set to be recorded. We watch me barf again.

  As of tonight, fifth grade is turning out to be even better than perfect. It’s fluffmazing with a side of flufftastic! Sometimes it pays to be a barfburger.

  So there you have it, girlzillas and gentlemonkeys. (That’s my new closer.)

  The book is over. You can stop reading now.

  Really. Stop.

  Um, I believe the expression that applies here is: That’s all, folks!

  End of story.

  Elvis has left the building.

  There’s a theme here, get it?

  This is

  THE END.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Janine O’Malley and the amazing team who worked on this book with me.

  To my wonderful family, Tigay side and Meyerhoff side, your love and support mean everything.

  To Brenda Ferber, Carol Grannick, and Ellen Reagan, the critique group that midwived this book, our Mondays kept me sane and, more important, happy.

  To Stephen Roxburgh, your insight and generosity saved the day.

  To Jennifer Mattson, without you there would be no “fun factor.”

  Farrar Straus Giroux Books for Young Readers

  175 Fifth Avenue, New York 10010

  Text copyright © 2013 by Jenny Meyerhoff

  Pictures copyright © 2013 by Jason Week

  All rights reserved

  First hardcover edition, 2013

  eBook edition, June 2013

  mackids.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Meyerhoff, Jenny.

  The barftastic life of Louie Burger / Jenny Meyerhoff; pictures by Jason Week. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: With a school Talent Bonanza coming up, there is only one thing that can keep fifth-grader Louie Burger from taking a big step toward his dream of becoming a world-famous comedian—extreme stage fright.

  ISBN 978-0-374-30518-5 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-0-374-30519-2 (e-book)

  [1. Comedians—Fiction. 2. Stage fright—Fiction. 3. Family life—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction. 6. Talent shows—Fiction. 7. Humorous stories.] I. Week, Jason, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.M571753Bar 2013

  [Fic]—dc23

  2012029524

  eISBN 9780374305192

  *Just make sure your backpack is filled with something soft, like a winter coat, when you play this game. Otherwise your friend might hit you someplace private with a pair of gym shoes in his bag and you’ll have to walk the rest of the way home looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Not that that actually happened. Really.