by Dan Gutman
“No,” Ryan said. “I talk with them on the phone.”
“Next!”
It was Emily’s turn. She looked even more nervous than me.
“I would like to do a dance from The Little Mermaid,” she said.
Emily started to dance, and to tell you the truth, she wasn’t all that bad. But right in the middle, she spun around and fell down.
It’s funny when people fall down. Nobody knows why. I tried not to laugh, because it’s not nice to laugh when people fall down. And when they start crying, like Emily did, it’s not funny at all.
Mrs. Lane came up onstage and put her arm around Emily.
“You know, I fell down just like that when I was on America’s Not Stupid,” she said.
“You did?” Emily said, wiping her eyes. “What happened?”
“Everybody laughed at me,” said Mrs. Lane. “I was humiliated. And I messed up when I was on Are You Smarter Than a Turnip?, too. It’s okay to mess up. We all do it.”
Emily stopped crying. Mrs. Lane went back to her seat in the front row.
“Next!” she shouted.
Some kid came out and burped the whole alphabet in ABC order. It was gross, but also hilarious.
“Next!”
Andrea sang the “Tomorrow” song. It was totally lame.
“Next!”
Finally it was my turn. I was nervous when I climbed up on the stage.
“I would like to tell some jokes,” I said.
“Go ahead, A.J.,” said Mrs. Lane.
“Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?” I asked.
“Why?” everybody replied.
“Because it was dead!” I said.
Nobody laughed. I guess this crowd doesn’t go for dead-monkey jokes. I tried another one.
“I like to study for tests underwater,” I said. “Maybe that’s why I’m below C-level.”
Nobody laughed.
“Get it?” I asked. “C-level? Sea level?”
Maybe I should have tested my jokes out in advance. My forehead was starting to sweat.
“Thirty seconds, A.J.,” said Mrs. Lane.
“Did you know that I have holes in my underwear?” I asked. “Well, how else would I get my legs into them?”
Nobody laughed. I thought I heard the sound of crickets out in the all-purpose room.
This was terrible! Usually, all I have to do is say the word “underwear” and kids start laughing.
“Next!”
When everybody was finished, Mrs. Lane stood up and gave us a standing ovation.*
“I really loved your acts,” she said. “Y’all should rehearse as much as possible before the talent show next week. Oh, before you go, I have some news for y’all. There’s going to be a surprise guest at the talent show.”
“Did you hear that?” Andrea shouted. “There’s going to be a surprise guest at the talent show!”
“There’s going to be a surprise guest at the talent show!”
“There’s going to be a surprise guest at the talent show!”
In case you were wondering, everybody was saying there was going to be a surprise guest at the talent show.
“Who will the surprise guest be?” asked Alexia.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” said Mrs. Lane.
I love surprises, because you never know what’s going to happen. That’s why they’re called surprises.
I was sure that the surprise guest was going to be Mr. Hynde. He used to be our music teacher, but then he made a hit rap record and became famous.
“Okay, let’s call it a day,” said Mrs. Lane. “Y’all work on your acts, and I’ll see y’all at rehearsal tomorrow. Be here at four o’clock sharp.”
I showed up the next day for rehearsal at four o’clock sharp. The only problem was that Mrs. Lane wasn’t there.
“Where’s Mrs. Lane?”
“Where’s Mrs. Lane?”
“Where’s Mrs. Lane?”
In case you were wondering, everybody was asking where Mrs. Lane was.
We waited around for a million hundred minutes. Something was definitely wrong.
“I hope Mrs. Lane is okay,” said Emily, who worries about everything.
You’ll never believe who walked into the door at that moment.
Nobody! It would hurt if you walked into a door. But you’ll never believe who walked into the doorway.
It was Mr. Klutz!
“Where’s Mrs. Lane?” we all asked him.
“She’s not coming in today,” he told us. “I had to fire her.”
WHAT?
“I’m sorry to tell you this,” Mr. Klutz said, “but Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent is canceled.”
“WHAT?” everybody shouted.
“I had no idea how much money it costs to put on a show like that,” said Mr. Klutz. “We need to hire a professional lighting-and-sound company. We have to pay for extra security. We have to get a permit from city hall to keep the school open at night. We have to print up programs. And of course we have to pay Mrs. Lane. It’s all very expensive. We just don’t have that much money in the school budget.”
Bummer in the summer!
“I was just starting to get excited about the talent show,” Ryan said.
“Me too,” said Michael.
Everybody was sad. We started gathering up our stuff to go home.
“I’m sorry, kids,” Mr. Klutz said. “Maybe we’ll have a talent show next year.”
But you’ll never believe who walked into the door at that moment.
Nobody! I thought we went over that already.
Mrs. Lane came walking in the doorway. She was balancing a baseball bat on one foot at the same time as she was balancing an egg on a spoon in her mouth. It was amazing!
“I have fantastic news, y’all!” she shouted. “A company is going to sponsor Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent!”
“Yippee!” everybody shouted.
“Sponsor?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
“It means they’re going to give us the money we need to put on the show,” said Mrs. Lane.
“Yippee!” I shouted. “What company?”
“Porky’s Pork Sausages,” she told us. “I just got off the phone with the owner of the company, Mr. Porky.”
“Well, if that’s true,” said Mr. Klutz, “Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent will go on as scheduled.”
“Yippee!” everybody shouted.
“Hooray for Porky’s Pork Sausages!”
“They saved the talent show!”
“Okay,” said Mrs. Lane. “I’ll see y’all at four o’clock sharp tomorrow for rehearsal.”
I showed up for rehearsal at four o’clock sharp the next day. And guess what? Mrs. Lane wasn’t there. Again!
“Where’s Mrs. Lane?” asked Alexia.
“Where’s Mrs. Lane?” asked Neil the nude kid.
“Where’s Mrs. Lane?” asked Michael.
In case you were wondering, everybody was asking where Mrs. Lane was. But then she came in. She was jumping on a pogo stick while dribbling a basketball and playing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” on a harmonica, all at the same time. It was amazing!
“I have fantastic news!” she shouted. “Are you ready for this? Mr. Porky of Porky’s Pork Sausages just told me he’s going to put Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent on TV!”
The girls started screaming.
“EEEEEK! We’re gonna be on TV!”
“We’re gonna be on TV!”
“We’re gonna be on TV!”
In case you were wondering, all the girls were saying we were gonna be on TV.
Being on TV must be the greatest thing in the history of the world. I’ve seen people jump into pools full of mud to get on TV. I’ve seen people eat bugs to get on TV. People will do anything to get on TV.
Mr. Klutz came running in with three of the teachers: Ms. Hannah, Mrs. Roopy, and Miss Small.
“We heard Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent is going to
be on TV,” shouted Ms. Hannah, our art teacher. “Can we be in it too? I can make finger shadows of circus animals.”
“I can play the nose flute,” said Miss Small, our gym teacher.
“I can do impersonations of nursery rhyme characters,” said Mrs. Roopy, our librarian.
“Yes, teachers can participate,” said Mrs. Lane. “But there’s something I need to talk to y’all about. Mr. Porky has three demands that must be met before he agrees to put Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent on TV.”
“What are his demands?” asked Mr. Klutz.
“Well, first of all,” said Mrs. Lane, “he wants a panel of judges to decide the winner of the talent show, and he wants to be one of the judges.”
“I have no problem with that,” said Mr. Klutz. “What are his other two demands?”
“His second demand is that he wants every act in the talent show to mention Porky’s Pork Sausages at least once,” said Mrs. Lane.
“Well . . . okay, I suppose we can do that,” said Mr. Klutz. “After all, his company is sponsoring the show.”
A bunch of other grown-ups came running in: Mr. Docker, Dr. Brad, Miss Lazar, Mr. Macky, Ms. Coco, Ms. Leaky, and Mrs. Cooney.
“We heard that Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent is going to be on TV!” yelled Mr. Docker, our science teacher. “I can recite the periodic table of elements in order.”*
“I can tap dance,” said Ms. Coco, our gifted and talented teacher.
“I can throw my voice,” somebody said, but we didn’t know who it was because they threw their voice.
“Yes, y’all can be in the talent show too,” said Mrs. Lane.
“EEEEEK!” screamed our nurse, Mrs. Cooney. “I need to fix my hair.”
“Why, is it broken?” I asked.
“Hold on a minute,” said Mr. Klutz. “What is Mr. Porky’s third demand?”
“Oh yes, there’s one more thing that Mr. Porky wants before he’ll put Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent on TV,” said Mrs. Lane. “He thinks it would be more exciting if the panel of judges could hit a big gong if they don’t like an act. And if a contestant gets gonged, he or she gets thrown into a tank full of sharks.”
WHAT?! That’s got to be the dumbest idea in the history of the world!
“Is he nuts?” asked Mr. Klutz. “Mr. Porky wants to feed our students to sharks?”
“That’s bananas!” said Ms. Hannah.
“That’s loopy!” said Mrs. Roopy.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be sharks,” said Mrs. Lane. “It could be, oh, I don’t know, vultures.”
“He wants to feed our students to vultures?” asked Mr. Klutz.
“That’s off the wall!” said Miss Small.
“That’s loony!” said Mrs. Cooney.
“That’s bizarre!” said Miss Lazar.
“Well, what if they were thrown into a pit of burning lava?” asked Mrs. Lane.
“That’s wacky!” said Mr. Macky.
“That’s loco!” said Ms. Coco.
“That’s freaky!” said Ms. Leaky.
“Where would we possibly get a pit of burning lava anyway?” asked Mr. Klutz.
“We could go to Rent-A-Pit-Of-Burning-Lava,” said Mrs. Lane. “You can rent anything.”
“Are you off your rocker?” asked Mr. Docker.
“Have you gone mad?” asked Dr. Brad.
“That’s it!” said Mr. Klutz angrily. “I’ll give in to Mr. Porky’s first two demands. But now I’ve got to draw the line. This is a school, not some silly TV show. You tell Mr. Porky that we say no. We’re going to do Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent without him. We don’t care whether or not it’s on TV! Who needs TV anyway?”
“Yeah, who needs TV?”
“Yeah, who needs TV?”
“Yeah, who needs TV?”
In case you were wondering, everybody was saying, “Yeah, who needs TV?”
Wait a minute. I need TV!
In the end, Mr. Porky backed down from his third demand. He agreed to put Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent on TV even if the contestants were not attacked by sharks, vultures, or burning lava.
That was a relief, because I was sure to be the one who would get attacked by sharks, vultures, or burning lava. Nobody was laughing at my jokes at our last rehearsal. I was getting really nervous. Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent was the next night, and I didn’t have an act.
Mrs. Lane pulled me aside at the end of rehearsal.
“Y’know, nobody tells plain old jokes anymore, A.J.,” she told me. “These days, comedians do what is called observational humor.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“They sort of observe the world around them and talk about how funny it is,” said Mrs. Lane. “Maybe you should try that, A.J.”
I went home and observed the world around me. But my house wasn’t very funny. My backyard wasn’t very funny. My bedroom wasn’t very funny. I didn’t have anything funny to say.
I thought about it long and hard. I thought about it so hard that my brain hurt. Then I came to my decision—I was going to drop out of the talent show. Somebody else could win the secret grand prize.
Finally, the big night arrived. Even though I wasn’t going to be in the talent show anymore, I came to school early and went backstage to help out with the lights, props, costumes, and stuff. There were TV cameras all over the place. Everybody was nervous.
I peeked at the audience from behind the curtain. The all-purpose room was packed. There must have been a million hundred people there. And a billion hundred would be watching on TV.
“We’re gonna be famous!” Andrea said to anyone who would listen. “I’m so excited!”
Mr. Klutz climbed up on the stage. I saw the red lights on top of the TV cameras go on. That meant we were on TV! Some guy held up a sign that said APPLAUSE, and the audience started clapping and cheering.
“Welcome to Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent,” Mr. Klutz read from a cue card. “My name is Mr. Klutz, the school principal. Before we get to our amazing talent, I want to say one thing. Folks, do you like pork sausages? I sure do. And when I want a pork sausage, I reach for Porky’s Pork Sausages. They’re the best pork sausages in the world, made with the finest pork and no artificial ingredients. So when you want a pork sausage, reach for Porky’s.”
The guy held up the APPLAUSE sign again, and Mr. Klutz held up a package of Porky’s Pork Sausages. Everybody clapped and cheered.
“Now it’s time to announce the secret grand prize of Ella Mentry School’s Got Talent,” said Mr. Klutz.
Everybody got quiet, because they wanted to know what the secret grand prize would be.
“The winner of our talent show will receive a trophy and . . . a year’s supply of Porky’s Pork Sausages!”
The guy held up the APPLAUSE sign, and everybody clapped and cheered, whether they liked pork sausages or not.
“Now it’s time to introduce our panel of judges,” said Mr. Klutz. “Our first judge will be . . . Mr. Porky, the owner of Porky’s Pork Sausages!”
A short, fat, bald guy came out and waved to the crowd. He actually looked like a little pig.
“Our second judge will be . . . Mrs. Lane!” said Mr. Klutz.
Mrs. Lane came out on roller skates while juggling flaming torches. She is really talented.
“It was Mrs. Lane who put this whole show together,” said Mr. Klutz. “Would you like to say a few words?”
Mrs. Lane set her flaming torches down and roller-skated over to the microphone. But she didn’t say a few words. She sang a few words to the tune of “Home on the Range.” It went like this. . . .
“Oh give me some pork
with a knife and a fork,
and potatoes that have been French fried.
It makes a great lunch,
and I’ll eat a whole bunch
with a plateful of beans on the side.
Porky’s Pork Sausages.
I’d rather eat them than play.
And when I am don
e,
I’ll take one on a bun
to bring home and to eat the next day.”
Mrs. Lane is a really good singer. Everybody clapped and cheered for her.
“And now it’s time to introduce our third judge,” said Mr. Klutz, “who just happens to be our surprise celebrity guest.”
“It’s gonna be Mr. Hynde.”
“It’s gonna be Mr. Hynde.”
“It’s gonna be Mr. Hynde.”
In case you were wondering, everybody was saying it was gonna be Mr. Hynde.
But everybody was wrong. So nah-nah-nah boo-boo on everybody.
“You all know him,” said Mr. Klutz. “You all love him. Put your hands together for this year’s hottest young rap sensation . . . Cray-Z!”
WHAT?!
Cray-Z is the coolest kid in the history of the world! A few months ago he came out with this rap song called “The Christmas Klepto,” and it was all over the radio, TV, YouTube, magazines, everywhere. He’s a superstar!
“EEEEEEEK!” All the girls started screaming, fainting, and freaking out.
“I love him!” some girl shouted.
“Marry me, Cray-Z!”
“That’s right,” said Mr. Klutz. “Cray-Z is in the house!”
Everybody went nuts when Cray-Z came out from the back of the all-purpose room. He was high-fiving kids and signing autographs.
The three judges sat at a table in front of the stage. Mr. Klutz explained the rules. . . .
“Each child blah blah blah blah two minutes blah blah blah blah at the end blah blah blah blah please do not take flash pictures blah blah blah blah our judges will decide blah blah blah blah blah . . .”
He went on for about a million hundred hours. Nobody was paying attention.
“Okay, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” said Mr. Klutz. “It’s time to bring on the talent! That is, right after this short message about Porky’s Pork Sausages . . .”
We had to sit through a boring commercial that explained why Porky’s Pork Sausages were the best pork sausages in the world. Then Mrs. Lane introduced the acts, one at a time.
