Mr. Hynde Is Out of His Mind!

by Dan Gutman

  My Weird School #6

  Mr. Hynde Is Out of His Mind!

  Dan Gutman

  Pictures by

  Jim Paillot

  To Emma

  Contents

  1 Boring, Snoring Mr. Loring

  2 Goody Two-Shoes Andrea

  3 The One-Man Funky Groove Machine

  4 The Plot to Get Rid of Mr. Hynde

  5 Mr. Hynde Gets Funky

  6 Beauty and the Beast

  7 K-i-s-s-i-n-g

  8 The Play

  9 TV, at Last

  10 And the Winner Is…

  11 One Last Song

  About the Author and the Illustrator

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  1

  Boring, Snoring Mr. Loring

  My name is A.J. and I hate school.

  I hate reading.

  I hate writing.

  I hate arithmetic.

  But there’s one horrible subject that I really hate more than anything else.

  Music.

  Music is so dumb! Music is the most boring subject in the history of the world. Why do we need music class in school, anyway? It’s not like I’m going to grow up to be a singer. When I grow up, I’m going to be a professional dirt bike racer.

  In first grade last year, the music teacher, Mr. Loring, made us sing all these totally corny songs from prehistoric times, like “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” and “Michael, Row the Boat Ashore.” Mr. Loring loves boats, I guess. He’s weird.

  He’s about a million hundred years old, and he has long gray hair. Mr. Loring told us that when he was a kid back in the last century, TV wasn’t even invented yet. Can you imagine living in a world without TV? It must have been horrible! I would die if I didn’t have TV.

  Mr. Loring’s favorite song for us to sing was “Who Stole the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?” You know the song:

  Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?

  A.J. stole the cookie from the cookie jar.

  Who me?

  Yes you.

  Couldn’t be.

  Then who?

  Ryan stole the cookie from the cookie jar.

  I used to like that song, but Mr. Loring made us sing it so many times that I never wanted to eat another cookie for the rest of my life.

  Mr. Loring’s other favorite song was “Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed.” That song got really old too. If any monkeys ever jumped on my bed, I would sell the bed. That’s disgusting! I don’t even like it when my sister jumps on my bed. Forget about monkeys.

  “Everybody line up!” said my teacher, Miss Daisy, after we finished pledging the allegiance.

  “Line up for what?” we all asked.

  “It’s time to go to music,” Miss Daisy said.

  “Yippee!” said Andrea Young, this really annoying girl with curly brown hair.

  “Boo!” said just about everybody else. Nobody except Andrea and her friend Emily wanted to go see boring, snoring Mr. Loring.

  Andrea loves everything about school. She even loves homework. One day Andrea asked Miss Daisy if we could have more homework! Can you imagine asking your teacher to give you more homework?

  Andrea is weird.

  2

  Goody Two-Shoes Andrea

  Miss Daisy let Andrea (the little brownnoser) be the line leader when we walked down the hall to the music room. Her little crybaby friend Emily was the door holder. I walked with my pals Ryan and Michael.

  We had just turned the corner outside our classroom when I saw the most horrible thing in the history of the world. It was a sign on the wall by the office:

  NEXT WEEK IS TV TURNOFF WEEK!

  DON’T FORGET TO TURN OFF YOUR TV!

  “Oh no!” Ryan groaned. “Say it’s not true!”

  “I’ll die without TV!” said Michael. “TV Turnoff Week is the worst week of the year!”

  “It’s the worst week in the history of the world,” I said.

  “What are we going to do all week without TV?” asked Ryan.

  “I might go crazy,” said Michael.

  It was even worse than we thought. The sign said that TV Turnoff Week had been such a success last year that they decided to make it TV Turnoff Month this year! Four whole weeks with no TV!

  “Guys, this is the end of the world as we know it,” I said.

  “Oh, you boys are silly,” Andrea said. “TV is for silly dumbheads anyway. I never watch TV. I’d rather spend my time singing or playing a musical instrument.”

  Andrea takes violin lessons and piano lessons and dancing lessons and singing lessons and just about every other kind of dumb lessons they have. If they give lessons in anything, Andrea takes them. If they gave lessons in how to take lessons, Andrea would probably take them.

  “My mother told me that music cleans the soul,” she said as we walked past the art room.

  “Maybe you should try taking a bath,” I said.

  Ryan and Michael laughed at my funny joke.

  “A.J., you wouldn’t be so mean if you tried singing instead of sitting around watching TV all the time,” Andrea said. “I love to sing. I can sing all the songs from Annie. That’s my favorite movie.”

  Ugh.

  Then Andrea started singing that song about the sun coming out tomorrow. It was horrible. The police should use Andrea’s singing to punish criminals in jail.

  “Can you sing solo?” I asked Andrea when she finally stopped.

  “Sure I can,” she said.

  “Then why don’t you sing so low we can’t hear you?”

  Ryan and Michael cracked up at my funny joke. They are true friends.

  “You’re mean!” Andrea said.

  “Please hold your tongue, A.J.,” said Miss Daisy. Then she told me to be quiet because she knew that I was going to stick my tongue out and hold it.

  Finally we got to the music room. Mr. Loring wasn’t there yet, so Miss Daisy told us to sit on the rug.

  Last year my first-grade teacher told us to sit Indian style, but she got in trouble because some Indian people didn’t like it. So she told us to sit like pretzels instead. Miss Daisy doesn’t tell us to sit like Indians or like pretzels. She just says, “Crisscross applesauce,” which doesn’t mean anything at all.

  I sat in the second row next to Ryan and Michael.

  Andrea and Emily sat in the front row, of course. Miss Daisy said we could talk quietly until Mr. Loring arrived.

  “Remember when Mr. Loring had us sing ‘Jingle Bells’?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s a bobtail?” Michael asked. “You sing ‘bells on bobtail ring,’ but I never knew what a bobtail was.”

  “Beats me,” said Ryan.

  “I think a bobtail is a kind of car,” I guessed.

  “Nobody names a car Bobtail,” said Michael.

  “Bob backward is still Bob,” Ryan said. “And tuna backward is a nut.”

  “Tuba backward is a butt,” I said.

  “I used to have a fish named Fred,” said Ryan.

  “What does that have to do with bobtails?” asked Michael.

  Nothing,” Ryan said. “I was just thinking about Fred.”

  Suddenly that goody two-shoes Andrea turned around.

  “You boys are dumbheads,” she said. “A bobtail is a little furry animal with a short tail. Everybody knows that.”

  She was probably right, but I don’t like Andrea Young telling me anything. She started singing “Jingle Bells.”

  “Who asked you?” I interrupted. “You don’t know anything about music.”

  “Do too!” Andrea said, all mad. “I’ve been playing the piano ever since I was four years old.”
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  “Don’t you get tired?” I asked.

  I thought that was a pretty funny joke, but nobody laughed. Can’t win ’em all.

  “I can even play a Beethoven sonata,” Andrea bragged, all proud of herself.

  “You play with Beethoven’s snot?” I said. “That’s disgusting!”

  Andrea got all huffy and turned back around. Why doesn’t a piano fall on her head?

  “Boy, Mr. Loring is really late,” Michael said.

  “Maybe he died of old age,” said Ryan.

  “I think we’re going to die of old age waiting for him,” I said.

  “Maybe he bored himself to death,” said Michael.

  “You boys are mean!” said that crybaby Emily. “Mr. Loring is nice!”

  She looked like she was going to cry. What a baby! My mom says that all you have to do to get some people upset is to look at them sideways. I tried looking at Emily sideways, but she didn’t even notice.

  Miss Daisy told us she was going to the office to see what happened to Mr. Loring. She told us to be on our best behavior while she was gone. So as soon as she left the room, me and Michael and Ryan got up and shook our butts at the class. Most of the kids laughed.

  That’s when the most amazing thing in the history of the world happened.

  3

  The One-Man Funky Groove Machine

  First this weird purple smoke started pouring out on the floor in the front of the music room. Then the sound of drums started pounding out of a boom box on Mr. Loring’s desk. Then the lights went out and these laser beams started shooting around the music room in all different colors. It was cool!

  Suddenly two men ran into the room and started dancing around. They were wearing football jerseys and baseball caps and holding microphones.

  “Ooh, hats aren’t allowed in school,” I heard Andrea say to Emily. “Those men are going to get in trouble.”

  One of the guys started clapping his hands over his head to the drumbeat. The other one yelled into his microphone.

  “Are you ready for some music class?” the guy screamed.

  We all looked at one another. We’re not supposed to yell in school. But Miss Daisy wasn’t there, so I figured it was okay.

  “Yeah!” I yelled.

  “I SAID, ‘ARE YOU READY FOR SOME MUSIC CLASS?’” the guy repeated.

  “Yeah!” everybody yelled.

  “Are you ready to get down?” the guy screamed.

  “We’re already down!” somebody yelled.

  “And now, second graders…appearing live and in person at Ella Mentry School…is the one…the only…Jam Master Hynde, the One-Man Funky Groove Machine! Give it up, y’all! ’Cause Mr. Hynde is in the house!”

  The two guys ran out the door. The drums got louder. The lights got brighter. Andrea and Emily put their hands over their ears.

  That’s when Mr. Hynde ran in the door. He was a lot younger than Mr. Loring. He had on a baseball cap too, and he was wearing this big purple cape with sequins all over it. He had on sunglasses, too, even though he was inside. I guess that was to protect his eyes from the laser beams.

  “Ooh, he’s really cute!” all the girls said.

  “Put your hands together!” Mr. Hynde screamed. “I said, ‘PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER!’”

  We all started clapping. Mr. Hynde danced around awhile, and then he threw off his purple cape and started rapping to the beat:

  “Old Mr. Loring he was over the hill.

  So the board of education told him he would have to chill.

  My name is Hynde, and I’m gonna blow your mind.

  I ain’t no music teacher, I’m a born music creature.

  ’Cause my daddy’s name was Amos, but he never became famous.

  So he took me on his lap, and he taught me how to rap.

  I can rhyme any line. I got juice like Dr. Seuss.

  Until I hit it big, I got this teaching gig.

  So sit back on your pants and dig my new break dance.”

  Mr. Hynde got down on the floor and started spinning around on his back like a top. Then he started spinning on his head!

  It was cool.

  Finally the music and lasers stopped, and the regular lights came back on. Mr. Hynde took off his sunglasses and put on regular glasses. He was panting like a dog after a hard game of fetch.

  Me and Ryan and Michael got up and gave him a standing ovation, and the rest of the class joined in too.

  Well, everybody except for Andrea and Emily. They just sat there, with their mouths open and their eyes all big like they just saw an alien spaceship or something.

  “Yo, what up, homeys?” asked Mr. Hynde.

  “Are you our new music teacher?” asked Michael.

  “True that!” said Mr. Hynde. “What do you think I am, brother, your dentist? Welcome to music, second grade! I’m here to rock your world.”

  “I liked Mr. Loring,” Andrea whined.

  Nah-nah-nah boo-boo on her! Finally there was something at school that Andrea didn’t like.

  Anything Andrea doesn’t like, I like. And anything Andrea likes, I don’t like. We never agree on anything. I didn’t even like rap music very much, but I think I’m gonna like it now that I know Andrea hates it.

  Andrea and Emily started in brownnosing Mr. Hynde right away. They were trying to act all cute.

  “What musical instruments do you play, Mr. Hynde?” asked Andrea.

  “Sister, I play turntable,” Mr. Hynde said.

  Then he took one of those big old black records that my parents used to listen to in ancient times. He put it on a record player. Then he started sliding the record back and forth while he rubbed the needle against it. These weird sounds came out of the boom box. It was cool.

  “Scratching records will ruin them,” Andrea said. “You should hold records by the edges so they don’t get scratched.”

  “Can you possibly be any more boring?” I asked her.

  “Mr. Hynde,” asked Emily, “do you know how to sing the doe a deer song? That’s my favorite song.”

  “No problemo, sister,” said Mr. Hynde. And then he started rapping again:

  “Doe a deer and deer a doe.

  The deer is here and the deer is near.

  But the doe she gotta go.

  ’Cause the doe is in a show.

  And that doe she is a pro.

  That’s why she gotta blow.

  I hate to tell ya, Joe.

  But that doe got run over by a buffalo

  So that doe ain’t never gonna be no deer.

  And that’s the story of doe a deer.”

  Me and Ryan and Michael gave Mr. Hynde another standing ovation.

  “That’s not doe a deer!” Emily complained. “That’s a sad song about a deer that died!”

  She looked like she was going to cry, like always.

  “Chill, sister,” said Mr. Hynde. “It’s just a song.”

  “Yeah, chill,” I told Emily.

  Andrea said she knew the real doe a deer song, and she started singing it. But she only got up to the part about the drop of golden sun when Mr. Hynde held up his hand like a police officer telling you to stop your car.

  “Whoa, that stuff is old school, sister,” he told Andrea. “It’s so yesterday.”

  “I like Mr. Hynde’s doe a deer song better,” I said.

  “Me too!” agreed most of the other kids.

  “Aren’t we going to learn about all the great composers,” Andrea whined, “like Beethoven and Mozart and Gershwin and Irving Berlin?”

  “Those dudes didn’t boogie,” said Mr. Hynde. “I never listen to that stuff. This year in music class I’m gonna teach you how to get down and get your swerve on! We’re gonna bust a move!”

  “I don’t think I’m going to like music class this year,” Andrea whispered to Emily with a big worried face.

  I think I’m gonna love music class this year!

  4

  The Plot to Get Rid of Mr. Hynde

  “Mr. Hy
nde is the coolest teacher in the history of the world,” I told the guys.

  We were sitting around the vomitorium eating lunch. I traded my peach to Ryan for his cookies because food that has hair on it is disgusting. Ryan will eat anything, though. Once he even ate a bug.

  “He doesn’t act like a music teacher at all,” said Michael.

  “The best part is, we’ll never have to sing that dumb cookie jar song again!” Ryan said. We all did a big high five over that.

  At the next table, I could hear Andrea and Emily moaning and complaining about Mr. Hynde.

  “He’s really cute, and he’s a pretty good singer,” Emily said. “But he doesn’t even play any musical instruments. How can you be a music teacher when you don’t play a musical instrument?”

  “He has no right to be teaching music,” Andrea said. “I’m going to ask my mom to talk to Principal Klutz. Maybe she can get Mr. Hynde fired.”

  Me and Michael and Ryan turned around at that.

  “What?!” we shouted.

  “Mr. Hynde is a terrible music teacher,” Andrea said. “My mom is the PTA vice president, and she said that if enough parents complain about a teacher, they can get the teacher fired.”

  It figured that the school finally replaced that old dinosaur Mr. Loring with somebody cool and Andrea would start complaining. What is her problem?

  “I think Mr. Hynde is incompetent,” Andrea said.

  “He wears diapers?” I asked.

  “Not incontinent, dumbhead!” Andrea said. “Incompetent! It means he doesn’t do a good job.”

  “Yeah,” said Emily.

  That Emily agrees with everything Andrea says. She’s so annoying. I decided to yank her crank.

  “Maybe Mr. Hynde isn’t a music teacher at all,” I told her. “Did you ever think of that?”