by Bill Myers
“Yeah,” I type.
“That they’re always less smart, less strong, less——”
“No,” I sigh, glancing out at the waiting audience. “Just less good. Now can we get on with the story?”
“What if they turn good?” Bumble Boy asks. “Then would we be equal?”
“Absolutely. Different, but equal.”
“Like you and Wall Street?” he asks.
Now I see where he’s going with the idea and type:
“Are you saying there’s a parallel between what I’m writing in this superhero story and what I’m living in real life?”
Bumble Boy breaks into a grin. He’s pretty smart for a bug.
Suddenly Shakespeare Guy speaks up:
“Hang on for a minute,
Let’s see if I geteth this.
By changingeth my ways,
There’s a chance I might liveth?”
“We could work out something,” I type.
“Then I quiteth my bad deeds,
’Tis as simple as that.
’Cause the ground is coming quickly,
And I don’t want to go splat.”
“Okay, fine,” I type. “Now can we get back to the story?”
They nodded, and I resumed my work.
As the tanker continues to fall, Shakespeare Guy suddenly tells Bumble Boy he has a change of heart. He no longer wants to be the baddest of bad guys.
“Cool,” Bumble Boy shouts. “Then I’ve got the perfect solution. See that lake to the right of the rocks we’re about to smash into?”
Shakespeare Guy nods.
“Let’s try to nudge the tanker over so it splashes into the water instead.”
Shakespeare Guy agrees and throws himself against the side of the cab: Once, twice, three times...as Bumble Boy presses his nose against the truck’s side window, buzzing his wings for all he’s worth. It’s close, but thanks to some more incredible writing on my part, they work together side by side, until the tanker hits with a tremendous
KER-SPLASH...
GURGLE...
GURGLE...GURGLE....
The KER-SPLASH is the truck landing in the lake. The GURGLE...GURGLE... GURGLE...is the tanker slowly sinking to the bottom.
Our dynamic duo pry open the cab door and swim to the surface. After the daily minimum requirement of coughing, gagging, and choking, Shakespeare Guy cries, “My potion...my potion....”
“Don’t worry,” Bumble Boy shouts. “Now that it’s on the bottom of the lake, people will no longer be exposed to its dastardly effects.”
As the two swim toward shore, Shakespeare Guy confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking when I invented something as awful as that.”
“Hey,” Bumble Boy cries, “listen to your voice.”
“What?”
“You’re no longer speaking poetry. The effects are wearing off. Even on you.”
That was the good news. Unfortunately there was a little bad news too. Shakespeare Guy is the first to spot it. “Oh great, check out the fish.”
Bumble Boy looks into the water around him. He sees trout slipping on tights, bass sporting armor, and more than one pair of salmon practicing their fencing.
“It looks like the tanker’s sprung a leak,” Bumble Boy groans. “It’s polluting the lake.”
“Then I’ll have to hurry and invent an antidote,” Shakespeare Guy cries, “so we can dump it into the water. Do you want to help me?”
“Sure,” Bumble Boy agrees. “But, uh, shouldn’t we ask Wally?
“Nah, what does he care, he’s got that big speech coming up, remember?”
I stared at my computer screen. I tell you, you give these imaginary characters an inch, and they’ll take a mile. I reached back to the keyboard and typed:
“Say, guys! I don’t mean to keep butting in here, but are you sure working together is such a good idea? I mean, look at you, you’re so different.”
“That’s the beauty of it,” Bumble Boy answers. “With all of our different skills we ought to be able to work together and get that antidote discovered twice as fast.”
“He’s got a point,” Shakespeare Guy says. “Can we, Wally? Can we? Huh? Can we?”
Being softhearted and the type that hates seeing his superhero characters cry, I go ahead and type:
“Sure, knock yourselves out.”
The two let out a hearty cheer. And, as the credits begin to roll, they stroll off into the sunset arm in arm. It’s a touching ending, knowing that
they’ll work together and use their differences to make a difference. (It would have been even more touching if it had been my idea. But hey, who am I to get in the way of a good ending?) The point is...
“Hey, Wally, Wall Street,” Sylvia Wisenmouth hissed, “you’re on!”
I quickly shut down Ol’ Betsy and pulled myself together. Wall Street was getting ready, too. A moment later we walked out onto the stage. Well, Wall Street walked. I did my usual stumbling, tripping, and falling-flat-on-my-face-in-front-ofthe-podium routine. (Being nervous makes me kind of clumsy—actually, living makes me kind of clumsy.)
Of course everybody gasped, and the President leaped to his crutches getting ready to hobble for the door in case I pulled a repeat of last night’s performance. Fortunately, I didn’t.
Wall Street was scheduled to deliver her speech first. I had no idea what she would say, but I could already feel a tightness in my gut as she walked up to the podium.
She cleared her throat and began. “Good morning.” After the usual feedback, she continued. “I
just want to say that the past three days were hard. I had no idea how hard it was being a guy.”
Polite applause.
“In fact, I have to admit it was actually tougher doing guy stuff than girl stuff.” There was a long moment of silence. I could see her fidget. She took a deep breath and continued. “This is real hard for me to say, but . . .” She turned to me with a sad smile. “I hereby admit defeat and declare Wally McDoogle the victor. It’s true, boys really are superior to girls.”
The auditorium went crazy. All the guys were up on their feet cheering. I could see Bruce Breakaface and his bruiser buddies grinning and flashing me the thumbs up. The male reporters and my two Secret Service pals were laughing and giving each other high fives. And, never to let a photo opportunity slip by, the President himself rose to his feet, turned to face the crowd, and gave the victory sign.
When things had finally quieted down (sometime after the year 2063), it was my turn to rise and head for the podium. Someone started to chant, and pretty soon all the guys in the audience were shouting:
“WAL-LY, WAL-LY, WAL-LY!”
I gotta tell you, it was pretty cool. It felt great finally being a hero for once in my life. But before I signed any motion picture deals or began the late night talk show circuit, I knew I had to clear up a couple of things. And I had a sneaking suspicion they were things some folks might not want to hear.
I leaned into the microphone. “My fellow students . . .”
Once again the room filled with feedback, but you could barely hear it over the repeat of all the cheers and applause. It was great. I tell you, I could really get into this hero thing. But when they finally settled down, I knew I had to continue:
“Like Wall Street, I’ve learned a lot over these past seventy-two hours—especially the differences between men and women.”
“You tell ’em, Wally!” some guy shouted. Others laughed and clapped.
I smiled. This was harder than I’d figured. For the briefest second I thought I’d simply accept Wall Street’s defeat and keep on being the superstar. But as cool as that would have been, it would have also been a lie.
I cleared my throat, threw a look back to Wall Street, and plowed ahead. “But I’ve learned something else as well.”
I could hear the auditorium get quiet.
“I’ve learned that different is not better. I’ve learned that I can do some things better than
Wall Street . . . (more applause) . . . and that she can do some things better than I can. . . (dead silence). I’ve learned that we’re not better because we’re guys or gals . . . we’re just different—with different skills, different abilities, different talents.”
I glanced down to the President. He wasn’t exactly frowning, but he wasn’t exactly smiling, either. I glanced over to Governor Makeasplash. Ditto in her neck of the auditorium.
I swallowed and continued. “And I’ve learned something else. I’ve learned that these differences are good. That’s how God made us, male and female. And if we work together, as a team, using those differences, it will actually be to our advantage. If we work together, there’s nothing we can’t do.”
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop (and my knees knock). I took a deep breath and finally brought it to an end. “So, it is with great pleasure, that I also admit defeat, and say that girls are better than boys.”
The dead silence grew deader. Nobody clapped; nobody did a thing. I wasn’t surprised. I stood there a few more seconds before slowly folding up my speech and turning around. That’s when Wall Street leaped to her feet and started racing toward me.
Before I knew it, we were in another hug—only this time the whole world saw it—and this time I didn’t seem to mind.
I can’t remember all that went on next . . . though I remember Ms. Finglestooper giving some sort of wrap-up speech and Mrs. Permagrin offering cookies at the back of the auditorium. (An event I’d decided to pass on.)
I looked out at the crowd as they rose and started to leave. I knew things were going to be hard the next few weeks. My days, er, seconds of being a hero were over. I doubted the President, Governor Makeasplash, or even the press would be dropping by for any more chats, which was okay because after Bruce Breakaface’s meeting, the hospital probably wouldn’t allow me to have any visitors anyway.
And still, I knew I’d done the right thing.
“Hey, Wally,” Wall Street called from across the stage where she’d been talking to friends. “I’ve got to write a short story for English. You want to come over to the house later and give me some pointers?”
I shook my head. “I’d love to, but I’ve got a pre-Algebra test coming up.”
“That’s all right,” she said. “Why don’t you help me on my writing, and I’ll help you out on your math.”
She had a point and I nodded. “That’s cool,” I said. “Why don’t I swing by after dinner?”
“Great.” She turned and headed out the door.
For a moment I stood all alone on the stage. I couldn’t help noticing how similar this ending was to my Bumble Boy story. How, once we respect each other’s differences, we can use them to our advantage.
“Hey, crunch-munch Wally?”
I turned around to see Opera waiting at the door.
“Let’s crunch-munch head on munch-crunch home.”
“You sure you want to be seen with the all-school moron?” I asked, as I started toward him.
“Sure burp, I’m used to it belch. Have a chip?”
He offered me his latest bag as we headed out out the door and down the steps—not, of course, without my usual falling, stumbling to keep my balance, and staggering out into the busy traffic, which nearly caused an accident.
HONK . . . HONK . . . SQUEAL . . . SQUEAL . .
.
CRUNCH . . . MUNCH . . .
CRUNCH . . . MUNCH
“Oh no!” I cried as I peeled myself off a
Mercedes’ front grill. “Your chips! Look what I did to your chips!”
We looked down at what was now a bag of smashed potato dust.
“That’s all right,” Opera said as he scooped up the powder and poured it into his mouth. “We all have unique gobble, gobble skills. You were just scarf, scarf using yours.”
I looked at him and marveled—not only over his incredible eating ability, but over his wisdom. When the guy was right, he was right. I spotted one unbroken chip on the ground, tossed it into my mouth, and the two of us turned and headed for home. Yes sir, Opera was dead on. And what a comfort to know that, as much as we change and grow, some things will always remain the BELCH! same.
You’ll want to read them all.
THE INCREDIBLE WORLDS OF
WALLY MCDOOGLE
#1—My Life As a Smashed Burrito with Extra Hot Sauce Twelve-year-old Wally—“The walking disaster area”—is forced to stand up to Camp Wahkah Wahkah’s number one all-American bad guy. One hilarious mishap follows another until, fighting together for their very lives, Wally learns the need for even his worst enemy to receive Jesus Christ. (ISBN 0-8499-3402-8)
#2—My Life As Alien Monster Bait
“Hollyweird” comes to Middletown! Wally’s a superstar! A movie company has chosen our hero to be eaten by their mechanical “Mutant from Mars!” It’s a close race as to which will consume Wally first—the disaster-plagued special effects “monster” or his own out-of-control pride . . . until he learns the cost of true friendship and of God’s command for humility. (ISBN 0-8499-3403-6)
#3—My Life As a Broken Bungee Cord
A hot-air balloon race! What could be more fun? Then again, we’re talking about Wally McDoogle, the “Human Catastrophe.” Calamity builds on calamity until, with his life on the line, Wally learns what it means to FULLY put his trust in God. (ISBN 0-8499-3404-4)
#4—My Life As Crocodile Junk Food
Wally visits missionary friends in the South American rain forest. Here he stumbles onto a whole new set of impossible predicaments . . . until he understands the need and joy of sharing Jesus Christ with others. (ISBN 0-8499-3405-2)
#5—My Life As Dinosaur Dental Floss
It starts with a practical joke that snowballs into near disaster. Risking his life to protect his country, Wally is pursued by a SWAT team, bungling terrorists, photo-snapping tourists, Gary the Gorilla, and a TV news reporter. After prehistoric-size mishaps and a talk with the President, Wally learns that maybe honesty really is the best policy. (ISBN 0-8499-3537-7)
#6—My Life As a Torpedo Test Target
Wally uncovers the mysterious secrets of a sunken submarine. As dreams of fame and glory increase, so do the famous McDoogle mishaps. Besides hostile sea creatures, hostile pirates, and hostile Wally McDoogle clumsiness, there is the war against his own greed and selfishness. It isn’t until Wally finds himself on a wild ride atop a misguided torpedo that he realizes the source of true greatness. (ISBN 0-8499-3538-5)
#7—My Life As a Human Hockey Puck
Look out . . . Wally McDoogle turns athlete! Jealousy and envy drive Wally from one hilarious calamity to another until, as the team’s mascot, he learns humility while suddenly being thrown in to play goalie for the Middletown Super Chickens! (ISBN 0-8499-3601-2)
#8—My Life As an Afterthought Astronaut
“Just cause I didn’t follow the rules doesn’t make it my fault that the Space Shuttle almost crashed. Well, okay, maybe it was sort of my fault. But not the part when Pilot O’Brien was spacewalking and I accidently knocked him halfway to Jupiter. . . .” So begins another hilarious Wally McDoogle MISadventure as our boy blunder stows aboard the Space Shuttle and learns the importance of: Obeying the Rules!
(ISBN 0-8499-3602-0)
#9-My Life As Reindeer Road Kill
Santa on an out-of-control four wheeler? rical Rudolph on the rampage? Nothing unusual, just Wally McDoogle doing some last-minute Christmas shopping . . . FOR GOD! Our boy blunder dreams that an angel has invited him to a birthday party for Jesus. Chaos and comedy follow as he turns the town upside down looking for the perfect gift, until he finally bumbles his way into the real reason for the Season. (ISBN 0-8499-3866-X)
#10—My Life As a Toasted Time Traveler
Wally travels back from the future to warn himself of an upcoming accident. But before he knows it, there are more Wallys running around than even Wally himself can handle. Catastrophes reach an all-time high as Wally tries to outth
ink God and re-write history. (ISBN 0-8499-3867-8)
#11—My Life As Polluted Pond Scum
This laugh-filled Wally disaster includes: a monster lurking in the depths of a mysterious lake . . . a glowing figure with powers to summon the creature to the shore . . . and one Wally McDoogle, who reluctantly stumbles upon the truth.Wally’s entire town is in danger. He must race against the clock, his own fears, and learn to trust God before he has any chance of saving the day. (ISBN 0-8499-3875-9)
#12—My Life As a Bigfoot Breath Mint
Wally gets his big break to star with his uncle Max in the famous Fantasmo World stunt show. Unlike his father, whom Wally secretly suspects to be a major loser, Uncle Max is everything Wally longs to be . . . or so it appears. But Wally soon discovers the truth and learns who the real hero is in his life. (ISBN 0-8499-3876-7)
#14—My Life As a Screaming Skydiver
Master of mayhem Wally turns a game of laser tag into international espionage. From the Swiss Alps to the African plains, Agent 00 1/7th bumblingly employs such top-secret gizmos as rocket-powered toilet paper, exploding dental floss, and the ever-popular transformer tacos to stop the dreaded and super secret . . . Giggle Gun. (ISBN 0-8499-4023-0)
#15—My Life As a Human Hairball
When Wally and Wall Street visit a local laboratory, they are accidentally miniaturized and swallowed by some unknown stranger. It is a race against the clock as they fly through various parts of the body in a desperate search for a way out while learning how wonderfully we’re made. (ISBN 0-8499-4024-9)
#16—My Life As a Walrus Whoopee Cushion
Wally and his buddies, Opera and Wall Street, win the Gazillion Dollar Lotto! Everything is great, until they realize they lost the ticket at the zoo! Add some bungling bad guys, a zoo break-in, the release of all the animals, a SWAT team or two . . . and you have the usual McDoogle mayhem as Wally learns the dangers of greed.
(ISBN 0-8499-4025-7)
