Dudes, the School Is Haunted! Page 2

  …And all the lights went out. Silence.

  A few kids giggled.

  I couldn’t see a thing. There are no windows in the front hall of the Student Center.

  No one moved. No one made a sound.

  And then I heard a scream. A high, endless scream of horror.

  Chipmunk!

  Chapter 6

  DE-PANTSED

  The ceiling lights flickered back to life. A dim orange at first, then bright yellow.

  My heart pounding, I turned. I couldn’t bear to see what Sweety had done to my friend. Did he split him in two? From now on would he be Chip and Munk?

  Whoa—!

  I blinked. I blinked again. I didn’t believe my eyes!

  Joe Sweety stood there—in front of the whole class—with his pants down around his ankles. He was wearing boxers with yellow flowers on them!

  Kids started to laugh. Some kids screamed in shock.

  “He’s been DE-PANTSED!!”

  “I’m sorry!” Chipmunk wailed again. “It was an accident! Really! You gotta believe me!”

  Sweety scowled angrily at him. He shook the two Fist Brothers in Chipmunk’s face.

  “It was an accident!” Chipmunk wailed. “When the lights went out, I…grabbed the nearest thing. I didn’t mean to grab your pants!”

  Kids roared with laughter. Sweety turned beet red.

  Mrs. Heinie hurried over. Rainwater dripped off her glasses. “What’s going on here, Buster?” she cried, staring at Joe Sweety. “Why are your pants down around your ankles?”

  “Well, I—”

  She didn’t give The Big Sweety a chance to talk. “Showing off your underpants to the whole school?” she cried. “Maybe you’d like to show them off to Headmaster Upchuck!”

  “But—but—but—” Sweety started to sputter.

  “Maybe Headmaster Upchuck will give you some pointers on how to keep your pants on when you’re in school! Come with me!” And she dragged Joe Sweety out by one ear.

  At the front door, Sweety turned and waved Mr. Fist and Mr. OTHER Fist at Chipmunk. “Don’t forget your playdate!” he shouted.

  Then he and Mrs. Heinie disappeared out into the rain.

  Chipmunk turned to me. His whole body shook. His teeth chattered. “Oh, wow,” he murmured. “I’m doomed now, Bernie. Doomed!”

  I put a hand under his chin and raised his head high. “Are you kidding?” I said. “You’re a hero!”

  His eyes bulged. “Huh?”

  “Check this out,” I said. “You squirted The Big Sweety in the face with apple juice. Twice! Then you urrped your breakfast all over him. Then you de-pantsed him in front of the whole fourth grade!”

  I slapped Chipmunk on the back. “AND…you got away with it!” I cried. “Dude, you got away with it!”

  Chipmunk gulped hard. His arms and legs shook like a scarecrow in the wind. “Did I?” he whispered.

  Chapter 7

  PARTY ON, DUDES!

  Chipmunk was a true hero. The dude made a fool of The Big Sweety. We had to celebrate and go nuts. I invited all the guys in Rotten House to a party the next night in the Commons Room. (That’s like our living room.)

  How could we have a wild party with our dorm mother, Mrs. Heinie, snooping around?

  Well, Mrs. Heinie joined a new club. Friday night is her Tattoo Club night. She and a bunch of other ladies drive to the tattoo parlor in town every Friday night and watch people get tattoos.

  So the coast was clear. Rotten House dorm was all OURS! That meant we could par-tee!

  Does Bernie B. know how to throw a party? Does a penguin eat the yellow snow?

  Nothing but the best for my buddy Chipmunk. We had five different kinds of pizza, including Chipmunk’s favorite—no sauce, no cheese, just crust.

  We had piles of doughnuts and bags and bags of lemon garlic tortilla chips. You know—health food. And we had dozens of our favorite candy—Nutty Nutty Bars, which I sold to the guys at a special price of two dollars each.

  The dudes were all chugging can after can of Foamy Root Beer. You know their slogan: “It’s So Foamy, It Stays on Your Face for Hours.” We drink gallons of it every day—and we use it for shampoo.

  I’d hung up some crepe paper streamers for decoration. But they didn’t last long. Beast was shoving them into his mouth and sucking them down like spaghetti.

  Then he jammed an entire pizza into his mouth and ate it. I don’t know how he did it, but he had tomato sauce pouring out his nose! Cool, huh?

  Some girls wandered into the party. I saw April-May June and her friend Sharonda Davis. Flora and Fauna, the Peevish twins, were arguing over which kind of pizza to have.

  But—whoa. Wait. Hold on a minute.

  “Hey, guys, where’s Chipmunk?” I called.

  The room grew silent.

  “We can’t have the party without Chipmunk,” I said. “Chipmunk is the MAN!”

  I dragged Feenman and Crench away from the food table. “Go find him,” I said. “He’s probably hiding under his bed. Drag him down here. It’s his party!”

  But before they could move, we saw a boy stagger into the room. Chipmunk!

  I took one look at him—and let out a scream! Kids gasped and cried out in shock. Beast coughed up a red streamer.

  Something was different about Chipmunk. I stared at him. What was it?

  And then I saw. His nose—it was upside down! With the nostrils facing UP!

  Chapter 8

  SWEETY’S REVENGE

  Chipmunk staggered over to me. “Help me, Big B,” he said in a whisper. “Help me. Please—turn my nose back the right way. I can’t go out in the rain like this.”

  “Hold still,” I said. “Grit your teeth. This is gonna hurt a little.”

  I grabbed his nose. It made a crackling sound as I spun it back into place.

  He let out a moan, and his knees buckled. Feenman and Crench helped him to a chair.

  “Chipmunk, who did this to you?” I asked.

  Chipmunk groaned. “I met Mr. Fist and Mr. OTHER Fist,” he said. “And then I met Mr. Turn Your Nose Upside Down.”

  I turned to my friends. “Joe Sweety can’t get away with this!” I shouted. “He can’t twist noses upside down any time he pleases!”

  “Of course he can.” Chipmunk moaned. “He said this was just a love tap. Sweety said when he’s finished with me, I’m gonna flop around on the floor like a seal, go and people will toss fish at me.”

  Beast laughed. “Hey, Seal Boy!” he called. “Seal Boy! Urk-urk-urk!” Beast honked like a seal.

  The dude has a weird sense of humor.

  I turned back to Chipmunk. He was trembling so hard, his chair was doing a tap dance on the floor.

  “Forget about The Big Sweety,” I said. “Check it out. This party is for YOU! You’re the hero, dude! How about some pizza with just the crust?”

  Chipmunk shook his head sadly. “No thanks, Bernie. I have to go hide under my bed till school is over in June.”

  The poor guy was terrified. He stumbled out of the room holding his nose.

  Crench turned to me. “Bernie, what are you going to do?”

  I shook my fist. “Wait till I get my hands on Joe Sweety,” I said. “I’ll turn his whole face upside down. He’ll be eating with his eyebrows!”

  Feenman and Crench stared at me. “You’re kidding, Bernie. You’re going to fight him?”

  I shook my head. “Of course not. I’m a talker, not a fighter. That’s how we’ll get Sweety. We’ll use our brains.”

  “Huh?” Crench said. “Fight with our brains? Won’t that hurt?”

  I made a fist and tapped Crench on the forehead. “Knock-knock,” I said.

  “Who’s there?” Crench replied.

  “No one!” I said. “Leave the thinking to me, Crench. Save your brain. You need it for walking and chewing gum at the same time.”

  “Yeah,” Crench said. “That’s kinda hard.”

  Chapter 9

  SCARY GHOST S
TORY III

  I stayed up all night, thinking hard about Joe Sweety. But I didn’t dream up a good plan for revenge. The great Bernie B. was stumped.

  Just before dinner the next day, I ran into April-May June on the Great Lawn. I knew she wanted to be my girlfriend. She was just too shy to show it.

  “Beat it, Bernie,” she said.

  “There you go again,” I said. “Pretending you’re not thrilled to see me! Can I talk to you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I’m busy.”

  “Busy? What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Breathing,” she said.

  I laughed. Of course my girlfriend has an awesome sense of humor!

  “Did you think about Saturday night?” I asked. “You know. The scary movie? It’s called Scary Ghost Story Three. Want to come with me?”

  “I’m busy Saturday night,” she said. “I found a power drill in the wood shop, and I’m going to drill another eye socket into my head.”

  I stared at her. “Is that a no?”

  Poor April-May. Just too shy to admit she likes me.

  I thought about her all the way back to Rotten House.

  I found Feenman and Crench up in their room. They were tying each other’s school neckties. That’s how they get dressed for dinner. They don’t know how to tie their own ties. They only know how to tie each other’s!

  “Too bad you cowards missed it. I really did a number on The Big Sweety today!” I bragged. I swung a fist in front of me. “Now he knows better than to mess with Rotten House dudes. He won’t be coming after Chipmunk anymore.”

  I laughed. “You shoulda seen the look on his face. After I got done with Sweety, he was shaking like Jell-O in an earthquake!”

  Feenman frowned at me. “You’re lying, right?”

  “You are so lying,” Crench said.

  “Yes, I’m lying,” I said. “But a dude can daydream—can’t he?” I sighed. “I still don’t have a plan.”

  “You’ll think of something, Big B,” Feenman said.

  “You tied the knot too tight!” Crench gasped. “I…can’t…breathe!”

  Their ties were totally knotted together. They were going to be late for dinner again.

  I hurried down to Chipmunk’s room to see how he was doing. “Hey, Chipper—what’s up?” I called.

  I stared into an empty room.

  “Hey…Chipper? Chip-Chipmunk?” I shouted, glancing around. “You da man, Chipmunk. You da man! Where are you?”

  I heard a soft chirp above my head. I looked up and saw him. Chipmunk was on the ceiling. He had squeezed himself into the ceiling light.

  “What are you doing up there?” I called.

  He shrugged. “Just hanging.”

  “I’ll get a ladder,” I said. “Bernie B. to the rescue. I’ll pull you down.”

  He shook his head. “No thanks. I’m fine here. Really. I’ve got water and everything.”

  I stared up at him. “You’re serious? You want to stay up there? For how long?”

  “Just till the end of the school year. It’s safer. Really,” Chipmunk said. “Mr. Fist and Mr. OTHER Fist can’t reach me up here.”

  “But, Chipmunk—” I started.

  “Please go away,” he begged. “I LIKE it up here!”

  “Okay, okay,” I muttered.

  “But, Bernie, could you bring a few sandwiches back from the Dining Hall and toss them up to me?”

  “No problem,” I said.

  “No tuna salad, okay? The little bits of celery make me gag.”

  “No problem,” I said again. “But I’m going to find a way to protect you, Chipmunk. I’m going to find a way to scare the pants off Joe Sweety so he’ll never bother you again.”

  And wouldn’t you know it? I found the answer the very next night at the movie….

  Chapter 10

  A-HAUNTING WE WILL GO

  When I arrived, the auditorium at the Student Center was packed with kids. The lights were already dimming. Headmaster Upchuck was waving frantically for everyone to take a seat.

  Feenman and Crench were supposed to save me a seat in the front row. I was halfway down the aisle—when two powerful hands grabbed me around the waist.

  Jennifer Ecch pulled me onto her lap and put her arm around my shoulder to keep me from escaping. “Bernie, will you protect me from the ghost?” she asked in a tiny voice.

  “Unnnh…unnnnh…mmmunnnh,” I replied. She was squeezing a little too hard.

  I know I’m adorable. But this was way too embarrassing!

  The lights went out. Kids started to settle down. From the back row, Beast burped really loud.

  “It’s the GHOST!” a boy shouted.

  Wild laughter broke out. Several other guys burped.

  “Quiet, everyone! I won’t start the movie until everyone is quiet!” Headmaster Upchuck shouted.

  Beast let go with another deep, juicy burp. This one lasted at least two or three minutes.

  Finally, the movie started. Jennifer squeezed me tighter. The movie title floated onto the screen in ghostly white letters: SCARY GHOST STORY III.

  “Scary Ghost Story Two is my favorite,” Jennifer whispered. She nibbled on one of my ears.

  “Mmunnnnh-unnnnh!” I cried. She wouldn’t let go. I was helpless! I knew both ears could be gone before the movie ended!

  I leaned forward and stared at the screen. A group of teenagers with backpacks were walking in the woods at night. The forest was silent except for the crunch of their footsteps.

  “Let’s set up camp,” one of the boys said. “We’ll be totally safe here in the woods with no one around.”

  They pulled out plastic tents and started to stand them up.

  Creepy music started. Something moved behind a tree. The camera turned and moved closer.

  Slowly…slowly…a pale figure came into view.

  The creature smiled, and we could see his rotting teeth. His nose was gone—just a hole in his face. And his eye sockets were deep and dark and empty.

  The evil ghost!

  “Terrible, cheap special effects,” Jennifer muttered. “It’s just a man in a costume. No way that’s as good as Scary Ghost Story Two.”

  The ghost floated toward the teenagers, raising its bony hands to attack them. The creepy music grew louder.

  I heard a scream—a high, shrill scream of horror.

  At first I thought it was part of the movie. But then, down at the end of my row, I saw a kid jump up.

  The kid let out another frightened scream, like a baby’s cry. He pushed his way into the aisle and ran toward the door at the back, shrieking and wailing the whole way.

  I turned to watch. Chipmunk? Was Chipmunk here at the movie?

  No. As the kid burst out through the auditorium door, I could see him clearly.

  JOE SWEETY!

  The Big Sweety was running out of the auditorium, screaming like a two-year-old!

  Whoa, dudes. I couldn’t miss this.

  Using all my strength, I pulled free of The Ecch. And I flew into the aisle. Running hard, I followed Joe Sweety out the back door of the Student Center.

  Joe tore across the grass toward his dorm, screaming all the way.

  “Do you believe it?” I said to myself. “The biggest, meanest, scariest dude in school is afraid of ghosts.”

  A grin spread across my face. I rubbed my hands together.

  The answer to my prayers!

  This is going to be fun, fun, fun with a capital F-U-N.

  We’re going to HAUNT Joe Sweety!

  Chapter 11

  THE NYCE HOUSE GHOST

  Later I closed the door to my room. I paced back and forth for hours, planning and plotting. Then I did some plotting and planning.

  Nobody can plan and plot and plot and plan like Bernie B.

  Finally, I had the perfect idea.

  I was going to make Joe Sweety think there was a ghost in Nyce House, his dorm. And that it was after HIM!

  Could I do it? Does a
salmon have a nose?

  I needed Feenman for the first part of my plan. I told him exactly what to say. Then I took him to the gym.

  Joe Sweety lifts weights in the gym every morning before classes. Sometimes when the gym is locked, Joe lifts Coach Bunz’s car instead.

  Sure enough, there was The Big Sweety, huffing and puffing in the center of the floor. He was only lifting 200-pound weights this morning. Guess he wanted to take it easy.

  I pulled Feenman close to him. I wanted to make sure Joe heard everything we said. “He’s listening,” I whispered to Feenman. “Remember, repeat everything I told you.”

  Then I started to talk very loudly. “The Nyce House ghost is a hundred years old. He returns every five years,” I said. “And he always goes after guys named Joe.”

  I glanced behind me. That definitely caught Joe’s attention.

  “Why only guys named Joe?” Feenman asked.

  “A hundred years ago, when the ghost was a Rotten School student, a big dude named Joe used to sit on him and tickle him till he peed. Soon the poor kid died of embarrassment. And since then, he hates anyone named Joe. Every five years, he returns to Nyce House to haunt another Joe!”

  I heard a loud thud. The floor shook. Sweety had dropped a weight onto his foot.

  He hopped over to me on his other foot and grabbed me by the shoulders. “You’re joking about that ghost—right? Tell me you’re joking.”

  “Oh. Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know you were listening. Don’t pay any attention. Just because everyone is talking about it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Feenman added. “The ghost only comes once every five years.”

  “How many years has it been?” Joe asked.

  I pretended to count on my fingers. “Uh…five,” I said. “But don’t worry about it, Joe. The ghost only comes in months with the letter r in them.”

  Sweety went pale. “But this month has an r in it!” he cried. He grabbed the front of my shirt. “Listen, how can you tell if it’s haunting you?”