The Good, the Bad and the Very Slimy Page 3

  I’M TENSE

  One hour before the History test. The pressure was on. I admit it. Even Bernie Bridges felt a little tense.

  The Rotten House dorm has a Study Hall Room downstairs. I went there to study because I knew it would be quiet. No one has used this room in a hundred years.

  I pushed away the cobwebs. Then I hunched over the table. My eyes scanned the History textbook. I knew the imports and exports of every country in South America.

  But my brain was fried from all this studying. Does tin come from Bolivia or Peru? Are the jute mines in Chile or Paraguay? And what the heck is jute?

  How could I keep it all straight?

  I looked up and saw Mrs. Heinie staring at me. Her eyes bulged behind her thick glasses. Her mouth was open in surprise.

  “Bernie? You’re in the Study Hall Room?” she said. “Should I call for the nurse?”

  “I’m studying for the History test,” I said. “It’s important to be an outstanding student.”

  “I’d better call the nurse,” Mrs. H. said. “You must have a high fever. You’re talking crazy.”

  “No, I’m not,” I said. I jumped to my feet and shook her hand. “You’ve inspired me, Mrs. Heinie. You’ve set the right example for me. Thanks to you, I want to spend my life learning, learning, LEARNING.”

  “Now I know you’re sick,” Mrs. Heinie replied. “Now I’m really going to keep an eye on you, Bernie.”

  Chapter 15

  I’M HOT!

  I felt too tense. I was nervous about the History test. And the strain of being good all week was starting to give me the shakes.

  I had to get loose. I walked over to the Fitness Center. Belzer carried my History textbook for me.

  Sherman Oaks’s parents had built the Fitness Center. It has all the latest equipment. I heard that Sherman Oaks works out for an hour before every test. He says it gets the juices flowing.

  That’s what I wanted to do. Flowing juices had to be good for test-taking. A little work on the treadmill. Get the heart pumping on the stationary bike. Maybe lift some weights…

  So where was Sherman? I didn’t see him anywhere. Instead, I saw two girls come rushing in—Flora and Fauna, the Peevish twins.

  These two sisters are almost as stuck-up as Sherman. I guess that’s why they always hang out with him.

  “Bernie, we were looking for you,”

  Fauna said.

  “Where is your friend Sherman?” I asked. “Hiding in his room because he knows I’m going to score higher on the History test?”

  They both sneered at me as if I were a fly that should be swatted. “Sherman is way too rich to even think about you,” Fauna said.

  “He’s doing that secret thing that he does,” Flora said. “Ever since he started doing it, he gets a perfect score on every test.”

  “Huh?” I let out a gasp. “Secret thing?” I grabbed Flora’s arm. “What is it?”

  Both girls shook their heads. “We can’t tell you. It’s a secret thing.”

  I turned to Belzer. “Reach into my backpack,” I said. “Pull out what’s in there.”

  I turned to the Peevish twins. “How about a dozen Nutty Nutty Bars? Would you tell me Sherman’s secret for a dozen Nutty Nutty Bars?”

  They looked at each other. “A dozen each?” Flora asked.

  “Okay, okay.” I tossed them each a dozen Nutty Nutty Bars.

  “Here’s the secret,” Fauna said. “Sherman wraps a hot hot hot towel around his head. He keeps it burning hot.”

  “It does something to his brain cells,” Flora said. “It gets his brain cells moving faster. And he never misses a question.”

  The Peevish sisters hurried away with their candy bars.

  I turned to Belzer. “Don’t just stand there. Hurry! Hot towels! I need burning hot towels!”

  “But—but—where?” Belzer cried.

  “The laundry,” I said. “Get to the laundry. Hurry. I need those hot towels. Gotta get those brain cells moving!”

  A few minutes later, Belzer came running back into the gym. He had an armload of towels, and he was screaming in pain. “Ow! Ow! They’re hot! They’re burning hot!”

  He had burns over most of his body. “Good work, Belzer,” I said. “Quick. Wrap one around my head.”

  As soon as the scalding hot towel touched my skin, I could feel my brain come alive. “Yes! Yes! This is awesome, Belzer. More towels!

  Get more towels! I’m going to ace this test!”

  My head throbbed. I wanted to scream in pain. But I let the heat soak into my brain.

  My head was red and swollen when I walked into the classroom. But I knew I had the History test aced. I could already see my perfect score.

  I took my seat and heard someone call my name. I turned to see Sherman run into the room, followed by Miss Hanley, the school nurse. “There he is!” Sherman cried. “Check him out.”

  Nurse Hanley strode over, her eyes studying me. “Sherman says you’re very sick and shouldn’t be in class today.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Huh? Me, sick? That’s crazy!”

  “He’s totally sick,” Sherman said. “Look at his head. It’s all red and swollen.”

  Nurse Hanley felt my forehead. “OH, MY!” she screamed. “You’re burning up! I’ve never felt a head this hot! You must have a fever of 106!”

  “But—but—but—” I sputtered. “I wrapped hot towels around my head.”

  “You’re talking crazy,” Nurse Hanley said. “It must be the fever. Let’s get you to a bed in the infirmary!” She dragged me out of the room.

  I turned and saw the big grin on Sherman’s face. “Bye, Bernie. Feel better soon!” he called. “Guess you won’t be scoring higher than me after all!”

  Chapter 16

  THE DOUBLE-SMART QUIZ BOWL

  The next morning, Nurse Hanley let me go back to the dorm. Feenman and Crench came running into my room. “Are you okay, Bernie?” Feenman asked. “Did the fever break?”

  “There was no fever,” I grumbled. “Sherman pulled that hot-towel trick on me. He made sure I couldn’t beat him on the test. He doesn’t want me to take April-May to the party.”

  “We ate your breakfast,” Crench said. “We didn’t think you were coming back.”

  “Thanks for trying to cheer me up,” I said.

  “We ate some Nutty Nutty Bars, too,” Feenman said. “Just nine or ten.”

  I barely heard him. I was miserable. Miserable! Because of Sherman’s dirty trick, I had missed the History test. How would I ever impress April-May now?

  I stepped over to the window and peered down to the yard. I could see Jennifer Ecch down there. She had set up a tent outside Rotten House so she could spy on me twenty-four hours a day.

  There she was, staring up from the tent flaps. Just watching…and waiting.

  Waiting to carry me to the dance party like a big hunting dog with a rabbit in her teeth.

  Gulp. I had to think of a new plan to impress April-May—FAST!

  I changed into my school uniform. Then I sneaked out the back door so Jennifer wouldn’t see me.

  I was halfway across the Great Lawn, thinking hard…thinking…when I was run over from behind by a two-ton tank.

  I heard Sherman’s giggle. I looked up from the grass and saw Sherman and Flora Peevish. He was giving her a lift on the back of his huge, eighteen-karat-gold bike.

  Sherman leaned over the handlebars and grinned down at me. “Hope you’re feeling better, Bernie! We missed you in History class!” He and Flora burst out laughing.

  I ignored their laughter. No way could I stoop to their level.

  I reached for my backpack. “How many Nutty Nutty Bars do you want today?” I asked Sherman. “I’ll give you a special price since you’re such a good friend. Only three dollars a bar.”

  “Sherman and I don’t have time for candy,” Flora sneered. “We’ve entered the Double-Smart Quiz Bowl together.”

  “It’s two kids on a team,” Sherman said.
“It’s only for smart kids. You can watch from the audience, Bernie. I’m sure someone will sound out the big words for you.”

  They both laughed again. They slapped each other high fives and nearly fell off the bike.

  But I was thinking hard….

  April-May would be totally impressed if I won the Double-Smart Quiz Bowl. Much better than beating Sherman in a stupid History test!

  “You two should give up now,” I told Flora and Sherman. “It’s all over. You don’t stand a chance—because I’m entering the contest!”

  They both tossed back their heads and laughed some more. They laughed until a fly flew into Flora’s mouth and she started to gag. She coughed it out as Sherman rode over me on the bike and pedaled away.

  I had thick black tire marks across my school blazer. But I didn’t care. I had a plan. I knew how to win.

  Chapter 17

  BILLY THE BRAIN

  After school, I grabbed Billy the Brain and dragged him to the library. Billy has a solid C-minus average. That’s why everyone at Rotten School calls him the Brain.

  He’s a totally awesome student. Some nights he studies for almost half an hour. And he reads books that don’t have pictures in them.

  So I knew he’d be the perfect partner for the Double-Smart Quiz Bowl.

  “We can’t lose,” I told him. We huddled in a corner of the library. “I brought some sample questions. I know they’ll be easy for you.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Okay. Try these,” I said. I raised the sheets of paper I’d brought. “Who was the fortieth president of the United States?”

  Billy rubbed his chin. “Walt Disney?”

  “That was too easy,” I said. “Let’s go to the next one. What does H2O stand for?”

  Billy rubbed his chin again. “Salt?”

  “We’ll come back to that one,” I said. I scanned the page of questions. “Here’s one you’ll know. What is the capital of Illinois?”

  Billy shut his eyes and thought hard. “Is it South Dakota?”

  I shoved the questions into my backpack. “That’s enough for tonight,” I said.

  Billy rubbed his temples. “That gave me such a headache,” he said.

  Uh-oh. Have I made a mistake? I wondered. Should we change his nickname to “Billy the Total Moron”?

  I hoped not. I needed Billy. I needed him to be brilliant, to help me win the contest and impress April-May.

  Billy hurried away, rubbing his aching head.

  I started to get up, but I stopped when I saw two eyes staring at me from behind a bookshelf.

  Jennifer Ecch poked her enormous head through the shelf, knocking about a dozen books to the floor. “I’m watching you, Bernie,” she said. “I’m watching and I’m waiting.

  And I’m ready for the dance party.”

  She reached through the shelf, grabbed my hand, and licked my face.

  I’ve got to win that contest tomorrow, I told myself.

  If I don’t, there will be a lot more licking at the party.

  I finally tugged free of Jennifer’s grasp. My face was sopping wet.

  “See you at the party, Honey Cakes,” she whispered.

  No way. I planned to study all night. By tomorrow, I’d be brilliant!

  Unfortunately, my plan didn’t work out. That night, I made a horrible mistake.

  Chapter 18

  A CHAMPION SLUG

  That night in the dorm, I couldn’t find anyone to help quiz me. Belzer, Feenman, and Crench weren’t in their room.

  I asked Nosebleed to help me. But he got a nosebleed and had to run to the nurse.

  My friend Chipmunk said he’d help. Chipmunk is the shyest, quietest guy in school. He started reading me questions. But he muttered them into his hand, and I couldn’t hear a word he said.

  Finally, I had to toss him out of my room. “Thanks for your help, dude,” I told him. “But a little advice…You’re supposed to exhale when you talk—not inhale!”

  “I’ll practice,” he said. At least, that’s what I think he said.

  I decided to quiz myself. But Lippy, my adorable parrot, started making a racket. “Go swallow a cuttlebone! Eat birdseed and DIE!”

  Cute guy. But I had no time for him tonight. I pulled the cover over his cage. “Come closer and I’ll BITE your throat!” he squawked.

  He’s so playful.

  I sat down at my desk and started looking at some quiz books I’d found in the library. But before I could really get down to work, Feenman and Crench came bursting into the room.

  “Bernie—hurry!”

  Feenman cried, pulling me to my feet. “You’ve gotta get to the Student Center!”

  “Sherman is having a slug race!” Crench said. “He’s cheating. He’s not waiting till Tuesday. You gotta get Sluggo there or Sherman will win.”

  I sat back down. “Not tonight, fellas,” I said. “You know I promised to be good for a week. I have to stay here and study.”

  Their mouths dropped open. “Study?” Crench cried. “Didn’t you hear me? The race is starting in a few minutes!”

  I shook my head. “Not for Bernie B. I’m studying for the Quiz Bowl tomorrow. Dudes, I have to win that contest. I have to beat Sherman and impress April-May.”

  Feenman grabbed my shoulders. “You don’t understand, Big B. Sherman has a brand-new racing slug. He is bragging to everyone. He says it can beat Sluggo by a mile!”

  “Huh?” I jumped angrily to my feet. “Sherman is insulting Sluggo? The greatest racing slug in the history of Rotten School sports? He dares to insult the Great Sluggo?”

  They both nodded.

  I slammed my book shut. I started for the door. “Crench—get Sluggo from his cage!” I cried. “Let’s go, guys. Gentle. Be gentle! That slug is a champion!”

  Chapter 19

  THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE VERY SLIMY

  When I trotted into the game room, the guys were all there. All the same guys from Tuesday night. They were putting the slugs through their warm-up exercises.

  Sherman couldn’t wait to show off his new slug. “Check him out. He’s a Chinese razor slug. My father brought him home from Hong Kong. He cost two thousand dollars.”

  Two thousand dollars for a slug?

  I studied it. It looked like it had tiny, pointed teeth in its head. Impossible. A slug with teeth?

  “Sherman,” I said, “it looks like you when you wake up in the morning—except it’s not as slimy!”

  Everyone laughed but Sherman.

  “Let’s see who’s laughing at the end of the race,” Sherman said.

  Again, we each bet five dollars. I closed the game room door so we wouldn’t be bothered by any intruders. We moved to the end of the table to line up our slugs.

  I massaged Sluggo’s back and gave him a pep talk. “You’re a champ! You’re the MVP!” I said.

  He squirted out something gooey in my hand.

  “Oh, wow!” Beast let out a groan. “Oh, wow. Oh, wow. I stepped on mine!”

  Beast pulled up his big foot. “Aw, look,” he groaned. “It’s stuck to the bottom of my boot.” He pried the dead slug off the boot, held it up—and popped it into his mouth.

  I grabbed my stomach. “Is that gross enough for everyone?” I asked.

  Beast was still chewing. “Kinda salty,” he said.

  “My razor slug is getting impatient,” Sherman said. “Let’s start the race.”

  We lined up the slugs. I started to count down. “Ready…set…”

  Sluggo started early. I had to pull him back. He is a champ, but he always wants to cheat.

  “Ready…set…WAIT!” I cried. “This is wrong!”

  I lifted Sluggo from the table. They were all staring at me.

  I suddenly remembered April-May and my promise to her. I had no choice. I promised I’d be good for a week. To stay out of trouble. To be better than Sherman.

  And Bernie B. never breaks a promise.

  I’d almost slipped. I’d alm
ost made a terrible mistake. But I caught myself in time.

  “No race tonight. I’ve gotta go, guys,” I said. I started to the door.

  “Bernie—are you crazy?” Sherman cried. “You can’t walk out.”

  “I have to,” I said. “My studies are much more important. I’m here to learn. I’m here to educate myself. I’m going to beat you tomorrow at the Double-Smart Quiz Bowl.”

  “Huh? He’s SICK!” Joe Sweety muttered.

  I opened my mouth to answer—but stopped when I heard a loud knock on the door.

  Silence fell over the room.

  “What’s going on in there?” a voice called.

  Mrs. Heinie! Again!

  “We’re busted,” Wes Updood said.

  We all froze.

  The game room door swung open. Mrs. Heinie burst in. She gazed around the room. “Why was that door closed?” she demanded. “What are you boys doing in here again?”

  Chapter 20

  BERNIE THINKS FAST

  I’m doomed, I thought.

  Doomed.

  Mrs. Heinie will drag me to Headmaster Upchuck’s office. April-May will go to the dance with Sherman. I’ll be stuck with Jennifer Ecch—forever!

  What can I do? Can I talk my way out of this?

  In a total panic, I swept up all the slugs. I hid them carefully in my fists. Then I hid my fists behind my back. I turned and saw Mrs. Heinie staring at me.

  “I know you’re behind this, Bernie,” she said. “What are you up to?”

  I flashed her my innocent smile, the one with the dimples twinkling in both cheeks. “We’re planning something for your birthday, Mrs. H.,” I said. “You’re special to us, and we want to get you a really good present.”

  She squinted through her thick glasses. “What are those wet, slimy tracks on the table?” she asked.

  “Those are my tears,” I said. “I get so emotional when I think about your birthday.”