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  TWENTY-SIX

  Brainy Janey again. I think it’s best if I continue the story from here . . .

  Cranky Frankie was so depressed, he stayed in his room for three whole days. I told him he was missing school and he said, “No. I don’t miss it at all.”

  I tried to get him to insult me or yell. But he was still too sad to be cranky.

  Finally, three days later, Handy Sandy came walking in carrying a red helium balloon on a string.

  “What happened?” Adam Bomb asked Sandy. “Where have you been?”

  Sandy shrugged. “It’s kind of a long story.” As she tied the string to the back of her chair, she sat down and started to tell us the story.

  “I went to the Smellville Party Store for a red balloon,” Sandy started, “but the owner sent me to the balloon store down the street. I got to the balloon store, but they were out of balloons.”

  “So what did you do?” I asked Sandy.

  “I waited while they drove to the next town to get more balloons.”

  “And?” I asked impatiently.

  “They came back a few hours later with about a dozen balloons. But none of them were red. They had blue and green and pink and yellow and gray and brown and black and rainbow and chartreuse. But no red.”

  “So what did you do?” I asked.

  Sandy sighed. “What could I do? I waited for them to go back to the next town and get a red balloon. Later that night they came back with a red balloon. I was so happy and asked them to blow it up. But it turned out their helium tank was empty.”

  “They had no helium?” Adam Bomb asked.

  Sandy nodded. “No helium.”

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  “They had to fly to the next state to refill the helium tank,” Sandy said. “I waited for them. But it took a day before they returned with a filled tank.”

  “So they filled the red balloon with helium?” I said.

  Sandy nodded again. “Yeah, they filled it. But then they realized they didn’t have any string.”

  I groaned. “You’re kidding. They were out of string?”

  “Yes,” Sandy answered.

  “So what did you do?”

  “Well . . . the string store was closed. So I had to wait overnight until they opened again. The next morning, I bought a string and tied it to the red balloon.

  “So I was all set and headed home. But then something bad happened . . .”

  “Something bad?” Adam asked.

  She nodded. “I was so excited, I accidentally let go of the string. And the red balloon floated away.”

  “So what did you do?” Adam demanded.

  “I went back to the balloon store for another one. But they had to drive to the next town again, and they came back the next day with another red balloon.”

  She grinned. “And now here I am. I brought it home as fast as I could.”

  “Well, let’s go give it to Frankie,” I said. “I can’t wait to see his face. This is going to cheer him up instantly.”

  Handy Sandy untied the string from her chair. The red balloon bobbed above her head.

  She carried it carefully up the stairs to Frankie’s room. Everyone followed as we stopped in the hall and crowded around his bedroom door. I knocked.

  “Come in,” Frankie said evenly.

  I opened the door and we stepped inside. “We have a present for you,” I said.

  Frankie raised his head and gazed at the balloon.

  “Here.” Sandy handed him the red balloon.

  We waited. And waited.

  Then Frankie started to cry. And his cries became loud sobs.

  “Huh? What’s wrong?” I asked him.

  “I wanted a blue balloon!” Frankie said.

  JONNY PANTSFALLDOWN

  Favorite TV superhero of Wacky Jackie and Junkfood John Episode 342

  Zip your fly, everyone! Snap to attention! And keep your belt buckled tight for ADVENTURE! It’s time for another thrilling episode of JONNY PANTSFALLDOWN, told by me, the world’s greatest sidekick—THE MIGHTY HAIRBALL!

  “I will never let you down!” That’s what Johnny Pantsfalldown promised the good people of Pupick Falls.

  And he always keeps his word.

  Every night after dinner, Jonny puts on his cape, his mask, and his Pants of Steel. Then, side by side with me—the Mighty Hairball—he fights crime and terrifies criminals with his famous battle cry:

  “YODEL-AY-EEE-OOOO!”

  As our story begins, Jonny is at the stove, frying an egg for his Power Dinner. I am sitting at the kitchen table, blowing my nose into my stylish Mighty Hairball handkerchief.

  “Did you have dinner?” Jonny asked.

  I nodded. “I had an ear of corn,” I said. “It’s all I was in the mood for.”

  Jonny flipped his egg over with a spatula. “You know, Hairball, you’re supposed to shuck the corn first before you eat it.”

  “You’re joking,” I said. “You mean open it up first?”

  “Yes,” Jonny replied. “You’re not supposed to eat the leaves.”

  I burped into my hand. “I never knew that, Jonny. I’ll try to remember next time. The leaves always stick in my throat. And so do the corn cobs.”

  I’m really lucky to be the sidekick of Jonny Pantsfalldown. I learn something new every day. Why, just last week, Jonny taught me how to tie the laces on my boots. And ever since, I haven’t been falling down as much.

  Jonny flipped his egg again and it sizzled in the pan.

  “Funny thing about eggs,” Jonny said. “You can cook them sunny-side up. You can cook them over, or bottoms up. But you can’t cook them sideways.”

  “I’m sure science is working on that,” I said.

  Jonny is so brilliant. He’s not only an expert on catching criminals, he’s also an expert on eggs.

  I watched him slide the egg onto his plate beside a slice of toast and walk toward the table.

  But the sad fact is, Jonny never got to eat that egg.

  The life of a superhero is unpredictable.

  Before Jonny could slide even a sliver of egg down his throat, he was off on one of the most dangerous and thrilling adventures of his life!

  JONNY PANTSFALLDOWN CONTINUED. . .

  “No time for dinner!” Jonny cried. “I’m getting a police signal from my pants! We have a crime to stop!”

  Jonny’s Pants of Steel are on alert twenty-three hours a day. (The other hour, they are in the wash!)

  He turned to me. “Mighty Hairball, we’ve got to get to Lake Sickening. I hope we’re not too late!”

  “The lake?” I cried. “Is someone in trouble there?”

  “No,” Jonny answered, lacing up his high-heeled boots—the boots that make him look almost as tall as other superheroes. “Someone is stealing the lake!”

  I slapped the sides of my face with both hands. “Oh no! Lake Sickening is the most beautiful spot in all of Pupick Falls. Despite its odor.”

  “It’s Big Bootus again! My archenemy!” Johnny exclaimed. “Big Bootus is trying to steal the lake and put it in his own backyard!”

  “He can’t get away with that!” I cried, pulling down the ear flaps on my battle helmet.

  “Not with Jonny Pantsfalldown on duty,” Jonny said. He then raised his head and shouted his famous battle cry:

  “YODEL-AY-EEE-OOOO!”

  “Did you bring that new belt buckle?” Jonny asked. “The buckle with a double lock for keeping my pants up?”

  “Shoot, I forgot it,” I said.

  I may be the world’s best sidekick, but I’m not perfect.

  “No problem,” Jonny said. “I’ll worry about that later. Now let’s go rescue the lake!”

  We jumped out the window and took off flying into the night sky. The moon was full and the stars were bright, and I could hear my stomach gurgling.

  You guessed it. I’m afraid of heights.

  Jonny’s Pants of Steel ruffled in the wind as we flew side by side. I shut my eye
s and pretended I was down on the ground. I get terribly airsick, you know.

  “It’s a big lake. How are we going to find Big Bootus?” I asked.

  “He’s easy to find,” Jonny replied. “He has the biggest bootus in town.”

  A few minutes later, Lake Sickening was below us, shimmering under the bright moonlight. And there on the shore stood Big Bootus, gazing up at us as we landed.

  “Well, well, it’s the Mighty Hairball!” he sneered. “I see you brought your puppy dog with you to play!”

  “I don’t own a puppy dog!” Jonny Pantsfalldown boomed.

  “I meant it as a joke,” Bootus replied. “It was kind of an insult.”

  “I don’t get jokes!” Jonny shot back. “I’m too busy protecting the people of Pupick Falls to waste time deciphering your jokes!”

  Suddenly I felt muddy water pour into my boots. I had accidentally stepped into the lake.

  I tried to back up, but both boots were now filled with water. I dropped to my knees and my pants got all wet, too.

  Oh wow. I struggled to my feet and saw that my cape was soaked.

  “You’ll never get away with this, Big Bootus!” Jonny shouted. “Lake Sickening belongs to the people!”

  Big Bootus grinned. “It’s mine now! I’m taking it home, Jonny.”

  “But—how?” Jonny demanded.

  JONNY PANTSFALLDOWN CONTINUED. . .

  “Do you see these ten thousand water glasses?” Big Bootus said. He motioned to the glasses lined up along the shore.

  “What do you plan to do with those?” Jonny asked.

  “I’ve filled them all up with water! I’ve already got half the lake, and I’m taking the glasses home in my truck and pouring them into my backyard!”

  Jonny turned to me. “This is a tough one. He has a pretty good plan, Hairball. What do you think we can do to stop him?”

  “Maybe you could punch him,” I said. It’s a sidekick’s job to always be thinking and planning and plotting.

  “I can’t allow you to steal Lake Sickening,” Jonny said. Fists raised, he then let out his battle cry:

  “YODEL-AY-EEE-OOOO!”

  Big Bootus laughed. “What are you going to do, Jonny?”

  “Punch you really hard in the stomach,” Jonny told him.

  But Big Bootus laughed again. “You’ll have to catch me first!” And with that he spun around and took off, running along the shore, his big bootus bobbing behind him as he ran.

  Jonny took a deep breath and rocketed after Bootus. “I won’t have our lake stolen on my watch!” he shouted.

  Big Bootus was too big to run too fast. I watched as Jonny came up behind him.

  And then: “WHOOOOOAAA!” Jonny’s pants fell down.

  He tripped and stumbled forward—falling face-first into what was left of Lake Sickening.

  “Noooo! Mighty Hairball—help me!” Jonny cried. “My Pants of Steel are pulling me down, down to the bottom. I’m going to drown!”

  I ran over to him. “I can’t help!” I told him. “I don’t know how to swim. They don’t have a pool at Sidekick School.”

  Jonny splashed and thrashed and kicked and squirmed. Finally, he just rolled out of the lake (after all, there was only two inches of water left).

  By the time we turned around, Big Bootus had loaded all the water glasses into his truck. We stood there watching as he drove away with the lake.

  Jonny sighed. “If only I had that belt buckle with the two locks,” he said.

  “I’ll try to remember it next time,” I told him. “The Mighty Hairball never forgets . . . twice!”

  Jonny waved his fist at the back of Big Bootus’s truck as it rolled away. “I’ll get you next time!” he yelled. “Or my name isn’t Jonny Pantsfalldown!”

  That’s our thrilling adventure for today, boys and girls. Until next time, this is the Mighty Hairball saying: “Keep your pants up—and reach for the stars!”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Okay, Adam Bomb here again. I tried to get everyone to turn off the TV so we could discuss our parent problem. But another episode of Jonny Pantsfalldown was about to start.

  It was one of our favorites. The one where Jonny puts his Pants of Steel on backward, and he walks into himself! It’s an awesome episode, so no one would turn it off.

  And then it was dinnertime, and I was starting to get hungry.

  You might wonder how the ten of us feed ourselves without any parents in the house. Well, it isn’t that hard.

  Some nights we sneak into other people’s houses and eat their dinner before they sit down. The Fayce-Wart family lives next door to the Perfects. They leave their kitchen window open a lot, and it’s easy to sneak out big helpings of their dinner when they’re not in the kitchen.

  Most nights, though, we make our own food.

  Handy Sandy is an awesome cook. Junkfood John is good, too.

  Sandy’s best dishes are cold spaghetti out of a can and microwave popcorn. John has been into vegetables lately. His favorite is candy corn.

  My favorite dinner is a can of vanilla icing and tortilla chips.

  Last night, however, we had a problem. Babbling Brooke and Brainy Janey were enjoying a salad. But as they dug in, they found a lot of feathers in it.

  It turns out Ptooey had been in the kitchen before dinnertime. The girls finished their salads, but they choked on the feathers and even ate the strange white dressing they didn’t remember putting on.

  We never all sit down together to eat at the same time. For one thing, we don’t have a table big enough for all of us. We usually just go into the kitchen and grab something when we feel like it.

  Tonight, I was watching Jonny Pantsfalldown with everyone else. Junkfood John and Wacky Jackie came out of the kitchen with big smiles on their faces and orange sauce dripping on their chins.

  “I’m stuffed,” Jackie said, patting her stomach.

  “Awesome dinner,” John said to Handy Sandy. “Were you the one who made it?”

  Sandy turned away from the TV. “Made what?”

  “That big bag of dinner we just ate,” John said.

  “Oh, wow.” Sandy shook her head. “I meant to take that bag out to the back. That wasn’t dinner. It was last week’s garbage.”

  “Tasty,” John said, wiping his chin.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  I think I should explain that garbage is very important here in Smellville.

  For one thing, the metal garbage can was invented in this town. Before that, people used paper garbage cans, and they always got soggy and fell apart.

  One fun fact: The man who invented the metal garbage can thought he was inventing a garbage pail. He had no idea he was inventing a garbage can, not a pail.

  That’s one of the “interesting” things they taught us in fourth grade, the year all students study the history of garbage in Smellville.

  You see, Smellville is a tourist town because of our garbage. The Tomb of the Unknown Sanitation Worker stands in the middle of Waste Matter Park.

  People come from miles around to gawk at the twenty-foot-tall bronze statue in front of the tomb—a sanitation worker in a stained uniform, with an enormous garbage can hoisted over his shoulder.

  It’s an awesome statue. People are so inspired by it, they bring their garbage and leave it there in tribute.

  No one even knows who the fallen sanitation worker is. The plaque on his tomb just says that he gave his life to rescue a garbage bag that was floating out to sea.

  At the bottom of the plaque are the words: So long, sucker.

  I believe that’s Latin for: Rest in Peace.

  Now, you may be wondering why all of Smellville Middle School is here at the Tomb of the Unknown Sanitation Worker.

  Relax, I’m going to tell you in the next chapter.

  (Hint: It has something to do with garbage.)

  TWENTY-NINE

  So here I am at the Tomb of the Unknown Sanitation Worker with everyone else from my school.

  That�
��s because it’s Middle School Garbage Day.

  Each year we come here to celebrate our unknown hero. And every kid brings some garbage from home to enter in the big contest.

  That’s right. Our principal, Mr. Grunt, will award the Best Garbage of the Year trophy to one lucky winner. I told you, garbage is important to us here in Smellville. Everyone wants to win the first-prize trophy.

  I felt bad, though. We didn’t have much garbage to enter in the contest this year. That’s because Wacky Jackie and Junkfood John ate most of it.

  “I’m so tense. Do you think we have a chance?” Nervous Rex asked me.

  I checked the bags in front of me. They were leaky and some orange lumpy stuff was dripping out from the bottoms. “It smells totally putrid,” I told Rex. “I think it smells bad enough to win the trophy.”

  Rex held his nose. “That’s not our garbage that stinks so bad. It’s Rob Slob.”

  “You can’t even smell garbage when Rob is standing next to it,” Cranky Frankie added.

  I turned to Rob. A whiff of powerful odor made me sneeze a few times.

  I noticed he had green-and-blue mold growing on his jeans. “Rob, do you ever clean your jeans?” I asked.

  Rob squinted at me. “You’re supposed to clean them?”

  I nodded. “When mold starts to grow on your jeans, you probably should wash them.”

  “No one told me I had to,” he said.

  “You should wash your shirt, too,” I said. “It’s all mossy and has leaves growing on it.”

  “I’m not wearing a shirt,” Rob said.

  I had to turn away. His breath was melting my buttons.

  Peter and Patty Perfect walked by me. They were carrying their garbage in a pale blue shopping bag from Tiffany’s, the jewelry store.

  “Our garbage doesn’t smell,” Patty said to me.

  “Yeah. Your garbage smells like garbage,” Peter said, holding his perfect nose in the air. “We spray our garbage with perfume before we bring it here. Then we Febreze it. Then we perfume it again. That’s why Patty and I always win.”

  “Maybe we should spray Rob Slob,” Cranky Frankie whispered to me.