I NEVER THOUGHT I’d say this, but sometimes, having responsible adults around really comes in handy. By the time the custodian had finished hosing off the slime, Mrs. Johnson arrived, backed by some teachers and a few PTA parents. The girls still wanted to beat us up, but they knew the principal would never allow it. They sulked and glowered instead.

Mrs. Johnson strode over to us, being careful not to step in any puddles with her fancy kangaroo-skin boots. She wore a cranberry-colored pantsuit and a wary expression.

“Boys,” she said.

“Mrs. Johnson,” we replied.

She surveyed us. “You look like you’ve been chewed up, spit out, and stepped on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” we said.

The principal stroked her chin. “I assume there’s some kind of logical explanation for what I witnessed here today?”

Logical? Benny and I exchanged a glance. “Not really,” said Benny.

“But we’ll try,” I added.

We told her about the army experiments, about the mutant mantises imitating the lunch staff, and about what we thought they were planning at our school.

Mrs. Johnson arched an eyebrow. “Mutant mantis lunch ladies?”

“Yes, ma’am,” we said.

She shook her head. “This ain’t my first rodeo, but giant bugs? That’s a whole ’nother thing.” Glancing over at the girls, Mrs. Johnson asked, “Are they in any danger?”

As the PTA and Mr. Boo continued their cleanup, Benny and I explained that the girls had had almost a week of brainwashing and some weird food that was supposed to help turn them all mantis-y. “No telling what was in it,” I said. “Bug bits? Broccoli? Some kind of mantis juice? Luckily, these girls puked it all up.”

Mrs. Johnson winced. “Dang. I guess that means we’ve got to give the rest of them an emetic.”

“Emetic?” said Benny.

“Something to make them throw up,” she said.

I made a face. “Every girl in the school?”

One side of her mouth curled. “You can’t get lard unless you boil the hog.” In answer to our blank expressions, she said, “That means, it’s disgusting, but it’s gotta be done.”

Benny blew out some air. “Man, I’d hate to be Mr. Boo—er, Decker after they finish.”

“We won’t give them emetics in the hallways,” said Mrs. Johnson. “What kind of school do you think this is?”

Benny was saved from answering that straight line by the appearance of Mr. Boo himself. “Hey, I drilled through the lock on the pantry,” he said, “and guess what I found?”

“Pasta and canned vegetables,” said Mrs. Johnson.

The lanky custodian shook his head. “Nope. Well, a few cans, maybe. No, dude, I found these three.”

He gestured, and Veronica’s friend Justin tottered forward, followed by our missing classmate AJ, and another kid who must have been Nathan. All three looked shakier than a tot on a ten-speed bike, and really, really glad to be free.

With a cry of relief, Mrs. Johnson rushed over and gave them all a hug. Little Justin clung to her like a baby koala to its mother.

“I—I—I thought they were g-gonna e-eat us,” he stuttered, burying his face in her belly.

“Oh, sweet pea,” she said. “You poor li’l thing.”

Nathan’s teacher hurried up to claim him. Benny and I greeted AJ, who solemnly shook our hands and thanked us. Despite their captivity, all three boys looked healthy. They might have even put on a pound or two.

“What did they do to you?” asked Benny.

“You don’t wanna know,” said AJ.

“Actually, we do,” I said.

Our classmate shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “They kept feeding us sweets and junk food.”

“Yum,” said Benny. “Lucky you!”

AJ shot him a dirty look. “And they were always experimenting on us with different foods and pinching us.”

“Pinching you?” I said.

“To see if we were fat enough yet.” AJ seemed queasy. “Mrs. McCoy—er…”

“The thing that looked like Mrs. McCoy?” I said.

“Yeah. She said they were going to serve me up in a nice cream sauce tonight.” He looked a little green.

Benny clapped his shoulder. “Cheer up. At least it wasn’t garlic sauce.”

“You’re safe now,” I added.

“So”—AJ looked around—“they’re really gone?”

“As gone as last year’s leftovers,” I said.

He gave a shaky chuckle. “Thanks for proving I wasn’t crazy. And for putting a stop to those…things.” He looked from one of us to the other. “I guess you guys really are heroes.”

A warm feeling started somewhere down in my belly and made its way up to my face. I ducked my head.

“Aw, shucks,” said Benny.

“Really stinky heroes,” said AJ, fanning the air. “Seriously, you both need a shower. And shirts.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“Yeah, well, don’t think your flattery gets you out of paying us,” said Benny. “We still expect a week’s allowance and a plate of your dad’s cookies.”

“I think I’ll make that two plates,” said AJ.

Veronica didn’t much care for her vomiting session. But it did seem to calm her down some. At least she wasn’t talking about ripping off my head anymore. By the time Mom came to pick us up from school, my little sister was on the road back to being her usual self.

Still a diva, yes. But at least not a cannibal diva.

After the experience, Tina seemed sullen and a bit embarrassed. Still, it was good to have my friend back. She joined us at the curb to wait for her own ride, scuffing the concrete with the toe of her sneaker.

“You feeling okay?” I asked.

Tina squinted out at the road. “I feel bad for the real cafeteria ladies, the ones who got…you know, eaten.”

I was about to correct her and say “inhabited,” the word that Dr. Sincere had used. But he’d turned out to be a big fat liar. I stared down at my hands. “Yeah. They didn’t deserve that.”

“Nobody does,” said Benny.

The four of us were quiet for a moment, remembering the three kind, goodhearted women.

Tina broke the silence. “You know, they weren’t all wrong, the mutant mantis lunch ladies.”

I eyed her. “You mean, aside from the whole ‘let’s eat the boys and turn the girls into giant bugs’ thing?”

“Right,” said Tina. “Aside from that.”

“Really?”

Her face tightened. “Things aren’t fair for girls today. We have limits. We have expectations to deal with.”

“Like boys don’t?” said Benny, wringing water from his wet T-shirt.

Tina glowered. “Zip it, Brackman. It’s not the same for girls, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Veronica seconded.

Benny pulled a skeptical face, but he wisely said nothing. I guess being chased by a horde of bloodthirsty girls could teach even Benny a thing or two.

“So maybe things will be different around here,” I said, “now that everyone’s had a taste of how the other half lives.”

“Maybe,” said Tina. But she seemed doubtful.

“One thing will be different, anyway,” said Benny.

“What’s that?” I asked.

He grimaced. “Lunch will never be the same again.”

I nodded. “Because of the memories?”

“Because of the food.” Benny’s face looked as mournful as a dog dragged away from roadkill. “We’ll never find another set of lunch ladies that serves up so much junk food.”

“Unbelievable,” said Tina.

Benny grinned. “Thanks. I try.”

I wagged my head. “As a wise person once said: ‘Zip it, Brackman.’”