CHAPTER 16

SABOTAGE IN TIMES SQUARE

CLAUDIA

Even though Jens had lived in New York City for over three months, he’d never been on the subway before, because his mom is scared of it. So it was very exciting for him to take the 6 to Grand Central and then transfer to the shuttle to Times Square.

JENS

I was surprised. I thought there would be a bad smell, but it was okay.

CLAUDIA

It only smells really bad in the summer.

We were headed to Times Square for two things: a Playbill from a Broadway musical (5 points) and a picture of a guy in a Flubby suit holding Calvin the Cat (8 points).

Getting the Playbill was easy. All we had to do was go to a theater and beg.

But pointwise, the really important thing was the Flubby picture. In case you were never a kid and/or grew up without a television, Flubby is a character on the show Aardvark Avenue. He’s basically a rock star to every three-year-old in the world.

JENS

In the Netherlands, he is not Flubby. He’s Fluuber. ^{Ed. Note: SO cute}

CLAUDIA

On most days, there are half a dozen people in Flubby suits wandering around Times Square, charging tourists money to take pictures with them.

It’s a little weird, but then so are a lot of things in Times Square.

It didn’t take us long to find a Flubby, and he seemed totally happy to let me take his picture… until I pulled our Calvin out of my bag.

When he saw the Calvin, he started shaking his big Flubby head side to side, like he was saying, “Nooooo.”

I figured it was because I hadn’t tipped him yet, so I pulled out a few dollars and offered them to him. When I did, he started waving his arms, like, “No, no, no!”

I said, “Why not?”

Then he turned his back on me and ran away.

Considering how much Aardvark Avenue I watched when I was little, having a Flubby run away from me like that was actually kind of upsetting.

But it was about to get much more upsetting.

JENS

It was very strange at first. All the Fluubers, when they saw the Calvin, folded their arms and would not hold him.

CLAUDIA

It was like they were vampire Flubbies, and our Calvin was made of garlic. Every time we walked up to a Flubby, he’d be all, “Oh, hi!” friendly—but as soon as I pulled out the Calvin, he’d freak out and refuse to hold it.

When it happened with the fifth Flubby in a row, I got very frustrated. So I yelled, “Why won’t you hold it? It’s just a cat!” at him.

And this muffled, echo-y voice from inside the Flubby head said, “I promised the girl no one else!” in a Spanish accent.

“What girl?” I said.

“The rich girl,” said Spanish Flubby. ^{Ed. Note: other Flubbies who rejected us:
-angry Flubby
-lazy Flubby (wore Crocs)
-Fur-Falling out Flubby
-red Flubby (might actually have been Elmo)}

Right away, I knew what had happened: Fembot sabotage.

“Did a girl pay you not to take any pictures with these cats?” I asked him.

Spanish Flubby nodded his giant head.

“What did she look like?”

“Long hair. Black car. Nice clothes.”

Athena Cohen.

Actually, it could have been Meredith. Or Ling. Or Clarissa. Depending on how much she’d paid him and how nice the clothes were.

“How much did she pay you?”

“Fifty dollar.”

Definitely Athena. Only she was rich and evil enough to pay off every Flubby in Times Square.

“Can’t you just please take this one picture?” I begged him. “She’ll never know!”

“No,” said Spanish Flubby. “I make a promise.”

“Please?”

“No. Sorry. Flubby is role model for the children. Flubby has to keep promises.” ^{Ed. Note: actually very admirable of him (but annoying)}

JENS

When you kept asking him and the Fluuber kept saying no, you looked so sad. I just wanted to make you cheer up.

CLAUDIA

Jens gave me a hug and said, “Don’t worry. It’s just a game. Let’s go eat lunch.”

Which actually made me REALLY mad. Because I felt like if we couldn’t even get an 8-point Flubby picture, we’d definitely lose to the Fembots. And I didn’t want Jens to be okay with that—I wanted him to get mad and kick butt with me.

But before I could tell him that, I heard another inside-a-Flubby-head voice yell, “Hey! Kid!”

I turned around, and one of the other Flubbies was standing there. I’m not sure if it was one of the Flubbies who’d turned us down or a totally new Flubby. It’s very hard to tell them apart. ^{Ed. Note: may have been “angry Flubby” (see above)}

He said, “You wanna picture wit’ da cat?”

This Flubby had that kind of “Fuhgeddaboudit!” New York accent that cab drivers have in bad movies. (Which, BTW, is RIDICULOUS, because most NYC cab drivers are from foreign countries and don’t sound like that at all.)

I said, “Yes! Will you do it?”

Fuhgeddaboudit Flubby said, “Fifty bucks.”

Which was crazy, because I am not Athena Cohen. Plus it was impossible, because I only had twenty-three dollars on me. So I was about to say, “How about twenty?”

But then Spanish Flubby waved his big furry finger at Fuhgeddaboudit Flubby and yelled, “You cannot do this! You promise the girl! You take her money!”

Fuhgeddaboudit Flubby told Spanish Flubby to get lost. Only he used language you seriously do NOT want to hear coming from a Flubby. ^{Ed. Note: if any 3-year-olds heard him, they are probably scarred for life}

Spanish Flubby said something like, “Shame to you! Shame! You wear Flubby costume! You must have honor!”

Then Fuhgeddaboudit Flubby punched Spanish Flubby in the head.

I don’t think it hurt, because it wasn’t his real head. It was his giant fake head.

But then they started kicking each other, and THAT looked like it hurt.

Then they REALLY went at it. I freaked out and started screaming. I’m not sure if that was the right thing to do, but it’s not like I’d ever spent any time thinking about how I’d react if I saw two Flubbies beating each other up in Times Square.

While I was screaming, Jens took pictures.

JENS

At first, I thought, “This is very bad! We have to get away!”

But then I thought, “Two Fluubers fighting—probably I never see this in my life again. I should take pictures.”

CLAUDIA

Fortunately, it was Times Square, so there were two cops very close by. And when I screamed, they ran over and stopped the fight.

Then they asked us who started it. We told them Fuhgeddaboudit Flubby threw the first punch, so they put him in handcuffs.

Then we got out of there in a hurry, because I knew if they made us go to the police station to make a statement, we’d never get back to the hunt.

For the record, though, I’d like to point out that the Flubby-on-Flubby violence never would have happened if Athena Cohen hadn’t paid all the Flubbies off in the first place.

I’d also like to point out that we didn’t get the 8-point Flubby photo. And without it, Team Melting Pot was basically doomed.

Unless we could somehow come up with a brilliant, game-changing plan.

But that’s a story for another chapter. ^{Ed. Note: (specifically,} Chapter 18)