“No!” I yelled.
Boss Baby ignored me. “What’s that, Lam-Lam?” he asked. “You want a nose ring?”
Boss Baby punched a staple into Lam-Lam’s nose.
“Ah!” I yelled.
“And an eyebrow ring?” Boss Baby asked. “How’s that going to look in a job interview?”
He punched another staple above Lam-Lam’s eye! It was horrible!
I took the cassette tape out of the tape recorder. I couldn’t bear to see Lam-Lam get stapled. I looked at the tape in my hands. It was the only proof I had.
Boss Baby started to pull on Lam-Lam’s arms. “The tape, Timmy, or I’m gonna rip, rip, rip . . .”
I didn’t want to give the tape to Boss Baby. But I didn’t want to lose Lam-Lam, either. I lunged forward, grabbing Lam-Lam’s head. I had a tug-of-war with Boss Baby. I pulled, he pulled, and poor Lam-Lam’s head ripped right off!
I was furious. I picked up Boss Baby and marched him into the living room. Then I plopped him into his bouncy baby jumper.
“Templeton, let’s be reasonable,” Boss Baby said, and he sounded nervous. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve been asking for this since you got here,” I told him as I rolled him toward the open living room window.
“We can talk about this over a juice box!” Boss Baby pleaded.
“The time for juice boxes is over,” I said firmly. “Say bye-bye, baby. You’re fired!”
Then I heard my Dad’s voice. “Tim, what are you doing?”
I spun around quickly, letting go of the bouncer. “Nothing,” I said innocently.
But Boss Baby was a fast thinker. He grabbed onto my shirt. Whoosh! The tape flew out the window, onto the street, and a car ran over it.
“My proof!” I yelled, running to the window.
Mom picked up Boss Baby. The other parents walked in, holding their babies. Everyone looked at me like I was some kind of monster.
“Tim, explain yourself,” Mom said, in her calm-but-mad voice.
“It wasn’t me,” I protested. “It was the baby’s fault!”
“The baby’s fault?” Dad asked.
“It’s true!” I blurted out. “He can talk. They can all talk. They were having a meeting. Something about puppies.”
“Timothy Leslie Templeton,” Mom said, using my middle name—so I knew she was really angry. And I saw Boss Baby smirk when she said it.
“We are very disappointed in you,” Dad said.
“No, we’re mad at you,” Mom corrected him.
“Mad?” I asked.
Dad nodded. “You need a time out.”
“You’re grounded!” Mom said, looking at Dad.
Dad agreed with her. “Yes, grounded . . . for two—”
“Three weeks!” Mom finished.
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Grounded?”
“You’re going to stay in this house with your baby brother until you learn to get along,” Mom said.
I groaned. I couldn’t imagine a worse punishment in the entire world!
* * *
That night, I stared at the bare walls of my cell. What had once been my bedroom was now a jail and I was sentenced to solitary confinement. Outside the cell, I could hear people enjoying life. I could hear them singing. . . .
“Little bird, don’t you cry, one day you will learn to fly. . . .”
“Hey, that’s my song,” I said sadly. And Mom and Dad weren’t singing it to me. I slumped down into bed.
Wizzie tried to help. “It’s okay, little halfling. Perhaps I could be of some assistance.”
Wizzie started to sing, but the words were all wrong.
“Thanks, Wizzie, but it’s not the same,” I told him.
“If only I could break us out of this big house,” Wizzie said in support.
A few minutes later, I heard someone whispering at my door.
“Templeton, we have to talk.” It was Boss Baby!
“Go away!” I hissed.
Boss Baby crawled into the room. He hopped onto my toy train and it carried him toward my bed. Then he started to sing in his weird grown-up voice.
“Little bird, don’t you cry . . .”
I sat up. “Stop it!” I told him. “That’s my song. My parents wrote it just for me, and you stole it! You’re trying to steal everything from me, even my parents! You’re the one who should be in jail.”
The train stopped. “Look, it’s time we put our differences aside.”
I couldn’t answer him. I was sniffling from crying. Boss Baby noticed.
“Hey, have you been—”
“No!” I said. I didn’t want that baby to see me cry.
Boss Baby climbed onto the bed. He put his hand on my shoulder. Then he held out a wad of money.
I pushed it away. “I don’t want your filthy money.”
“Look, I told you to stay out of my way,” Boss Baby said.
“I can’t,” I replied. “You’re in my house.”
“I don’t want you to be here anymore than you want me to be here,” Boss Baby said.
“Then why are you torturing me?” I asked.
Boss Baby leaned closer to me. “Well, the truth is, I’m no ordinary baby.”
“Well, no kidding,” I said.
“I’m on a mission from above,” he said. “I’m middle management for the company.”
“The company? What company?” I asked, although I suspected it had something to do with my dream.
Boss Baby reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue pacifier. He handed it to me. “Take this. It’ll explain everything.”
I eyed the pacifier suspiciously. “What do you want me to do with that?”
“It’s for you to suck,” he replied.
I made a face. “Yuck! I’m not sucking that. I don’t know where it’s been.”
“It’s not where it’s been. It’s where it will take you,” Boss Baby said, and then he put the pacifier in my hand. “Don’t you want to know where babies really come from?”
I have to admit, I was curious. My dream hadn’t told me much. If I wanted to get rid of Boss Baby, I needed to find out everything I could about him.
Boss Baby pulled out a red pacifier.
“Binky. Boo-Boo. Nuk-Nuk. It goes by many names, but through its power you will know the truth,” he said.
He had convinced me. He popped the red pacifier into his mouth, and I popped the blue one into mine. Then we both sucked our pacifiers, faster and faster, until a swirling vortex appeared and sucked us both inside!