FIVE
My friends were scattered around the living room. No one looked up.
Wacky Jackie, Rob Slob, and Junkfood John were staring at the TV watching their favorite superhero show, Jonny Pantsfalldown.
It’s a pretty good show. I’ve watched it a few times. Although it always ends the same way: Jonny’s pants fall down.
Jackie, Rob, and John laugh like lunatics at every episode. And they never guess the ending!
Nervous Rex was sitting by himself in a corner reading a book called How to Calm Down in 30 Seconds. I don’t think it was working. The book was shaking in Rex’s hands.
Brainy Janey sat on the edge of the couch staring into space. She’s such a serious brainiac. I knew she was thinking hard about something. Or maybe she was just pretending. How can you tell, when someone is as smart as Janey?
Handy Sandy had a soccer ball in her lap. The ball had lost a lot of air. She was trying to repair it with a wrench. Sometimes Sandy isn’t as handy as she thinks she is.
“Listen up!” I screamed. “Come on. Listen to me. We need to talk!”
Wacky Jackie and Junkfood John giggled at the TV screen. John had a big snack bowl on his lap. His favorite snack is pretzel-covered pretzels. But John will snack on just about anything. I once saw him gobble up mouse droppings off the carpet. It’s really hard to unsee something like that.
“PLEASE! LISTEN TO ME!” I screamed.
A few heads turned toward me.
“Shut your yap!” Cranky Frankie shouted. He was just being Cranky Frankie. That’s his favorite expression. He even says it when he wakes up in the morning.
I realized we weren’t all here. “Where is Luke Puke?” I asked. “Anyone see Luke?”
“He had a hurling match after school,” Handy Sandy said.
Luke is a star of the hurling team. The team is in the citywide Competitive Puking League.
Luke Puke has been puking since he was a little kid. Coach Swettypants says Luke could be an all-state champ in the 300-meter projectile event.
Most hurlers warm up by sticking their finger down their throat. But give Luke a good punch in the stomach and he’s ready to compete. He’s a great athlete. I’ve even seen him hurl on an empty stomach!
“Let me tell you what I heard,” I started. But before I could go any further, Babbling Brooke came bursting into the room.
“I’ve got to get back to school,” she said. “I have cheerleader tryouts for the hurling team.”
“Shut your yap,” Cranky Frankie muttered.
“How can you be a hurling team cheerleader?” Brainy Janey asked. “They don’t allow anyone to watch the matches.”
“Why?” Brooke demanded.
“Because as soon as the team starts to puke, the audience joins in. They can’t help themselves.”
“I don’t care,” Brooke said. “They need cheerleaders.”
I took a deep breath. “Please, everyone—listen to me!” I repeated. “I have something important to tell you!”
“Let me show you my team cheers,” Brooke said. “Everybody stand back. What do you think of this one? I wrote it myself.”
She raised her hands above her head and began to jump and cheer:
“SMELLVILLE, SMELLVILLE, WE’RE SO HOT!
“GO AHEAD, HURLERS. GIVE ’EM ALL YOU GOT!”
That cheer ended in a split. Brooke quickly picked herself up. Breathing hard, she leaped into the air and began a second cheer:
“GO SMELLVILLE! GO SMELLVILLE!
“OUR HURLERS ARE THE TOP!
“WHEN WE LEAVE THE ROOM,
“YOU’LL NEED MORE THAN ONE MOP!”
Brooke wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of one hand. Then she grinned at me. “Adam, what do you think?”
“I think we’re all in serious trouble,” I said. “Let me tell you what I heard in school today. I heard that Mr. and Mrs. Perfect are coming to our house. I think—”
But that’s as far as I got.
I stopped when I heard a loud, hard knock on the front door.
“It’s the Perfects!” I cried. “We’re dead meat!”