NINE

I’m Cranky Frankie. Let me tell you what really happened . . .

I knocked on the door three times and no one came to open it.

I muttered some nasty words under my breath.

What were they trying to do, keep me out? Just because once in a while I lose my temper and use a few bad words?

Those bird-brained, pig-headed, jerk-faced sloth buckets know how much I like them. The dunder-faced idiots are my buddies—my best friends in the whole world. I wouldn’t hurt their feelings for anything . . . if I could help it.

I knocked again.

I could hear Adam Bomb’s voice shouting something about the neighbors. And I could hear Jonny Pantsfalldown on the TV.

Yeah, I had been there in the living room with them before. But I had to get out when Babbling Brooke started doing her cheers. I’ve been asked not to say anything bad about her cheerleading ability. So I don’t say anything.

I took a walk around the block, and when I came back, they wouldn’t let me in.

I knocked a fourth time, and finally Adam opened the front door.

He gawked at me like he’d never seen me before. “Oh, it’s you!” he cried.

“No, it’s Bazooka Joe,” I said, and pushed past him and into the house. Everyone was in the living room. They all looked shocked.

“Don’t stare at me like bug-eyed toads,” I said. “I live here, too, you know.”

“Wh-why did you knock?” Adam stammered. He still looked pale and shaky.

“I forgot my key,” I said.

“We don’t use keys,” Adam replied. “The door is always open.”

“Oh, I forgot,” I said.

I turned around and Luke Puke followed me into the house.

“Why are you back so soon?” I demanded. “I thought you had a hurling match at school.”

Luke frowned at me. “Coach Swettypants sent me home. He said I couldn’t puke with the team today.”

Adam blinked. “Why?”

“Because I have an upset stomach.”

Adam nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Do you know the cure for an upset stomach?” Handy Sandy asked.

Luke turned to her. “No, what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I was asking you.”

I wrestled Junkfood John to the floor and took his place on the couch. Then I grabbed his bowl of pretzel-covered pretzels and finished them off for him. I even chewed the last one right in his face so he could see how much I was enjoying it.

“Help yourself to my pretzels, Frankie,” he said. I think he was being sarcastic, but I didn’t pay any attention.

Babbling Brooke came striding to the center of the room. She smiled at Luke and said, “I’ve been practicing some new cheers. I’m going to be a cheerleader for your hurling team.”

“Brooke, we don’t have time—” Adam said.

But she leaped into the air, swung her hands high, and began the cheer anyway.

“HURL IT UP! HURL IT UP! WAAAAY UP!

“SMELLVILLE IS GONNA ROCK YOU.

“SMELLVILLE IS GONNA SHOCK YOU.

“DA DA DA DADADA DA DA! DA DA DA DA.

“YAAAAAY!”

She clapped her hands and finished with a split. Then she grinned. “What do you think, Luke?”

“Brooke,” Luke said, “what are all the ‘da da da’s at the end?”

“I haven’t finished it,” she replied. “But do you like it?”

I spoke up before Luke could answer. “I like it as much as pounding a six-inch nail into my forehead.”

“Oh, thank you!” she cried happily, clapping her hands.