TWENTY

I’m Babbling Brooke. It’s my turn to tell this story now . . .

I was standing next to Junkfood John in line at the school cafeteria, when he got into a fight with one of the lunch helpers.

“Fritos is definitely a vegetable!” John insisted.

“First I’ve ever heard of it,” the woman replied without changing her expression.

She had a long white apron over her clothes and wore a net over her short brown hair. In her hand was a big scoop, and she was dishing out macaroni and cheese to anyone who wanted some.

A white name tag pinned to her apron read: ANNIE.

“Potato chips come from potatoes, right?” John asked.

Annie nodded.

“Well,” John reasoned, “Fritos come from Frito trees. They’re harvested like any other vegetable.”

Annie sneered at him. “Guess you’ve done a lot of research,” she said.

John nodded. “Did you know pretzels are considered a fruit,” he asked. “Like Froot Loops. And I’m pretty sure popcorn comes from the leaves of cucumber bushes.”

“Thanks for all that useful information,” Annie said, tapping her big scoop on the counter. “Can I ask you a question, young man? You came here from what planet?”

Junkfood John didn’t get a chance to answer.

Because that’s when a food fight broke out.

And that’s when I began to worry about Cranky Frankie.