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Max's professional comedy debut at the Giggle Factory was scheduled for Sunday afternoon at two o'clock. Mr. Lugnitz was so excited to have Max on his roster that he made an exception to the club's "no kids" rule. Max's famous audition tape had made the rounds of every newscast on the continent, and the place was packed. Barry Robson may have been the official Funniest Kid in America, but nobody had ever heard of him. In the tri-county area at least, Maxx Comedy was a household word.
It seemed like half of Bartonville Middle School
was there. Many paid tribute to Max's audition tape by appearing in cow hats, waving pictures of cows, ringing cowbells, and holding up hand-lettered moo signs. The drink of the day was, of course, milk— chocolate, strawberry, and straight up.
In the front row, in specially reserved seats, were Maude, Sydni, and Big, closest friends of the headliner.
Big Byrd was wearing his ascot again. As the cameraman of the famous audition tape, he had decided that his film career was finally taking off, so he intended to look the part.
Sydni was glancing nonchalantly over her shoulder, trying to see if any of the student council was in attendance. Her star was rising in school government again, thanks to Max. He had pledged some of today's appearance fee to repay the eighty-five dollars from Maude's leather pants. Sure enough, quite a few members were there. But, Sydni noted with a sigh, Amanda Locke was not one of them.
She felt a tap on her arm, and turned to see none other than Kelly Latanzia, the student-council president. Eighth-grade Kelly was the most popular girl in school, not to mention Amanda Locke's boss! She had never spoken directly to Sydni before.
Kelly was oozing charm. "We just wanted to thank you for all the great work you've been doing for the student council. Keep it up. We've got our eyes on you."
"Uh—you're welcome," Sydni stammered in amazement. What was going on here? Amanda hated her guts. Yet here was the top dog herself being so nice. "Sorry for all the—you know—all that."
"Ancient history," Kelly assured her, dismissing the past with a wave of her hand. "We're focusing on new stuff now. Like Harvest Festival. I hope you'll help us with the student council's booth." She added meaningfully, "You and Max."
"Of course!" Sydni beamed. "I've got tons of ideas! Big can be our official videographer! And Maude can—"
"Well, it's a pretty small booth," Kelly cut her off. "We don't want to let it get too crowded."
"But Big's a fantastic cameraman," Sydni insisted. "And Maude's a good worker—if you don't put her in charge of any money."
Kelly leaned forward confidentially. "The truth is, Sydni, you're okay, and Max is practically famous. But this is a student-council thing, and we don't
want to let too many sixth graders in on it. You know what I mean."
Sydni flushed, staring at the president in sudden understanding. Kelly didn't want her. She was just using her to get to Max, who was a celebrity because of the contest. Maude and Big didn't even make the guest list.
"Sorry, Kelly," she said briskly, "I'm pretty sure I'm going to be washing my hair all those days. I just signed up with the President's Council on In-School Civility, and they have a strict no-snob policy."
Kelly's jaw dropped. "We didn't want you anyway!" she seethed, storming away.
Big gave a long whistle of admiration through his left sinus tube. "Whoa, Sydni, that was huge! You just blew off the big enchilada!"
"It was awesome," added Maude.
Calm down, Sydni told herself, her pounding heartbeat resounding in her ears. She may have just insulted the entire student council, but there was still Amanda Locke. All Sydni needed was another chance to talk to her. . . .
Backstage, Max was living his dream. This was even better than winning the contest. The sight of his
name on the marquee outside the Giggle Factory had put a smile on his face so wide that his cheeks hurt. It was impossible to frown. He actually tried, but he couldn't force the corners of his mouth to turn down. It was almost as if Fate were making up for all the rotten luck that had dogged him these past few weeks.
Whatever the reason, he was about to perform for an adoring crowd. True, they were only fans because of a bizarre and almost terrible mistake. But it had turned out great. Better than great. Perfect.
Mr. Lugnitz was happy too. "It's a packed house out there. Max! How do you feel, kid?"
"Awesome!" exclaimed Max. It was the understatement of the year.
Ronny Lugnitz was there with his uncle. "I gotta hand it to you, Carmody. I always thought you were a total loser." He took a swig of his AMP cola. "But that cow routine—me and Lorelei were laughing our heads off! And to think I dumped out my humidifier on you! How cool is that?"
"Thanks," said Max. A star had to be gracious.
Mr. Lugnitz checked his watch. "Okay. Two o'clock. Showtime."
He stepped out from the wings and instantly
drew a spotlight. "Welcome to the Giggle Factory, the tri-county area's only family comedy club. Let's give a warm welcome to Bartonville's own Maxx Comedy !"
For the first time, Max took center stage, amid thunderous applause and full-throated mooing from the audience.
He hefted the microphone. "Thank you, thank you—"
And then, from the wings, Ronny Lugnitz spotted Big Byrd sitting in the front row.
"That's him!" came a roar that drowned out even Max's ovation. "That's the guy who was hitting on Lorelei!"
So, instead of his carefully crafted opening joke, Max began his comedy career with: "Run, Big! He's going to kill you!"
Ronny sprang across the stage, almost knocking Max over. AMP cola sprayed everywhere.
In a tangle of long arms and legs, Big Byrd scrambled out of his seat a split second before Ronny's fist got there.
"What did I do?" the tall boy howled, his nasal tubes whining in harmony with his words. But although he was pretty sure of his innocence, Big
was taking no chances. He made a beeline for the exit, his imitation-silk ascot flapping behind him. Ronny was in hot pursuit.
Max made a frantic effort to set things right. "Ronny, no! I was lying! Nobody was hitting on Lorelei! I just had to get you to come to school!"
But Ronny Lugnitz in attack mode was impossible to call off. When Big heaved himself through the heavy exit door, Ronny was right on his tail, bellowing threats.
The dilemma almost tore Max in two. On the one hand there was the audience that he had been waiting for his entire life. On the other, there was Big, facing a shellacking at the hands of the toughest eighth grader in school. And it was all because of Max.
With a cry of, "I'll be back, okay?" he was off the stage and out the door.
Sydni was right behind him. "Max, are you crazy1"
"Wait up, guys!" called Maude. "I've got flat feet!" She joined the chase, barreling headlong into a sign painted on a pink bedsheet. As she plowed straight ahead, the banner snagged in her belt buckle, billowing behind her like Batman's cape:
MAXX COl/l/MEDY.
Behind them in the Giggle factory, an uneasy murmur and a few chuckles rippled through the audience.
“Don't worry!" called Mr. Lugnitz. "It's all part of the act! Show's not over—I hope."
Strung out in a line like the leaders in a marathon, the runners pounded across the parking lot and down the sidewalk—Big, Ronny, Max, Sydni, and Maude.
"Okay, Romeo!" howled Ronny. "Now you're gonna pay!"
Suddenly, a black streak darted up the street and fell in beside Big, matching his speed.
Even in his moment of peril, Big was glad to see the newcomer. "Darth! We're in trouble, man! How come you can never find a Death Star when you need one?"
The cat meowed sympathetically and kept pace.
A hulking SUV roared up beside them. The back window rolled down, and Amanda Locke stuck her head out.
"Darth! Come home! We've got Cat Yummies for you, sweetie!"
"Amanda, can I talk to you about something?" shrieked Sydni from twenty feet behind the car.
"Faster, Mom, faster!" Ninth grader Madison Locke appeared beside her sister. Her eyes fell on Maude, hop-skipping at the back of the pack as the brisk wind wrapped the banner around her legs. "Nice pants!"
Maybe it was a case of light-headedness brought on by sprinting in this procession. But Max couldn't shake the feeling that he was not part of the craziness, but watching from a distance. Comedians had to be observers, after all, to come up with good material.
All at once, he laughed out loud, and his labored strides became loose and easy. Sure, this was all completely nuts. But without insanity, where would the jokes come from?
And without jokes, how could you be the Funniest Kid in America?
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OSHAWA PUBLIC LIBRARY
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of Canada’s best-loved contemporary authors for young people, with more than fifty books to his credit, including Son of the Mob, The 6th Grade Nickname Game, and the Island, Everest, and Macdonald Hall series. He and his wife, a teacher, live in New York with their two children.
Jacket art © 2003 by fiiex Ferrari Visit www.scholastic.ca
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16 YEARS OLD OR YOUNGER
Are you always ready with a punch line? Do you tell a great joke?
Can you leave ’em laughing?
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A Live Televised Appearance on Comedy Planet
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