Chapter Five
What Does a Car Taste Like?

The next morning before the bell rang, Tom saw Johnny and Stu standing beside a car in the school parking lot. Their backpacks lay on the ground in front of them.

“Hey, Tom,” Stu said. “Johnny is a big fat chicken.”

Johnny shook his head. “I am not.”

“You are too,” Stu said. “I even double-dog dared you, and you wouldn’t do it.”

Johnny shook his head again. “I am not.”

“Why is he a big fat chicken?” Tom asked. “What did you double-dog dare him to do?”

“I double-dog dared him to lick the bumper of this old car,” Stu said. Stu pointed at the car beside them.

“That doesn’t make him a chicken,” Tom said. “That makes him smart. Everybody knows on a cold day like this your tongue would freeze to the bumper.”

“No,” Stu said, “it won’t.”

“I remember a kid who licked the flagpole,” Tom said. “He was stuck there for a long time.”

“That’s a flagpole,” Stu explained. “Flagpoles don’t have chrome.”

Stu pointed at the bumper. It was shiny and made of chrome.

“Magnets stick to flagpoles,” Stu said. “Magnets don’t stick to chrome. Chrome is different,” Stu explained. “A person’s tongue won’t stick to chrome.”

“Really?” Tom asked.

“Sure,” Stu said. “Watch this.”

Stu got on his hands and knees. He leaned forward and licked the chrome bumper. His tongue did not stick. Stu got up again. “See?”

Tom laughed. “I guess that does make Johnny a big fat chicken.”

“You do it then, Tom,” Johnny said. “I dare you. No, I double-dog dare you.”

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Stu told Johnny. “Now Tom’s going to do it, and Connie will hear that you chickened out.”

“Okay, Tom,” Johnny said, “I take back the double-dog dare.”

“Too late,” Tom said. “When Connie hears you’re a big fat chicken, she’ll decide to go to the dance with me.”

Tom got on his hands and knees and crawled toward the bumper. He leaned his head forward. He stuck his tongue out and licked the bumper.

Tom’s tongue instantly froze to the bumper.

“Aaaaack!” Tom said.

“Don’t yank your tongue loose,” Johnny said. “You’ll rip the skin off. I saw a little kid do that once after he was stupid enough to lick a flagpole.”

“Aaaaack!” Tom said. Then he said something that sounded like “help.” It was hard to understand him. Most of his tongue was stuck to the bumper.

“I think he’s saying ‘help,’” Johnny said. “Just wait. I have something in my backpack that might be helpful.”

Johnny kneeled beside his backpack and opened it. He pulled out a camera and started taking photos of Tom with his tongue stuck to the bumper.

“Aaaaaack!” Tom said.

“I agree,” Johnny said. “You do look silly. And when Connie sees these photos, she’ll know I’m the one she should dance with at the Valentine’s fundraiser.”

“Aaaaaack!” Tom said.

“What’s that?” Johnny asked. “How come Stu’s tongue didn’t stick to the bumper?”

Johnny pulled out a tube of Vaseline. “This stuff is greasy and it doesn’t freeze. We put it on the part of the bumper that Stu licked. His tongue just slid off the grease.”

Johnny took a bunch of photos of Tom on his hands and knees with his tongue stuck to the bumper of the car.

“Aaaaaack!” Tom said.

“It’s hard to understand you,” Johnny said. “But I think you want help, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Tom said, on his hands and knees. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“Okay,” Johnny answered. “We’ll go into the school and ask a teacher to come and pour warm water over your tongue. Then you’ll be unstuck.”

Johnny looked at Stu. “We should ask Mr. Wright, shouldn’t we? Isn’t this his car?”