CHAPTER 27

Jacob

One kid in Classroom 13 knew TV better than he knew the freckles on the back of his hand. (Oddly enough, one of those freckles was shaped like a TV.) That kid was Jacob Jones.

Lucy sat on his desk and said, “I like your face. You should be on TV.”

“I don’t know,” Jacob said. “I’ve had a taste of celebrity life, and it wasn’t as great as I’d hoped. You can’t go anywhere without people recognizing and harassing you. It’s kind of awful.”

“What if you could be famous without people seeing your face?” Lucy asked with a sly smile.

“I’m listening.…” Jacob said, intrigued.

“By any chance, do you like Mario’s Meatballs & Spaghetti?”

“The ones that come in a can? I love it! I eat it for dinner all the time!” Jacob said.

And so Lucy cast Jacob in a commercial—but not as himself. He wore a costume that transformed him into a mascot for his favorite canned spaghetti. As Meatball Mario, Jacob became a singing, dancing stack of meatballs covered in spaghetti. His character would dance under a shower of Parmesan cheese and sing songs to entice kids to eat his canned goods. At the end of each commercial, fireworks would explode all around him as he said his tagline:

“Mario’s Meatballs are magically mouthwatering!”

Jacob loved the idea. He got to be on TV during his favorite shows, but he didn’t have to put up with any fans chasing him around town.

But after a few hours of actual work, Jacob could barely breathe. It was so hot inside the suit, he would sweat like a man crossing the Sahara without water. All that sweating made his face break out in pimples. And it made him stink, too. After filming, he didn’t want to be seen—or smelled—in public. And when the fireworks went off, he almost always got burned.

Needless to say, Jacob wasn’t happy.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Jacob told Lucy. “I’ve lost twenty pounds, I stink every day, and my face looks like a pizza.”

“Do you want to do pizza commercials, too?” Lucy asked.

“No!” Jacob said. “I don’t want this job anymore. It’s not as fun as I thought it would be.”

“Sorry, kid,” Lucy said. “You signed a lifetime contract to appear in Meatball Mario commercials. You’ll be doing this for the rest of your life.”

So, dear reader, the next time you see a funny commercial on TV with someone inside a costume, think of Jacob. You may be laughing at the commercial and enjoying yourself, but the actor inside that costume is sweaty and stinky and they are not having a good time.

That’s TV for you.