Calling All Birdbrains (2 page)

I felt something warm and sticky plop into my hand. If only parrots could be housebroken!

“Lippy is a good-luck charm,” I explained, wiping my hand off on Crench's jeans. “I can't win without him.”

Feenman blinked. “You're joking, right?”

“No joke,” I said, tickling Lippy's back. “Haven't you dudes noticed? Every time I bring Lippy to a game, I win big-time.”

Feenman and Crench laughed. “Yeah. That bird really knows his cards,” Feenman said. “Maybe we
should let him deal!”

They both laughed some more.

“Go ahead and make fun,” I said. “But this parrot is totally lucky. And not just for card games. Every time he's with me, he brings me good luck.”

Lippy squawked and dropped a huge glob of green bird plop on the floor.

Feenman and Crench jumped away from it. “Bombs away!” Feenman cried.

“How lucky is
that
?” Crench said. “Bernie, get serious. That fat parrot is totally gross.”

“Oh, yeah?” I said. “You guys think you're so smart? Look what Lippy was trying to show me.”

I pointed to the floor. Next to the glob of bird plop was a dollar bill.

I picked it up and shoved it into my pocket. “See?” I said. “Someone dropped that money. And why did I find it? Because of Lucky Lippy!”

That made them both stop laughing. They stared at Lippy.

“No joke? That loudmouth pile of feathers is
lucky
?” Feenman said. “Hey—let me touch him. I want some luck to rub off on me!”

“Yo! Me too!” Crench cried.

They both pounced on Lippy at the same time. Feenman grabbed him around the neck. Crench grabbed the claws.

Crench shouted.

Feenman shouted back.

It was an ugly tug-of-war. Feathers flew everywhere. They stretched Lippy out until he was about six feet long!

“Both of you—let go of him!” I cried.

the parrot squawked.

I screamed. “Are you both
nuts
?” I grabbed my adorable pet back and hugged him to my chest. “Look what you
did
to him!”

I held up the poor parrot and examined him. Lippy had a big BALD SPOT on the back of his head.

“Look what you did! You SCALPED him!” I cried.

They both backed away. “We just rubbed him a little. You know. For luck,” Crench said.

I patted Lippy gently. “There, there,” I whispered. I had to chuckle. With that bald head, Lippy looked a
lot
like Headmaster Upchuck.

I turned back to my two buddies. “Just keep your paws off my lucky bird,” I said.

“No problem,” Feenman said, yawning. “See you back at the dorm, Big B.” They both shuffled out the door.

I held Lippy gently and tried to smooth his feathers. The poor guy didn't even realize he was bald now.

I set him carefully on my shoulder. Then I crept out the back door of the Student Center.

The morning sun was just coming up. A ribbon of red crossed the sky. The grass was still wet and shiny from the previous night's dew.

I couldn't wait to get back to my room in Rotten House and count my Uno winnings. Walking in the shade under the apple trees, I began trotting over the Great Lawn.

I was halfway across campus when I heard a chilling sound. A man's voice calling me.

I froze. Lippy froze, too.

I turned to see Mr. Skruloose running toward me. Mr. Skruloose is the Assistant Headmaster, and he's probably the toughest man on earth. He calls us all “soldier” and acts like we're at war.

Every morning at dawn, he goes on a ten-mile hike. Just for fun.

I took a deep breath as I watched Mr. Skruloose march toward me. Was I busted? Would Skruloose realize I'd been up all night?

He stopped about two inches in front of me. Sweat poured down his forehead. His big muscles rippled under the tight sleeves of his T-shirt.

he boomed. “Why are you up at six? And why do you have a parrot on your shoulder?”

He slowly lowered his face to mine. “You'd better have a good answer, Bridges.”