Dumb Clucks (5 page)

Joe Sweety picked me up by my shirt and pushed me against the wall.

“Want to watch some TV?” I gave him my best smile.

Sweety growled.

All the girls and Nyce House dudes mobbed me, shouting angrily.

I didn't like the way this was going. I'm a popular guy. Popular guys don't like to be pressed against a wall and mobbed.

“You got me wrong!” I shouted. “I
love
Drastic
Duck! He's my favorite duck! Really! He's so totally…
drastic
!”

 

“WAR!”

 

Sweety bellowed.

 

“WAR!”

“WAR! WAR! WAR!”

 

Even April-May was pumping her fists and chanting.

Didn't she know she was my girlfriend? Didn't she know she should be
helping
me?

“Punch him in the encyclopedia!” Wes Updood roared.

That dude is so cool. I wish I could understand him.

“Encyclopedia! Encyclopedia!” Updood started to chant.

But no one joined in on that one.

“Put me down! Put me down!” I shouted at Joe Sweety. “I have Danglephobia! It's very serious. I'm afraid of having my feet dangle in the air!”

Sweety pressed me harder against the wall.
“Sorry, Bernie,” he growled. “We have to defend Drastic Duck!” He pushed till it felt like his hand went right through me!

I was rapidly becoming Flat Bernie!

Could things get worse? Yes.

The mob went for my shirts. They knocked over the pile. Then they began grabbing them away.

“Not the shirts!” I cried. “Not the shirts! They cost me big bucks!”

What were these Nyce House creeps doing? I saw them passing around black markers. They spread the shirts on the floor.

They were
drawing
on them!

I couldn't believe it. They were drawing DUCKS all over my Stupid Chicken shirts!

 

“WAR! WAR! WAR!”

“Encyclopedia!

Encyclopedia!”

 

They quacked and chanted as they destroyed my shirts.

“I'm ruined!” I wailed. “Ruined!”

And then a booming, deep voice silenced everyone:

 

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

 

Joe Sweety let go of me, and I slid to the floor. Kids dropped the shirts and backed away in silence. They were all trembling.

 

“THAT'S BETTER!”

 

the voice boomed.

I lay in a flattened heap on the floor. I looked up and saw the owner of the voice. Jennifer! Jennifer Ecch!

Jennifer is the biggest, meanest, muscliest, hulkiest
girl in school. She's, like,
prehistoric
! I mean like those furry mastodons in our history textbook.

Jennifer once arm wrestled a
car
—and WON!

And did I forget to mention that The Ecch is totally in love with me?

Do you know how embarrassing it is to be in fourth grade and have the hulkiest, muscliest, biggest, meanest girl in school slobbering all over you with wet, smoochy kisses?

Well…tonight I was glad to see her.

She reached down, grabbed the collar of my shirt, and lifted me off the floor with one hand. “Are you okay, Lamby Nose?” she asked.

“Please don't call me Lamby Nose,” I begged.

She licked my arm for a minute or two. “You're so sweet, I could eat you up!” she gushed.

“Please don't,” I muttered.

She took a big bite out of my arm.

Memo to self: Remember to get more Band-Aids.

Then she jumped up and turned to the crowd of kids. “What's going on? Why are you all picking on Honey Face?” she snarled.

No one spoke. They were all too afraid to answer.

The Ecch gazed at the TV screen. “And why are you watching that stupid duck show?” she demanded.

“It's not stupid,” Joe Sweety said softly. “We kinda like Drastic Duck.”

 

“CHANGE THE CHANNEL!”

 

Jennifer roared. “Are you all crazy? You've got to watch the
best
show!”

“Wh-what's the best show?” Sherman asked.

Jennifer didn't reply. Instead she pulled back her school blazer. And we could all see her T-shirt:

POWER PIGEON
!

“Power Pigeon?” Joe Sweety cried. “You can't be serious, Ecch! You have to be a total
geek
to watch that fat pigeon. He eats
garbage
off the sidewalk!”

“Oh, yeah?” Jennifer sneered. “That's how he gets his COO-COO-COOURAGE!”

“Who wants a superhero that coos?” Sweety said.

“Only coo-coo-cool people!” Jennifer replied. “Let me show you a coo-coo-cool trick I learned on
Power Pigeon.
Did you ever see the episode called ‘Knots To You!'?”

She grabbed Sweety around the neck and lifted
him off the floor. Then she began twisting his arms and legs like he was a balloon animal.

In three seconds, she had him tied into a knot. “This is called a Double Shell Bend knot,” Jennifer said.

She grabbed Sweety's arms and tucked them around his legs. “And this is a Halyard knot. It's used a lot by fishermen and sailors. Now let me show you my favorite.”

She bent and twisted poor Joe's body. “This is a perfect Figure Eight knot,” she said. She held him up so everyone could see.

No lie. She bent Sweety into a perfect figure eight. If you put salt on him, he'd look just like a pretzel!

She dropped him to the floor. We all watched him roll away, dazed and defeated. I could hear him out in the hall trying to untangle himself.

“Jennifer—you can't DO that!” Sherman Oaks screamed.

“We have a right to watch
Drastic Duck
!” Flora Peevish shouted. “It's in the Constitution!”

“Oh, yeah?” the Ecch boomed. She made a move
toward Flora. But Angel Goodeboy jumped between them.

Angel looks a lot like an angel. He has shiny blond hair and a round face with pink cheeks and sparkling blue eyes. Sometimes I look for a halo floating over his head.

Angel smiled warmly at Jennifer. “Why can't we all just get along?” he asked. “Let's all be kind to each other.”

“I'll show you
my
idea of kind,” Jennifer cried.

She lifted Angel off his feet and began shifting his arms and legs. She finished by tucking his head into his body. Then she held him up for everyone to see.

“Look. A box turtle!” Jennifer said.

She set him on the floor, and Angel crawled away slowly.

“Anyone else want to say something bad about the Pigeon of Plutonium?” Jennifer demanded.

“A lightbulb only screws in one way,” Wes Updood said.

“Oh,
yeah
?” Jennifer cried.

She dove at Wes. She grabbed his arms and
started to bend him.

But April-May June and her friend Sharonda Davis leaped onto Jennifer. They tugged her off Wes, pushed her to the floor, and tried to sit on her.

And that's when things got out of control.

Some kids started chanting:

 

“WAR! WAR! WAR!”

 

Another group began chanting the Drastic Duck Chant:

 

“Drastic is Fantastic!

Drastic is Fantastic!”

 

Some of my Rotten House friends came into the TV room and began blucking their heads off.

 

BLUCK BLUCK BLUCK

GLUCK LUCK BLUCK BLUCK!

 

That made the Drastic fans quack.

 

QUACK BLUCK COO

 

Louder. Louder. Quacking and blucking till the floor vibrated and the walls shook.

 

Quack Bluck

 

“Buffalo Wings of Steel!” someone shouted.

 

Coo BLUCK QUACK

 

“Webbed Feet of Wonder!”

 

BLUCK Quack COO

 

“Stupid Chicken is a featherbrain!”

 

QUACK BLUCK COO

 

“Stupid Chicken will roast Drastic Duck on a spit!”

 

Quack Bluck

 

“Power Pigeon is Coo-Coo-Coolossal!”

 

COO BLUCK

 

BLUCK Quack Coo

 

“QUACK QUACK QUACK ATTACK!”

 

COO Coo Bluck

 

“BLUCK BLUCK—You're outta LUCK!”

 

BLUCK QUACK COO

 

Then it got REALLY UGLY. With everyone pushing and shoving and twisting and bending and quacking and blucking and fighting and flapping and crying and crowing.

And three guesses who walked in.

You got it. Headmaster Upchuck.

“Bernie,” he said. “What's going on here?”

A hush fell over the room. A few feathers floated down from the ceiling. Nothing else moved.

“What's going on in here?” The Upchuck repeated, glaring at me.

“Nothing, sir,” I said. “Just keeping things calm and quiet.”

He glared at me some more.

“Keeping it calm and quiet the way you wanted, sir,” I said. “We're just hanging out here calmly and quietly. Watching some science shows on TV. You know. Our favorite wildlife documentaries.”

He scratched his bald head. “Science documentaries?”

“Yes, it's Newt Week,” I said. “We always try to catch the shows about newts. It's like a thrill.”

I'm not sure the Headmaster believed me. He gave me the evil eye. “I'm watching you, Bernie. And guess what? I've been practicing cartwheels. Know why?”

“Why, sir?” I asked.

“Because I'm going to do cartwheels across the Great Lawn when I send you home for good!”

“That won't be necessary, sir,” I said.

“Remember, Bernie,” Upchuck said, “calm and quiet till Parents' Day—or ELSE!” He made a slicing motion across his throat.

“No prob, sir,” I said. I flashed him a sharp salute. “We all love calm and quiet around here.”

As soon as he was out the door, the war started up again. Clucking and blucking, quacking and hacking, pushing and pecking, flapping and flipping.

Read my lips—it was ugly.

The next afternoon, I sat daydreaming in Mrs. Heinie's class. I dreamed about making big money by selling chickens and ducks to Chef Baloney in the dining hall.

Billy the Brain was talking. There's a kid in every class who does all the talking—right? In our class, Billy should be called Billy the Mouth!

“Chickens are very interesting animals,” Billy was telling the class. “Did you know that they are actually
hunting
birds? They've just forgotten how to hunt.”

Mrs. Heinie yawned. “That's very interesting, Billy,” she said.

Billy wasn't finished. “Did you know that chickens are the only animals who prefer to take a bath rather than a shower?”

Mrs. H. frowned at him. “Billy, that's a crock,” she said.

“Thank you,” Billy replied. “Do you know why chickens only have three toes? Because they're born that way.”

“That's enough,” Mrs. Heinie snapped. She tossed a piece of chalk across the room and hit Billy right between the eyes.

“I assigned a short story last night,” she said. “How many of you read one?” She squinted at us through her thick glasses.

No hands went up.

Mrs. H. picked up another piece of chalk. But she couldn't decide who to throw it at. “Why didn't anyone read a story?” she demanded.

Feenman raised his hand. “Mrs. H.,” he said, “there was a
Stupid Chicken
marathon on Chickelodeon last night. Six new episodes.”

“Who cares?” Joe Sweety shouted. “The Duckscovery Channel showed four hours of
Drastic Duck
. When it was over, my eyes were burning. I couldn't read.”

Crench cupped his hands around his mouth. “Drastic Duck is
fowl
!” he shouted.

“Stupid Chicken eats DIRT!” Flora Peevish yelled.

“Can't we all just get along?” Angel Goodeboy asked.

 

“BLUCK BLUCK BLUCK BLUCK!”

“QUACK QUACK QUAAAAAACK!”

 

“Quiet, everyone!” Mrs. Heinie screamed. “Quiet! This is a classroom—not a barnyard!”

 

“MOOOOOOOO!”

 

Beast exclaimed. The dude is on his own planet. Mrs. H. keeps him on a leash. But that doesn't keep him from mooing when he feels like it.

“You all have book reports to give,” Mrs. Heinie said. “Let's start with Crench.”

Crench ducked low in his seat and tried to pretend he wasn't there. Mrs. Heinie had to drag him to the front of the class.

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. He cleared his throat.

“The book that I read was called
Stupid Chicken vs. Mongoose Fellow
,” he said. “It was very exciting. And I'd recommend it to anyone who likes Stupid Chicken.”

Mrs. Heinie took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “That sounds a lot like a comic book,” she said. She waved for Crench to sit down.

“Nosebleed, you're next,” she said. “I hope you read something better.”

“I can't give my book report,” Nosebleed said. “I have a nosebleed.”

Mrs. H. called on April-May June next. April-May bounced to the front of the room. She tossed her blond ponytail behind her head.

“My book is called
Drastic Duck Battles Pond Scum
,” she said. “It's a very good story about—”

“Stop!” Mrs. Heinie cried. “Did
everyone
in this class read comic books? Didn't
anyone
read a real book?”

No hands. Finally, Billy the Brain spoke up. “I read a
manga
comic in the original Japanese,” he said.

“What was it about?” Mrs. H. asked.

Billy shrugged. “Beats me. It was in Japanese!”

Mrs. Heinie let out a shriek and tore at her hair with both hands. “This chicken and duck thing has gone too far!” she screamed.

Not far enough
, I thought to myself.

So far, I hadn't made a DIME from it. I had to find a way to raise cash for the parents' snacks and refreshments. If I didn't, The Upchuck would be doing cartwheels across the Great Lawn!

What could I do?

Believe it or not, I got
big help
that afternoon from Angel Goodeboy!