Stink and the Freaky Frog Freakout (Book #8) (4 page)

BOOK: Stink and the Freaky Frog Freakout (Book #8)
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“Hardee-har-har,” said Stink.

*   *   *

Stink could not wait till swimming was over. He had a freaking great idea for how to learn frog sounds. He would need a comb, a balloon, two rocks, a can of spray paint, a rubber band, a rubber duck, some jingle bells, and that’s all.

Stink blew up the balloon and rubbed it with his hand. He clicked rocks together. He twanged a rubber band.

Judy poked her head into Stink’s room. Mouse squeezed past her. “Stink, I’m trying to study my times tables and I can’t hear myself —” She stopped when she saw the pile of junk on Stink’s floor.

“What? I’m using this stuff to make frog sounds. Here. I’ll show you.” Stink rubbed his finger along the teeth of a comb. “This sounds like a chorus frog.” Stink shook the can of spray paint. “And this sounds like a Northern cricket frog.”

Mouse darted under the bed.

“And this —
AARGH!
— sounds like Mom when she sees the mess in your room,” said Judy.

“Hardee-har-har,” chuckled Stink. “You’re
croaking
me up!”

“Can you please shut your door so I don’t have to hear Froggle Rock all day?”

*   *   *

Stink squeaked his rubber duck down the stairs. He snored up a storm while he made a snack. He shook the can of paint, clicked the stones, and jingled the bells. “Wood frog, pickerel frog, cricket frog,” he recited.

“Stink, keep it down, please,” said Dad, poking his head around the corner. “I’m on the phone.”

“No spray-painting in the house,” said Mom. “Take that outside.”

“I’m not painting,” said Stink. “Doesn’t anybody around here know a Northern cricket frog when they hear one?”

Mom crinkled her forehead.

“It’s homework,” said Stink. “I have to take a test.”

“A
frog
test,” said Judy, coming into the kitchen.

“I have to learn frog calls,” said Stink. “For the First Annual Frog Neck Lake Frog Count on Friday.”

“Riigggght,” said Mom.

“It’s a real thing. The test is on the computer,” Stink told her. “You click on a frog and it makes a sound. Then you guess which frog is making that sound.”

“Multiple choice?” said Judy. “Easy peasy,” she teased.

“I have a multiple choice for you,” said Mom. “You can go back upstairs and a) finish your homework, b) finish your homework, c) finish your homework, or d) all of the above.”

“But —” Stink protested.

“It’s your choice,” Mom said.

Stink trudged back up the stairs, with Judy close behind.

“And don’t forget your NON-frog homework, too,” Mom called.

*   *   *

In Stink’s room, Mouse curled up on his backpack. “How am I gonna learn all these frog calls by Tuesday?” Stink asked Judy. He held out his notebook for her to see. “You can’t go on the frog count unless you pass the quiz. Jasper said.”

“I’ll help you,” said Judy. “But let’s make it a game. Instead of Rock, Paper, Scissors, we’ll call it . . . Rock, Balloon, Squeak Toy.”

“How do we play?”

“Close your eyes. I’ll make a sound. You guess which frog it is. But we have to keep it down because Mom won’t like us doing
frog
homework first.”

“Okay, c’mon,” said Stink. He squeezed his eyes shut. Judy rubbed the balloon. She twanged the rubber band. She clicked the stones.

“Mrrow!” Mouse pawed at the stones.

“Chorus frog. Wood frog. Cricket frog,” Stink guessed.

Judy checked Stink’s notebook. “Sorry. Leopard frog. Green frog. Cricket frog.”

Stink hung his head.

“Hey, you got one right. Cricket frog. C’mon, Stink. Just get super-duper quiet. And really listen. Okay. Ready?”

“Ready, Freddy,” said Stink.

Judy rubbed, clicked, squeaked, and twanged.

“Balloon, stones, squeak toy, rubber band,” Stink said. “That’s leopard frog, cricket frog, spring peeper, green frog.”

“Bingo!” said Judy. She laughed, chuckled, whistled, peeped, snored, squeaked, jingled, and croaked until Stink knew pickerel frog from peeper, chorus frog from cricket.

“Yikes,” said Judy, putting a
shh
-finger to her lips. “I bet they can hear us all the way at the end of Croaker Road.”

“Do you think they call our street Croaker Road because of all the frogs?”

“Because of animal frogs, Stink, not human boy frogs.”

“Ribbet!” Stink croaked.

“Okay, close your eyes. I bet I can stump you. Ready?” Judy made a
zzzzz
sound.

“Bullfrog. No. Wood frog. No. Bullfrog.” He opened his eyes.

“Zipper frog,” said Judy. “That was just me zipping the zipper on your backpack.”

“No fair,” said Stink. “There’s no such thing as a zipper frog.”

“Mrrr-ow!” Mouse pounced on the jingle bells.

“Jingle frog!” Stink and Judy said at the same time. They cracked themselves up.

“We gotta finish our NOT-frog homework, Stink. Besides, you’re like the Frog King now. No, you’re like President of the Frogs. Now you just have to practice on real frogs.”

“Sque-enk!” said Stink.

On Tuesday, Stink Moody, Frog Genius, passed his test with flying colors. Frog test, that is.

Now if only he could pass a put-your-head-under-the-water swimming test, too. On Wednesday, Stink got wet up-to-but-not-including his nose. He dipped his left
and
right ear in the water. He leaned way back and got his hair wet.

“Go, Stink,” said Cammy, his swim teacher. “Now let’s see if you can blow bubbles.” Stink blew bubbles with his mouth. He almost-just-about-not-quite blew bubbles with his nose.

Almost!

Someday, Stink would even get his eyeballs wet. He wished he had gills, like a tadpole. He wished he could breathe through his skin like a frog.
Ribbet!

*   *   *

Stink could not wait for Frog Friday. At last, it was Friday night. Frog night. Time for the First Annual Frog Neck Lake Frog Count.

At three minutes before sunset, Stink loaded up his backpack. Flashlight. Backup flashlight. Pen. Thermometer. Timer. Tape recorder. At seven minutes after sunset, Stink called Frog Assistant Number One and Frog Assistant Number Two (aka Webster and Sophie of the Elves.)

“Meet me at the Frog Neck Lake parking lot. T-minus twenty-seven minutes and counting.”

When Dad dropped him off, Stink ran over to Sophie and Webster. The parking lot was humming with frog counters. There was a white-haired guy wearing a headlamp, a couple with matching T-shirts that said
VIRGINIA IS FOR FROGS
, and a teenager with froggy rain boots.

“People sure are freaky for frogs, huh?” said Webster.

Jasper waved Stink over. “Stink! Thanks for coming, dude. You guys are right on time. Hey, before I forget, I have something for you.” He handed Stink a plastic bag with two comic books. “I had a couple extras. Thought you might like them.”

“Amazing Spider-Man Comic Book Number 414:
From Darkness Strikes — Delilah!
Whoa! She’s the one who brought Dr. Octopus back to life.”

“In the other one,” said Jasper, “Spidey shrinks down to spider-size.”

“Wow! Thanks!” Stink put them away in his backpack for safekeeping.

“And . . . here’s your official Frog Log,” said Jasper.

“Frog Log. Cool beans!” said Stink.

Jasper showed Stink where to write down the time and the temperature. “And don’t forget sky, rain, and wind conditions.”

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