Got Cake?

  BELZER IS A SPELLING CHAMP

  That night, Belzer was in my room, sitting at my desk, doing my homework. He does my homework every night. Good kid, Belzer.

  Tonight he was writing a history report for me. He looked up from the laptop. “Bernie, how do you spell FBI?” he asked.

  “Well…spell it the best way you can,” I said. “I’ve gotta talk to Feenman and Crench.”

  I heard noises from across the hall. Loud, cracking sounds.

  I hurried into the guys’ room. “Dudes—what’s up? What’s that cracking noise?”

  “We got tired of doing The Stomp,” Crench said. “It hurt our feet too much. No one can walk.”

  “So we’ve all switched to knuckle cracking,” Feenman said. He knotted his hands and cracked his knuckles really hard. I saw a bone poke through the skin on his middle finger.

  That’s champion knuckle cracking!

  “No time for that, guys,” I said. “We have to get busy. You have to help me.”

  CRAAAAACK.

  Crench cracked his knuckles. Then his eyes bulged, and he let out a scream. “Oh, help! Help me!” He couldn’t get his fingers untangled.

  I had to get my pliers and pull them apart.

  Crench retreated to his bunk and blew on his fingers.

  “I do everything for you guys, right?” I said. “Everything. I’m always looking out for you. I even keep your money safe and sound for you. So now it’s time for you to help me.”

  “What do we have to do, Big B?” Feenman asked. He was pushing the bone back into his finger.

  “Just show up after class tomorrow,” I said. “Get all the guys in the dorm. Meet me at the library after school.”

  Feenman and Crench stared at me. “Bernie,” Crench said, “does our school have a library?”

  “No one told us,” Feenman said.

  From my room across the hall I heard Belzer shout: “Bernie, how do you spell PTA?”

  Chapter 13

  SMILE FOR THE CAMERA

  The next afternoon was crisp and cool. A strong wind kept blowing my balloons from side to side. And the party streamers fluttered noisily from the tree behind the library.

  The guys from my dorm came bopping up, led by Feenman and Crench.

  “Yo—dudes! Let’s get this party started!” I shouted.

  “Party?” Crench asked. “Huh? Is this your birthday party?”

  “No. No way,” I said. “This is my PRE-birthday party. It’s the warm-up party. You know. To get everybody pumped for the real party.”

  They scratched their heads and stared at me.

  “I’ve never been to a PRE-party,” Belzer said. “What do we do?”

  “No worries,” I said. “What we do is, we pretend we’re having a lot of fun.” I clapped my hands. “Everybody start cheering. Come on, dudes—big smiles!”

  I stuck out my arms. “Feenman! Crench! Pick me up!” I shouted. “Carry me around on your shoulders. It’s my birthday—right? Parade me around. Let’s hear it, guys. Everybody cheer for Bernie B.! Make it look real! Bring tears to my eyes!”

  Feenman and Crench hoisted me onto their shoulders. I pumped my fists in the air. “Let’s hear it for ME!” I yelled. “Everybody cheer now! Let’s make this the best PRE-party ever. Everybody smile into the camera!”

  Balancing on my friends’ shoulders, I turned to Jennifer Ecch. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m ready. Only one problem.”

  “Problem?”

  “I forgot my camera.”

  I let out a sigh and slid to the ground. My friends started walking away, grumbling.

  “Don’t anybody move!” I shouted. “Freeze! Everybody, freeze! This is a party—remember? Nobody leaves.”

  “Sorry, Honey Bunny,” The Ecch said. “My camera is lost. I think I left it somewhere.”

  “Don’t call me Honey Bunny,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. No problem!”

  I turned to Belzer. “Run back to the dorm. Get my camera. It’s on my dresser. Hurry. Some of the balloons are blowing away. And Beast is eating all the streamers!”

  Belzer took off.

  “It’s cold out here,” my friend Chipmunk complained. He was hugging himself and shivering. “Can’t we go inside?”

  “I have a nosebleed,” Nosebleed whined.

  “These streamers are making me thirsty!” Beast growled with a mouth full of crepe paper.

  “Nobody move,” I said. “This is gonna be a great PRE-party. You’ll see.”

  They all booed and groaned and muttered mean, nasty things under their breath.

  Bad attitude.

  You’ve probably figured out what was up. I wanted Jennifer to take a bunch of pictures of the guys cheering me and carrying me around on their shoulders. A big celebration with balloons and streamers.

  She takes the pictures to Blower. And he says, “Wow. I guess these pictures are proof—Bernie is the most popular dude in school.”

  It had to convince him. We all know pictures don’t lie—right?

  A few minutes later Belzer came running back. Panting, he handed the camera to Jennifer.

  “I’m ready, Honey Bunny,” she said. She licked my face. Then she raised the camera to her brown eye.

  “Okay. Take two!” I cried. “Feenman! Crench! Get me up on your shoulders. Let’s go, everyone! Party time! Look happy! Let’s hear the cheers. Pump your fists! Party! Party! Make it look real!”

  The cheers went up. The guys all grinned and waved and clapped. Feenman and Crench paraded me back and forth as everyone went nuts.

  Jennifer snapped shot after shot. She just kept clicking away.

  We celebrated for at least twenty minutes. Jennifer took about a hundred shots.

  Finally Feenman groaned. “Bernie, can I put you down? I’ve lost all feeling in my shoulder!”

  “Me too!” Crench moaned. “My whole body is numb.”

  “Cut!” I shouted, sliding to the ground. “Cut! Good work, everyone! Great PRE-party! Awesome! Thanks for coming! See you at the real party, which I know you are busy planning!”

  My friends all took off, heading back to the dorm. Beast stayed to pop the balloons with his two front teeth.

  I turned to Jennifer. “Good work,” I said. “Did you see those guys? Could there be any better proof of how popular I am?”

  Jennifer rubbed her cheek against mine. “That’s why you’re my wubby-wubby,” she whispered.

  Yuck.

  “Never mind that wubby-wubby stuff,” I said. “Get that film developed—fast. And take the shots to Blower.”

  Jennifer stared at the camera. “Film?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Get it developed. I want Leif Blower to see it as soon as—”

  “But—but—” Jennifer sputtered. “I thought your camera was a digital camera!”

  “No way!” I said. “It’s film.”

  I grabbed Belzer by the front of his shirt. “Did you put film in the camera? Tell me you put film in the camera.”

  He shook his head. “No, Big B. I can’t tell you I put film in the camera…cuz I didn’t.”

  I slapped my forehead. “Why not?”

  “You didn’t tell me to.”

  Jennifer opened the camera. We all stared inside.

  No film.

  “My bad,” Jennifer said. She grabbed my head with both hands and made a pouty face. “Bunny Breath, will you ever forgive me?”

  “Jennifer, you’re crushing my head into a raisin,” I said.

  “Oops. Don’t know my own strength.” She let go. “What are we going to do now, Bunny Breath?”

  “Don’t panic,” I said, trying to stretch my face back into shape. “Don’t anybody panic. There’s always Plan B!”

  “Plan B?” Jennifer asked. “What’s Plan B?”

  “Well…Plan B,” I said, “is thinking up what Plan B should be.”

  Chapter 14

  BOOS AND HISSES

  Plan B. The next day in the Stude
nt Center.

  Jennifer brought her own camera. And I brought a huge bag of Nutty Nutty candy bars.

  Everyone loves Nutty Nutty Bars. You know their slogan: They’re So Nutty, They Make You Nutty, Too!

  The good thing about a Nutty Nutty Bar is that it sticks to your teeth. No way you can pull it off. So you have that great Nutty Nutty taste for days!

  Normally I sell the Nutty Nutty Bars for two dollars each. But today was Plan B. Today everyone would see how popular I am. Mainly because I planned to give the candy bars away for free.

  I met Jennifer after dinner in front of the game room. The Student Center was packed. Lots of kids hang out here every night. It’s more fun than doing your homework.

  “Get your camera ready,” I told The Ecch. “When I start giving these babies away, I’ll have a huge crowd around me. I’ll be the most popular dude in the universe!”

  I dragged my bag of candy into the game room. “Free candy bars!” I shouted. I raised a handful of candy bars over my head. “Come and get ’em! It’s my birthday. And I’m giving out gifts! Free Nutty Nuttys!”

  Can you imagine the excited cries and shouts? Bernie B. giving something away?

  It looked like a cattle stampede. I was mobbed. All I could see were hands—hands grabbing the candy bars as fast as I pulled them from the bag.

  “Jennifer—are you getting this?” I cried. “Are you getting their happy faces?”

  I looked up to see her clicking away.

  “Feenman, nice try,” I said. “Beat it. You already grabbed four bars. Did you think I wasn’t counting?”

  Feenman grinned. He had Nutty Nutty nougat and nuts stuck to his teeth and both cheeks. His school blazer pocket was stuffed with candy bars.

  “Free Nutty Nuttys!” I shouted to the crowd. “It’s my birthday gift to everybody!”

  Kids cheered and slapped me on the back as I handed out the candy. I turned to Jennifer. “Are you getting the looks on their faces? Do I look popular or what?”

  “Yeaa, Bernie! Yeaa, Bernie!” kids started to chant.

  “Yo, Chipmunk!” I called. “Come here, Chipper. Here’s a candy bar!”

  Chipmunk is the shyest guy in school. He’s so shy, he burps into his shirt pocket so his breath won’t go on anyone. When he enters a room, he says, “Goodbye”—just in case you don’t want to talk to him.

  “Chipper—catch!” I tossed him a Nutty Nutty. I knew he was too shy to come over and get it.

  I turned to The Ecch. “Take a picture. Quick. Chipmunk enjoying his free candy bar—thanks to the most popular dude in school!”

  Everyone cheered. Jennifer clicked away. Plan B was a big success.

  But then I saw Chipmunk’s face get weird. His eyes bulged. His mouth dropped open.

  He started waving his arms wildly and making a horrible sound.

  “He’s choking!” Feenman cried. “He’s choking on the candy bar!”

  I turned to Jennifer. “Stop taking his picture!”

  Chipmunk’s eyes bulged out of his head. His face turned bright purple. He was beating his chest with his fists.

  At that moment Leif Blower walked in, followed by Mr. Pupipantz. They both stopped when they saw Chipmunk choking—and gasped.

  Leif tried to help Chipmunk. He gave him a slap on the back. Chipmunk heaved hard—and a big, wet glob of Nutty Nutty Bar came flying out of his mouth. It sailed across the room and hit Mr. Pupipantz in the forehead—and stuck there.

  Chipmunk was bent over, panting hard. His face started to return to its normal color.

  Mr. Pupipantz struggled to pull the candy bar glob off his forehead.

  “What’s going on here?” he cried. He squinted at Chipmunk. “Who gave you that candy bar?”

  Chipmunk pointed. “Bernie did. He made me eat it so he could take a picture. I—I guess he forgot I’m allergic to nuts. The nuts made my throat close, and I started to choke.”

  “Wait—I can explain!” I cried.

  Everyone was staring at me. Kids started to boo and hiss. Some kids flung their candy bars back at me.

  “Wait! Listen!” I cried. “OWWW!” A Nutty Nutty Bar hit me in the stomach. Candy bars bounced off my back.

  “BOOOOOOOO!”

  “HISSSSSSSS!”

  “Jennifer—stop taking pictures!” I shouted. “Stop!”

  She lowered her camera—and ducked as a bunch of Nutty Nutty Bars came sailing at me.

  “BOOOOOOOO, BERNIE!” kids shouted angrily.

  Jennifer turned her one blue eye and one brown eye on me. “Bernie,” she said, “is it time for Plan C?”

  Chapter 15

  A NATURAL SWING

  Birthday fever!

  I could sense it. The whole Rotten School campus was buzzing about my birthday party.

  NOT!

  No one was talking about it. No one was making any big plans. And I didn’t have a Plan C.

  Wednesday afternoon, I ran into April-May June. She was carrying a tennis racket and heading toward the tennis courts across from R.U. Dumm Field.

  I stepped in front of her to keep her from running away. She’s always so shy around me.

  “Going to play tennis?” I asked.

  “No. Just swatting flies,” she said. She swung the racket hard.

  I jumped back. “Missed me!” I cried. “You have an awesome backhand. A natural swing.”

  “Thanks, Bernie,” she said. “The answer is no.”

  “But I didn’t ask you anything,” I said.

  “Just in case,” she said. She swung the racket again. This time she clipped the side of my face.

  “No problem,” I said, staggering around on the grass. “I’ll put ice on it. It won’t swell up much.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t aiming for your face. It just slipped a little.”

  I shook off the pain. “I know you’ve heard about my birthday party,” I said. “Just give me a hint. What kind of birthday present are the girls cooking up for me?”

  “I know what I’m giving you,” April-May said.

  I started to pant. My heart popped out of my chest. I had to push it back in.

  “Really? What are you getting me?” I breathed.

  “A picture of me,” April-May said. “The picture that will be on my page in the yearbook as Most Popular Rotten Egg.”

  I tossed back my head and laughed. I love a girl with a sharp sense of humor.

  While I had my head tossed back, she flung her chewing gum into my open mouth.

  “Bernie, are you really having a birthday party?” she asked.

  I gulped down the gum. “Yeah, really,” I said. “It’s going to be the biggest party in the history of birthdays.”

  She squinted at me. “Then how come no one has heard about it?”

  I swallowed. “Because it’s a surprise party?” I uttered weakly.

  She swung her racket again. This time it just brushed my hair back. I watched her run across the grass toward the tennis courts.

  I had a heavy feeling—like a bowling ball—in the pit of my stomach. The party wasn’t happening. Was it time to panic?

  I couldn’t let Sherman Oaks or April-May June win that yearbook page. I knew I was Most Popular.

  But how could I prove it to Blower if the biggest party in birthday party history never happened?

  And then…more bad news.

  Belzer came running across the grass. “Bernie, Headmaster Upchuck wants to see you. Right away.”

  Chapter 16

  A REMINDER FROM THE UPCHUCK

  “Did he have a smile on his face?” I asked Belzer. “I’ll bet he wants to give me the Good Citizen Award for this month.”

  “I don’t think he was smiling,” Belzer said.

  I started to shake. Uh-oh. He wasn’t calling me in for doughnuts and chocolate milk.

  What did I do wrong this week? I could only count twenty or thirty things.

  I put a big grin on my face as I stepped into the Headmaster’s office.
He’s so short, I had to stand on tiptoe and lean over his desk to see him.

  “Nice to see you, sir,” I said. “I love that new tie. What are those colored streaks supposed to be? Is it modern art?”

  He glanced down at the tie. “It’s not modern art, Bernie,” he growled. “I spilled some of my Froot Loops on it at breakfast.”

  “Well, it looks wonderful on you,” I said. “Why did you call me in, sir? Do you need some help with the first graders? You know I’m always eager to volunteer.”

  “I have chapped lips. Don’t make me laugh,” The Upchuck said. “I called you in to give you a short message.”

  I flashed him my two-dimpled smile. “And what is that message, sir? If it has to do with the five missing pepperoni pizzas from the kitchen, I can explain that.”

  His bald head turned red. He lowered himself from his chair and pulled himself up to his full, three-foot height. “Here’s my message for you, Bernie,” he said. “It’s just a little reminder.”

  “Reminder, sir?”

  He nodded. “Whatever it is you’re doing? Don’t do it!”

  He climbed back into his chair.

  “Is that it, sir?” I asked.

  “That’s it,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said. I gave him a two-finger salute.

  I turned and walked into his outer office. I let out a sigh of relief. I got off pretty easy that time.

  I really couldn’t explain about the five missing pepperoni pizzas. We guys got hungry late one night, that’s all.

  I headed for the door, then stopped. Someone was bent behind the long desk, shoving files into a bottom drawer. When he stood up, I recognized him.

  Angel Goodeboy.

  “Hey,” he called. “Bernie, what’s up?”

  Angel looks like an angel. He has a pink-cheeked round face, innocent blue eyes, a tiny red mouth, and a pile of blond, curly hair. I always picture him with a silver halo floating over his head.

  The girls all adore him. Guys think he’s the sweetest dude in school. But I know the truth about him.