“Then we’ll play them all!” Mrs. Pocketlint exclaimed. She lowered her hands and began banging away on the piano. Mr. Pocketlint closed his tiny eyes, raised the little flute-thing to his mouth, and began to blow.
I settled back on the couch and kept a smile frozen on my face. I tried hard to keep my eyes open, but it was a struggle.
They played for hours and hours—maybe days! I took a short, two-hour nap, but I don’t think they noticed.
When they finally finished, they were both red-faced, panting hard, and bathed in sweat.
I jumped to my feet. My chance to escape!
“Thank you. Thank you both. That was wonderful!” I said. I clapped them both on the back and shook their hands. “I have tears in my eyes. Tears! Mozart always makes me so emotional!”
Mrs. Pocketlint flashed me her gummy smile. “What a delightful young man!”
Mr. Pocketlint smiled, too. “We’ll invite you back for our eight-hour Brahms festival,” he said.
“Only eight hours?” I said. “That isn’t enough!”
And I took off, running. I ran down the hall. My ears were ringing from hours of Mozart. And my legs were trembling and weak.
But I still had a mission to accomplish. I still had to sneak into Wes Updood’s room and pour water—
Uh-oh.
Where was that music coming from? It sounded like saxophone music.
I followed it to the Commons Room. And there was Wes, head tilted back, on his knees, swinging the sax back and forth as he played.
I failed. Bernie B. failed his friend Chipmunk. Head down, I slunk back to the dorm.
Back in Rotten House, I kissed the dirty floor. Feenman and Crench were waiting for me in my room.
“Did you do it, Big B?” Crench asked. “Did you give Wes’s saxophone the water treatment?”
“I changed my mind,” I said. “We have to win this fair and square.”
Feenman felt my forehead. “Fair and square? Are you sick?”
“We don’t need dirty tricks,” I said. “Listen to that awesome guitar music floating up from Chipmunk’s closet. He’s awesome! We can’t lose!”
But then, a funny thing happened at the rehearsal….
Chapter 16
WHY I SAT ON CHIPMUNK
The next day, after classes, I hurried to the auditorium in the Student Center. The rehearsal was just starting. Mrs. Twinkler, the Drama teacher, was calling for the first act to come onstage.
“Bright faces, people!” she called. “Bright faces! I want to see everyone glow and shine!”
That’s the way she talks. She’s very cheery and enthusiastic. She’s a real Twinkler.
Kids were scattered all over the auditorium. They had come to watch the auditions.
I hurried backstage to see if Chipmunk was ready. I saw Flora and Fauna—the Peevish twins—practicing a song near the stage door. Jennifer Ecch waved to me and threw me a kiss. Sherman and Wes and their band were taking their instruments from their cases.
Where was Chipmunk?
Before I could ask anyone, Feenman and Crench came running up to me.
“Where’s Chipmunk?” I asked. “The auditions are starting.”
“He won’t leave his room,” Crench said breathlessly. “We tried, Bernie. He said he won’t come out.”
“He chained himself to the bed,” Feenman said. “What should we do?”
“What should you do? Unchain him!” I cried. “What’s he trying to do? Totally mess me up? How is he going to take me to The Plopps concert if he’s chained to his bed?”
“Okay, Bernie,” Feenman said. “We’ll try again, but—”
“Tell him he’s a star,” I said. “Tell him he’s already won. Tell him there’s a million dollars for him here. In cash! Tell him anything! Just get him here!”
They both saluted and ran off.
I let out a long sigh and dropped into a seat in the front row.
“Glow and shine, people!” Mrs. Twinkler bubbled. “Big smiles now. We’re all stars, remember!”
Jennifer Ecch came onstage first. She sat down on a tall stool. She had a little ventriloquist’s dummy in her hands.
“Oh, noooo.” I let out a loud groan when I saw the dummy clearly. It looked just like me!
Jennifer began her ventriloquist act. “This is Bernie,” she said. “Say hello, Bernie.” She made the dummy say hello in a tiny, squeaky voice. Then she made loud, smoochy noises and had the dummy kiss her back. “Bernie likes to kiss—don’t you, Bernie?” she said.
Kids in the auditorium were laughing their heads off. I sank as low in my seat as I could go. Could anything be more embarrassing?
Flora and Fauna came on next. “We’re going to sing a duet,” Flora said. “The song is called ‘Getting to Know You.’”
“Wonderful!” Mrs. Twinkler cried. “Sing it like you feel it!”
The Peevish twins started to sing. They didn’t have good voices. They kinda sounded like cows caught in a wire fence. But it went pretty well until Fauna messed up the words.
Her sister stopped singing. “You jerk!” she cried. “You messed it up.”
“I didn’t mess it up—you did!” Fauna screamed.
“You did!”
They started slapping and punching each other. Mrs. Twinkler had to drag them off the stage.
“Losers,” I muttered to myself. No way they can beat Chipmunk.
I glanced to the back of the auditorium. And saw Feenman and Crench dragging Chipmunk down the aisle.
I jumped to my feet. “Here he is! Our star is here! You’ve already won, dude!”
His whole body was trembling. His teeth chattered, and his eyes rolled in his head.
I put a hand on his shaking shoulder. “What’s the problem?” I asked.
“I—I—I want my mommy!” Chipmunk said. Then he bit his tongue, so he couldn’t say any more.
I turned to Feenman and Crench. “Where’s his guitar?”
Feenman slapped his forehead. “Uh-oh. We forgot it.”
“GO GET IT!” I screamed. “How do you expect Chipmunk to be a star without his guitar?”
They turned and took off running—again.
Chipmunk tried to run. But I tackled him, held him down on the floor, and sat on him. No way he’d escape from Bernie B.
Onstage, Wes and his band started to play. Wes leaned way back, raised his sax, and sent a beautiful melody floating over the auditorium. Kids started to clap and cheer.
I heard a loud buzz. And saw two white bolts of electricity shoot out of Sherman’s drum machine. Sherman let out a shriek—and jumped about two feet in the air.
The drum machine shorted out!
“This will ruin it for these guys,” I muttered.
But no. Wes kept right on rocking.
Kids clapped along and shouted even louder than before. And when the band finished, everyone gave them a standing ovation. Mrs. Twinkler couldn’t get the kids to stop clapping.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told Chipmunk. “No problem.” I was still sitting on him. “They’ll forget Wes Updood when you start to play.”
Finally, Feenman and Crench came running down the aisle with Chipmunk’s guitar. I climbed up and tugged Chipmunk to his feet. I pulled the guitar over his shoulders.
I gave him a shove toward the stage. “Get up there, dude!” I said. “You rock! You totally rock!”
Chipmunk staggered onto the stage. His legs were shaking so hard, he looked like he was dancing.
I dropped down into my seat between Feenman and Crench. “We’ve got a winner,” I said. “Check him out. That’s what a winner looks like!”
Chapter 17
URRRRRRP
“Chipmunk, glow and shine!” Mrs. Twinkler said. “A winner has a winning smile!”
Chipmunk couldn’t smile. His teeth were chattering too hard.
He raised his guitar. He stared out at the audience.
“Go, dude!” I shouted. “Shake, rattle, and roll!”
But Chipmunk turned and gazed around. “Where’s my closet?” he said.
Mrs. Twinkler squinted at him. “Closet?”
“There’s no closet,” I shouted from the front row. “Just play! Do it, dude! Rock and roll forever!”
Chipmunk’s mouth dropped open. “No closet?”
“Go ahead. Never keep an audience waiting,” Mrs. Twinkler said.
“But—but—” Chipmunk stared down at me. “I can’t play unless I’m in a closet!”
“Chipmunk—do it, dude!” I shouted. “Rock the room!”
He glanced around again. “No closet?” He made a loud urrping sound. “Bernie, help me. I’m going to hurl. Here comes my lunch. I’m going to hurl!”
I jumped from my seat. But I couldn’t get onstage in time.
Chipmunk bent over his guitar and hurled his guts out.
When he was finished, I helped him off the stage. I turned to Mrs. Twinkler and flashed her a big smile. “Just a little stage fright,” I said. “He’ll be great. You’ll see.”
I guessed wrong. Chipmunk wasn’t finished.
I’m doomed! I realized. DOOMED!
Chapter 18
URP URP URPURPURP
The next day I ran into April-May June outside the library. She flashed me a teasing grin, and her blue eyes sparkled. “Too bad you can’t come with Wes and me to The Plopps concert,” she said. “But I’ll tell the Plopp sisters you said hi when I meet them in person backstage.”
Why did she enjoy torturing me? Didn’t she realize she was my girlfriend?
“Don’t get your hopes up, April-May,” I said. “Bernie B. hasn’t given up. I’m still gonna win.”
“Ha,” she said. “Double ha. How are you going to win? Chipmunk’s big talent is barfing on stage.”
“There’s a lot of other talent in Rotten House,” I told her. “I just have to find it.”
I hurried to the dorm. I called everyone to a meeting in the Commons Room. I was desperate. I had to find a winning act. The Talent Contest was tomorrow!
I turned to Feenman. “Maybe you, Crench, and Belzer can do your Three Stooges act. It was funny. It really had me laughing.”
“I don’t think so!” Feenman backed away. “You want to see my bruises? I’m bandaged in twelve places!”
“I can’t see straight!” Crench said. “He poked my eyes out!”
“I’m still bleeding!” Belzer wailed. “Please—don’t make us!”
“Come on, dudes,” I said. “What’s a little pain when the honor of your dorm is at stake?”
But I could see they wouldn’t do it. I glanced around the crowd of guys. “Who else has talent? Anybody else?”
A kid from the first floor, named Mason Dixon, pushed his way through the crowd. “I’ve got talent, Bernie. I can gargle all of Hilary Duff’s hit songs.”
“Awesome!” I said. “Back up. Give him some room. Let’s see what he’s got.”
Mason filled his mouth with water. He started to gargle. It sounded pretty good—until he choked. He choked for about two minutes and swallowed all the water.
“Next!” I cried. “Who else? Who else?”
To my surprise, Beast pushed a bunch of guys out of his way and stepped up to me. I took a deep breath. Something stank.
“Beast, have you been chasing skunks again?”
He grinned. “Almost caught one. Almost.”
I held my nose. “What’s your talent?”
“I can burp the love song from Star Wars,” he said. “Listen. Urp urp urpurpurp. Urp urpurp urp—”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Anyone else? Anyone?”
Silence.
“Doomed,” I muttered. “Doomed.” Shaking my head, I slunk back upstairs to my room.
I was halfway up the stairs when I had an awesome idea.
Chapter 19
THE BIG SHOW
The next afternoon, I stepped backstage as the Talent Contest started. Was I nervous? Not at all. I was calm as a carrot.
I peeked out from the side of the curtain. Every seat in the auditorium was filled. Every kid in school had turned out to watch my victory.
Mrs. Twinkler called Flora and Fauna Peevish to perform first. “Glow and shine, girls! Glow and shine!”
But they didn’t glow and shine. Flora started singing while Fauna was still clearing her throat. So they had to start again. Then Fauna messed up the words.
The two sisters started slapping and hitting each other, and Mrs. Twinkler had to drag them off the stage again.
The kids in the audience were not polite. They booed and hissed, and someone tossed a shoe onstage.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see Feenman and Crench with big grins on their faces. “Hey, dudes,” I said, “how’s it going?”
Then I saw that Feenman had a power drill in his hand. “What’s up with that?” I asked.
He raised a finger to his lips. “Ssshhh. Bernie,” he whispered, “we just drilled a few extra holes in Wes Updood’s saxophone. He won’t notice till he starts to play.”
They both giggled.
“Good work,” I said. “Wes and his band are up next.”
“Where’s Chipmunk?” Crench asked.
I pointed behind us. “I’ve got two guys sitting on him backstage so he won’t run away. When I give you the signal, push him onstage with his guitar.”
“But, Bernie, he’s just gonna freeze again,” Feenman said.
“He’ll hurl all over the stage,” Crench whispered.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “I’ve got it taken care of. Chipmunk is gonna win big-time. And I’m on my way to see The Plopps.”
They stared at me with their mouths hanging open. They didn’t believe me.
Wes, Sherman, and the Nyce House Band were setting up onstage.
“These cats are really cool!” Mrs. Twinkler was announcing. “They really swing. They’re going to rock your world!”
Feenman giggled. “Wait till Wes discovers the extra holes in his sax! That’ll rock his world!”
Crench giggled, too. “He’ll blow so hard, his head will explode!”
Sherman pushed a button and started his drumbeats.
Wes stepped to the edge of the stage. “Fried rice, everyone!” he shouted. “Angel hair pasta! Downtown. Downtown!”
So cool.
He took a few steps back and started to play. The band started slowly, picked up steam, then totally rocked.
Watching from the side of the stage, I had to admit it: Wes was awesome!
And the extra holes in his sax gave him NEW HIGH NOTES! He wailed and trilled the new notes till everyone was screaming! They jumped up and danced and rocked to the music. And when it ended, they screamed and stamped their feet for more.
Mrs. Twinkler couldn’t get them to stop.
I turned and saw Feenman and Crench shaking their heads sadly. “Sorry, Bernie,” Crench said. “We tried. We really did. Better luck next year.”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “We’re gonna win. Trust me. It’s all over. We win!” I pointed to the back. “Hurry. Go get Chipmunk. Strap on his guitar and shove him out there.”
Was I nervous now?
You’re joking, right?
Calm as a carrot.
I was already daydreaming about what I’d say to the Plopp sisters when I met them….
Chapter 20
WE HAVE A WINNER AND A LOSER!
Chipmunk looked a little dazed. His eyes bulged, and his lips were trembling.
We strapped his guitar on, and all three of us pushed him onstage. His legs were shaking so hard, we actually had to carry him.
“Chipmunk is going to favor us with some guitar stylings!” Mrs. Twinkler told the audience. She smiled at Chipmunk. “Glow and shine now. And don’t barf!”
Chipmunk gazed out at the huge crowd of kids. I don’t think he heard Mrs. Twinkler. His whole body began to shake and shudder.
The kids thought it was par
t of the act. They started to clap along.
He turned all around. “Wh-where’s my c-closet?” he stammered. “Bernie? My closet?” His eyes suddenly shut. “Uh-oh. I’m going to hurl. Where’s my closet?”
“HERE’S YOUR CLOSET!” I shouted. I pushed it out onstage.
Chipmunk blinked. “My closet?”
“Here it is,” I said. “I tore it out of your wall.”
Hey—Bernie B. will do anything for his guys!
I never saw Chipmunk look so happy. He leaped into the closet, and I slammed the door shut.
I turned to the audience. “Here he is, everyone! The Hidden Guitarist!”
After a few seconds Chipmunk began to twang and rock. Do I have to tell you what happened next?
His guitar playing was so totally beyond awesome, the audience wouldn’t let him stop. Every time he ended a song, the audience screamed for more.
The kids were standing on their seats, dancing everywhere, doing cartwheels down the aisle.
Too bad Chipmunk couldn’t see it!
He rocked for an hour. And after he stopped, the kids screamed for at least another hour!
It took the judges less than ten seconds to decide. CHIPMUNK was the WINNER!
“You did it, Big B! You did it!” Feenman and Crench shouted, jumping up and down, pumping their fists in the air.
“For sure!” I said. We slapped high fives and low fives, touched knuckles, and did the secret Rotten School Handshake.
I looked around the stage. “Hey—where’s Chipmunk?”
Feenman slapped his forehead. “We left him in the closet!”
We ran across the stage, tugged open the closet door, and pulled Chipmunk out. “Air!
Air!” he gasped. His face was blue, but after a few seconds it returned to the right color.
“Chipmunk, buddy! You won! You won!” I told him, slapping him on the back.
His eyes grew wide. “I did? I won? Oh, wow.” He blushed. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”