“First things first, Mike,” said Liz. “We follow him. We need to find out what his wonderful, wonderful plan is.”
Mike nodded. “Something tells me it’s not going to be so wonderful.” He looked at Liz. “We have to make things normal. We have to.”
She twisted her face a little. “Don’t get carried away, Mike. This is Grover’s Mill, remember? If we just get out of this alive, I’ll be happy.”
As the two friends crept down the hall into the darkness, Mike doubted whether they’d ever be happy again.
The dusty trail led to the school auditorium.
“Maybe he’s putting on a show?” said Liz.
The two kids slipped through the rear doors of the auditorium and huddled in the back corner.
Hanging on the stage behind the podium was a giant poster. The potato brain’s picture was on the poster, and written in giant letters above the picture were the words—King Spud.
“King?” whispered Mike. “I really don’t like the sound of that. He used to be just a potato.”
Behind the podium Sean, Jeff, and Holly were standing with the other students and teachers.
The potato army was murmuring and chattering in their seats. The lights went down and everyone began to applaud.
Mike tapped Liz on the shoulder and pointed to the front of the auditorium. The two kids crept quietly down a side aisle.
A moment later, a spotlight shined on the stage. The giant Potadio waddled up to the podium. He was even larger now, about four feet tall. He began to thump his long leafy sprouts on the podium.
“Humans!” he cried out. “All they want to do is eat us. For years we’ve lived in fear of the fork. Well, that’s going to change—starting now!”
“Rmm! Rmm!” the potato army murmured.
Liz shook her head and sighed. “That’s all we need in Grover’s Mill. Giant vegetables with attitudes.”
Thump! Thump! went the leafy sprouts. “No longer will we live under the ground like common vegetables!” King Spud shouted. “Follow me, my spudlets, and we’ll conquer the world!”
Cheers echoed against the walls of the auditorium. Principal Bell stumbled over and set a large crown on the potato’s head. Sparks flew up.
“Careful with the crown, Mr. Ding-dong Bell!” King Spud cried. “This brain is supercharged!”
“All hail King Spud!” announced the principal. Again the room rocked with applause.
“These lights! This crown!” King Spud announced loudly. “They make me wanna—sing!”
One of King Spud’s leafy arms yanked the microphone from the podium and he waddled out to the middle of the stage. The spotlight followed him. He tipped his crown low on his forehead, curled his lips, and began.
I may not be so pretty,
I’m sure not itty-bitty,
But I’m conquering your city
’Cause I’ve got elec-tri-city!
Oh, I’m the King—
The King of everything!
Mike was stunned. “This is all my fault.”
Liz nodded. “Well, it sure has gone way beyond potatoes and radios. King of everything?”
“This kind of stuff seems to happen a lot in Grover’s Mill, doesn’t it?” asked Mike.
Liz smiled. “The Zone, Mike. The center of galactic weirdness.”
Yes, I’m the Big Bad King
Of Everythiiiiiiiiing!
As Spud held that last long note, a horrible thing happened. The giant poster behind him disappeared, and there, in full color, was another large picture. A map.
“We’re going on a trip!” shouted the royal potato. His leafy sprouts unfurled and slapped the map again and again, pointing to a star on the east coast. “To the big city!”
Mike squinted. He knew that star.
“Next stop—Washington, DC!” King Spud proclaimed. “The capital of the Potato States of America!”
8
Liz Duffey, the Potato!
“Rmmmmmm!” The potato audience thundered. The spuds bounced in their seats.
“Let’s beat it before the lights come up,” said Mike. He and Liz slipped quietly out the back doors and out into the hall.
“Did you hear what he said?” cried Mike. “He’s going to attack Washington! That’s the capital of our country. The President! The Congress! The Supreme Court! Without them, we’re doomed! We’d be totally out of control!”
“We haven’t studied the Supreme Court yet,” said Liz. “But I know what you mean.”
The rumbling in the auditorium grew louder.
“King Spud is sending out his brain waves again,” said Mike. “His army’s getting noisier.”
Liz’s eyes started to water. The tip of her nose twitched. Her chin quivered.
“But, hey, don’t cry,” said Mike. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
“Cry?” Liz made a face at Mike. “I just need to blow my nose. This cold is killing me.”
She took out a tissue and blew into it a couple of times. “Oh, this is great. Finally, my ears popped. It feels so good. And I can hear! I can actually hear—“ Liz broke off. She stuck a finger in her ear and wiggled it. “What? Yes … yes … right away … master!”
Mike stepped back. “Whoa, Liz! What are you doing? You’re not getting weird on me are you?”
Liz turned to him. Her eyes were glassy.
Mike stepped backward. “You’re joking, right? Like, ha-ha, wouldn’t it be funny if our brains were controlled by King Spud and—”
Liz stared at him but didn’t focus on him.
“Yes, Michael Mazur. Ha. Ha,” she droned. “I am very funny with joking. Weird is not what I am. I will not hurt you.”
“Whoa,” said Mike. “Who said anything about hurting?”
Liz didn’t answer, but she stumbled down the hall to Mrs. Carbonese’s room. A moment later, she was back and walking slowly toward Mike.
He moved away step by step. This is not good, he thought. If Liz’s brain really was being controlled by King Spud, then he was all alone in this. And Mike was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do it all alone. He needed Liz. A lot.
“Um, hey, Liz, remember the time when we fought that big dinosaur beast guy, Gorga? That was pretty fun, wasn’t it?”
“Fun,” Liz droned, nodding up and down.
She kept coming.
Rmmmmm! The rumbling from the auditorium was even louder now. The floor rocked.
Mike glanced both ways down the hall, looking for the best way to run. “And of course you remember how I sort of saved your life when Gorga lifted you off the ground?”
“Ground,” repeated Liz. “I was born in the ground.”
“Uh, no, actually, you weren’t,” said Mike. “You are not a vegetable. You’re my friend, right? F-r-i-e-n-d. Remember?”
Liz still kept coming.
Mike kept backing away. “Okay, look,” he said. “I’m not going to let this happen, Liz. It’s too late for the rest of them, but not for us. We’re the only ones left to stop King Spud. Well, there’s Mrs. C., but I wouldn’t expect that she could do much to stop King Spud, and—”
“Spud!” shouted Liz, jerking her right hand up in the air in a fist. Then she opened her hand. In it was a small green box. Slowly, she pulled something white out of it.
Mike’s eyes were fixed on what she was doing. This is all my fault, he thought. Totally.
Crack!
The box hit the floor. Liz brought the white thing up in front of her face. It was a dusty one-inch nib of chalk!
“So, Liz, you gonna do some math problems?” But Mike knew deep down that she didn’t have math on her mind.
He shuddered.
Liz scratched her ears. “Yes, master!”
“Aw, you don’t have to call me that,” Mike said, still backing down the hall and glancing for the nearest door.
But he couldn’t take his eyes off Liz for an instant. The gleam of a doorknob sparkled at the very corner of his eye. Yes! A door. A class
room. A window. Outside, home, TV, food.
The whole world of freedom spread out before him in a fraction of a second.
The door was about fifteen feet away. “Liz, remember the time—”
“Call me Spudlet ninety-nine.” Then Liz took a deep breath and blew it out over the piece of chalk. A puff of white chalk dust floated toward Mike.
Rmmm! The auditorium thundered.
“Yes, master!” Liz said again. “Right now!”
Liz lowered the little white stick and held it out like a little white sword.
Then she charged at Mike.
9
A Cast of Thousands!
“No!” Mike screamed. He ran for the doorknob. He jiggled it. It wouldn’t turn. His hands kept slipping.
“Help!” he yelled. But there was no one left to help him.
Liz came closer and closer, pointing that chalk right at him like a weapon. Her eyes were weird. She was one of them! A potato-brain!
In that frightful instant, it hit Mike with the force of a Double Dunk donut hurled at great speed. Brain waves! He had to block the brain waves!
Mike finally gripped the knob and turned it.
It opened.
A wrinkled pink face popped out!
“Mrs. Carbonese!” Mike shrieked.
“The rude boy!” the teacher shrieked. She stuck her silver police whistle in her mouth and blew—hard!
Woooooooo!
Liz suddenly staggered back and slapped her ears hard. “What—?”
Mike took a deep breath and blew on Liz’s chalk.
Puff! A little cloud of white dust drifted back into Liz’s face. She stopped. She squinted. She sneezed.
AAAA—CHOOOOO!
“Whoa—ugh!” snarled Liz, staring at the chalk in front of her nose. “My ears just plugged up big time! Hey, what’s this chalk for?”
“Liz!” shouted Mike. “You’re back! Boy, am I glad you’re not a potato-brain anymore. Wait, you’re not a potato-brain anymore, are you? I mean, uh, who’s your king?”
Liz made a face. “Mike, we don’t have kings here, we have presidents, and if we don’t stop King Spud and his potato army, we won’t even have one of those!”
Mike turned to Mrs. Carbonese and smiled. “Oh, yeah, she’s back.”
Suddenly—BLAM! The doors from the auditorium burst open and an army of potatoes poured into the hallway!
Mike gasped. The potatoes were bigger and noiser than before. They were growing features—just like King Spud.
Little mouths with sharp little teeth.
Little brains bulging on their heads.
“Let’s get out of here before we’re spud snacks!” Mike screamed.
Liz dashed for the doors at the end of the hall. “Come with us, Mrs. C.!”
“No, I don’t miss the sea,” the teacher said. “I quite like the desert, thank you, dear.”
Mike almost laughed. Mrs. Carbonese was way hard-of-hearing, Liz’s ears were blocked from her cold, and he had a problem with wax in his ears.
None of them could hear the brain waves.
That’s why none of them were potato-brains!
“Hurry,” he yelled, as he led the two humans out of the school to the rear parking lot.
Mike motioned across the lot. “Let’s bolt for the fence and then through the woods and—”
ERRRRRRKK! A giant yellow school bus screeched around the flagpole and pulled to a sudden stop in front of the school.
At the wheel was—Rock Storm!
“Wait!” Mike whispered, sliding on the grass. He motioned for Liz and Mrs. Carbonese. “We have to find out what’s with the bus.”
The three crept quietly around the side of the school. They peered over a low stone wall next to the front lot.
The potato army crashed from the school and tumbled out to the sidewalk. Then, all together, the dusty army turned their grinning, toothy faces to see King Spud emerge from the school.
Spud was nearly six feet tall now and almost as wide. He waddled very slowly. His big pink brain bulged high over his giant head. It sparked and sizzled with incredible brain power.
Principal Bell and Miss Lieberman helped him down the steps carefully, bowing all the way.
Rock Storm came over from the school bus. “Here to do your bidding, oh, giant master!”
“It’s about time, fluffy boy!” snarled the enormous potato. Then he wrinkled his giant brain. “Wait, hold everything. I’m picking up some bad vibrations. Can it be? Oh, yeah! There are humans still among us!”
“Rmmm! Rmmm!” the crowd of spuds rumbled. They began looking around with their many eyes.
“I thought only corn had ears,” Mike whispered from behind the wall. “It’s like my Potadio grew some kind of supersonic computer chip in that huge brain of his.”
“Hey!” cried King Spud, looking over the crowd. “Who said chip? Never—ever—say chip to a potato!”
Then the giant vegetable spotted the three heads peering over the wall and jabbed his leafy sprouts at them.
“Humans!” cried King Spud. “Get them!”
Mike gulped. “Uh-oh.”
10
Humans—as in Cannonballs!
With an angry flick of his sprouts, King Spud sent Principal Bell, Miss Lieberman, Mr. Sweeney, Rock Storm, and all two hundred and ninety-eight W. Reid Elementary School students charging after Mike, Liz, and Mrs. Carbonese.
“I think it was something we said!” cried Mike. “Come on!” The three dashed over to the double doors of the school.
Rrrrrrr! The bus engine roared. Mike glanced back to see King Spud wedge himself into the driver’s seat. “The ultimate field trip!” the potato leader cried. “To take over the world!”
Mike watched the school bus roar away.
“Get the humans!” shouted Principal Bell.
“Rmm-rmm!” cried Miss Lieberman.
In that instant, Mike realized he had to think of something quick. And when he raced into the gym, he knew what it was. “Only one thing can save us and stop King Spud!”
“It would be nice if you told us!” huffed Liz, helping Mrs. Carbonese try to run in her high-heeled shoes.
“That!” cried Mike, pointing to the giant catapult against the far wall.
“Whoa,” said Liz, slowing down. “I think the wax must have gone to your brain. That thing almost killed me. There’s no way we’re using it!”
“Oh, yes we are!” Mike ran up to the catapult. He rolled it toward the back doors of the gym and into the lot behind the school.
Wham! The double gym doors flew open.
“Rmmm! Rmmm!” grumbled the angry mob of potato-brained humans as they made their way across the room.
“Hurry!” Mike grabbed Liz’s hand and pulled her with him into the launcher bowl of the catapult.
“Rmmm!” The potato-brain teachers and students roared after them out into the parking lot. At the head of the mob were Sean, Holly, and Jeff, pointing and yelling, “Get them! They don’t have numbers. They don’t do the secret potato salute. They’re not like us!”
“Mrs. C.!” cried Mike. “Hurry up and pull the lever!”
“Never mind the weather!” Mrs. Carbonese yelled. “You two kids better fly!”
She pulled the lever.
FWONG!
With incredible force, Mike and Liz were hurled like human cannonballs into the air.
“Whoa!” screeched Mike.
“Whoa!” screeched Liz.
The two kids shot up over the top of the gym, over the flagpole, over the school parking lot, and high over Main Street.
Mrs. Carbonese climbed up to the top of the catapult and kicked at the potato-brains with her high-heeled shoes.
“There’s the bus,” Mike cried out, whizzing fast over Grover’s Mill. “We’ve got to stop it!”
“We’ve got to stop ourselves, too!” wailed Liz, as they just missed getting hooked by the giant fishing pole on the Baits Motel.
Then they starte
d to drop. Fast.
WHAM! WHAM! Mike and Liz hit something. Something yellow and black. Something yellow and black and very hard. Mike opened his eyes.
“The school bus!” Mike shrieked. “We made it! We actually—”
Errrk! The bus swerved onto Main Street and picked up speed.
“Help!” cried Liz, nearly sliding off the top.
Mike quickly grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back on. Then he started to crawl across the roof to the front. “Follow me. I saw this in a movie once.”
“Not one of the school bus safety videos,” Liz groaned as she made her way over to Mike. “But then, they probably weren’t thinking Weird Zone when they made those videos!”
King Spud turned the wheel sharply and the bus veered up on the sidewalk.
“Whoooooa!” Mike nearly lost his grip this time. His legs went flying out and banged against the sign on Duffey’s Diner.
“Watch out!” cried Liz, reaching out for him. “My mom paid a lot for that sign!”
In one incredible move, Mike swung back over the top of the bus and came down hard. With both feet he kicked on the middle of the front door.
Sssss! The door opened and Mike swung in. A second later, Liz jumped in next to him.
The first thing they heard was singing!
Five million spuds on the White House wall,
Five million spuds on the wall!
If one of those spuds should happen to fall—
King Spud stopped singing. “What smells?”
Liz growled, “End of the road, sprout face!”
King Spud gave them an astonished look. “This bus is for potatoes only!” His bulging brain turned purple with rage. He twirled the giant steering wheel angrily.
The two kids lost their balance.
King Spud snarled, “Finish them off, boys!”
Snap! Snap! Thousands of little dusty jaws began to clack open and shut. A puff of brown dust filled the bus as the spudlet army leaped from their seats and tumbled forward.
“Stampede!” screamed Liz.
“Potato stampede!” screamed Mike.
11
The Last (Vegetable) Stand!
“Rmmmmm! Rmmmmm!” The potatoes charged forward, their teeth snapping and clacking.
At that moment, something caught Mike’s eye. Rolling out from under the driver’s seat was a little crumpled ball of paper.