Mayor Hubble Is in Trouble! Read online

  Dedication

  To Emma

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1. The Return of Mr. Wiggles

  2. The Shut-up Peace Sign

  3. Rule the School

  4. Super Secret Strategy Session

  5. Yuck! Kissing! Gross!

  6. On the Stump

  7. How to Wash a Ferret

  8. The Great Debate

  9. Playing Hardball

  10. Signs of Trouble

  11. And the Winner Is …

  12. The Runoff

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  My name is A.J. and I hate ferrets.

  Did you ever see a ferret? They are these disgusting brown animals that look like long, skinny rats.

  My friend Neil, who we call the nude kid even though he wears clothes, has a pet ferret. His name is Mr. Wiggles. Last year Neil brought Mr. Wiggles to school on Crazy Pet Day. He escaped from his cage and climbed into a hat that belonged to this crybaby girl named Emily—while it was on her head! Emily freaked and went running out of the room.

  It was hilarious. You should have been there! We saw it live and in person.

  This year we didn’t have Crazy Pet Day. We had Adopt-A-Pet Month. My teacher, Mr. Granite, said we could bring in a pet, and each of us would have to take it home for a night to take care of it.

  “Okay, who brought in a furry friend today?” asked Mr. Granite, who is from another planet.

  “I forgot,” I said.

  “I forgot,” said my friend Ryan, who will eat anything, even stuff that isn’t food.

  “I forgot,” said Michael, who never ties his shoes.

  “I forgot,” said Alexia, who is a girl that rides a skateboard all the time.

  In case you were wondering, everybody was saying they forgot to bring in a pet. Except for one person.

  Neil the nude kid.

  “I remembered!” shouted Neil.

  He took Mr. Wiggles out of his cage. Ugh. It was disgusting.

  “He’s adorable!” said all the girls.

  “Kill him!” yelled all the boys except for Neil.

  “I’m scared,” said Emily, who’s scared of everything.

  “What can you tell us about your ferret, Neil?” asked Mr. Granite.

  “Well, when Mr. Wiggles gets excited, he starts hopping sideways and bumping into things,” Neil said. “It’s called the weasel war dance.”

  “That’s interesting!” said Mr. Granite. “Does anyone else know anything about ferrets?”

  “Oooooooooooh! Oooooooooooh!” said Andrea Young, this girl with curly brown hair. She was waving her arm around like she was trying to be rescued from a desert island. Andrea is so annoying. In her spare time, she reads the encyclopedia for fun.

  “Male ferrets are called hobs,” Andrea said, “and females are called jills.”

  “Very good, Andrea!” said Mr. Granite.

  Why can’t a truck full of ferrets fall on Andrea’s head?

  “What do ferrets eat?” asked Emily.

  “They eat girls named Emily,” I said.

  “EEEEEEEEEEK!” Emily screamed, and then she went running out of the room.

  Sheesh, get a grip! That girl will fall for anything.

  Emily is weird. So are ferrets.*

  Neil put Mr. Wiggles in his cubby, and then we pledged the allegiance.

  “Okay, let’s get to work, shall we?” said Mr. Granite. “We’re way behind and have a lot to cover. So turn to page twenty-three in your math book and—”

  Mr. Granite didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because an announcement came over the loudspeaker.

  “All classes please report to the all-purpose room.”

  “Not again!” said Mr. Granite, slamming his math book shut.

  We had to walk a million hundred miles to the all-purpose room, which is a room that is used for all purposes, so it has the perfect name. There were flags, banners, and red, white, and blue stuff all over the place. Nobody knew why. I had to sit next to Andrea. Ugh, disgusting!

  Everybody was talking, so our principal, Mr. Klutz, made a peace sign with his fingers. That means “shut up.” Everybody stopped talking.

  “Election Day is coming up,” said Mr. Klutz, who has no hair at all. “To help you learn about democracy, we’re going to have elections at Ella Mentry School! Each of you will get to vote for one of your classmates to be president of your grade. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  “Yes!” shouted all the girls.

  “No!” shouted all the boys.

  Then Mr. Klutz told us about democracy.

  “In a democracy,” he said, “all people have an equal say blah blah blah blah equality and freedom blah blah blah blah liberty blah blah blah blah Constitution blah blah blah blah majority rule blah blah blah blah the right to vote blah blah blah blah freedom of speech blah blah blah blah and whoever gets the most votes is the winner.”

  While Mr. Klutz was talking, kids started making faces, doodling in their notebooks, and shooting rubber bands at each other. I thought I was gonna die from old age.

  But you’ll never believe who came running into the door while Mr. Klutz was talking.

  Nobody! It would hurt if you ran into a door! But you’ll never believe who came running into the doorway.

  It was Mayor Hubble!

  “I thought Mayor Hubble was in jail,” whispered Andrea.

  He was. What happened was that gold had been discovered in our playground, and Mayor Hubble tried to steal it. But he was caught and sent to prison. We were all surprised to see him. He came bounding up onto the stage followed by three bodyguards. They were big guys with necks that were almost as thick as their heads.

  “Mayor Hubble!” said Mr. Klutz. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?* I thought you were in jail.”

  “I got time off for good behavior,” Mayor Hubble said. “So I’m running for mayor again. I hope all the parents of your students will vote for me.”

  He made peace signs with both hands and waved them in the air while everybody clapped.

  “Why is Mayor Hubble making the shut-up peace sign?” I asked.

  “That’s not the shut-up peace sign, Arlo!” Andrea said, rolling her eyes. She calls me by my real name because she knows I don’t like it. “He’s making the V-for-Victory sign.”

  It looked just like the shut-up peace sign. If you ask me, they should have three different signs for “peace,” “victory,” and “shut up.” It would be a lot less confusing.

  I made a peace sign and stuck it in Andrea’s face. But it didn’t mean “peace” and it didn’t mean “victory.”

  Later, we were having lunch in the vomitorium. That’s a room that used to be called the cafetorium until some first grader threw up in there last year. Andrea and her girlie girl friends were sitting at the table next to us. Me and the guys let Alexia sit at our table because she’s cool.

  “Guess what?” Andrea said really loudly, so everybody would have to hear. “I decided that I’m going to run for president of the third grade!”

  All the girls were hugging her and telling Andrea that she would make a great president.

  “After I win the election,” Andrea said, “I was thinking that we should have a dress code at Ella Mentry School. If we all wore uniforms, it would be easier to pick out our clothes in the morning.”

  “That’s a great idea!” said Emily, who thinks all of Andrea’s ideas are great.

  “I really think we can make this school a better place,” said Andrea.

  “Hey, if you want t
o make the school a better place,” I yelled to her, “why don’t you switch to another school?”

  “Oh, snap!” said Ryan.

  “That’s mean, Arlo!”

  After lunch we went outside for recess. The guys and Alexia pulled me over to the corner by the monkey bars, where Andrea and her girlie girl friends couldn’t hear us.

  “The president rules the school, y’know,” said Michael. “I don’t want Andrea being in charge.”

  “I don’t want to wear a uniform,” said Alexia.

  “Andrea will probably turn the school into a prison,” said Ryan.

  “It’s gonna be horrible,” said Neil the nude kid. “We need somebody to run against Andrea.”

  “Yeah,” everybody agreed.

  I looked around. Michael was looking at me. Ryan was looking at me. Alexia was looking at me. Neil was looking at me. Everybody was looking at me!

  “What are you looking at me for?” I asked.

  “You should run for president of the third grade, A.J.,” said Alexia.

  “Yeah!” everybody agreed.

  “Why?” I asked. “I don’t want to be president. That’s for nerds.”

  “A.J., if you don’t run, Andrea will become president,” said Michael. “She’s going to make us wear uniforms and turn the school into a prison.”

  “She’ll probably close the boys’ bathroom and make us hold it in all day,” said Ryan.

  “So why don’t one of you guys run?” I asked.

  “You’re the only one who can beat her, A.J.,” said Neil the nude kid.

  “Well, I don’t want to run,” I said.

  “A.J.,” said Michael, “if you don’t want to run against Andrea, that means you must be in love with her.”

  “That’s right,” everybody agreed.

  “What?” I shouted. “It does not! It just means I don’t want to be president.”

  “Oooooh!” Ryan said. “A.J. doesn’t want to run against Andrea. They must be in love!”

  “When are you and Andrea gonna get married?” asked Michael.

  “Shhhhhhhhhh!” I said. “Okay! Okay! I’ll run for president of the third grade.”

  If those guys weren’t my best friends, I would hate them.

  We needed to have a meeting in a place where Andrea and her girlie girl friends couldn’t spy on us. Ryan has a cool tree house in his backyard, so we decided to meet up there. Michael, Neil, and Alexia came over to Ryan’s house after school.

  “I don’t know anything about elections,” I told the gang. “How am I going to beat Andrea? Does anybody have any ideas?”

  “You need a slogan,” suggested Alexia. “Like, ‘A.J. Puts the Cool in School.’”

  “You should get the No Bell Prize for that,” I said.*

  “How about, ‘A.J. Puts the Drool in School’?” suggested Michael.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” said Ryan. “There’s no d-r in the word ‘school.’”

  “We should make a commercial and put it on TV during the Super Bowl,” suggested Neil the nude kid.

  “The Super Bowl is in January,” said Michael. “It’s too late. The election is in November.”

  “How about we make one of those Batman signs and project it on the sky at night?” suggested Ryan.

  “That’s dumb,” I told him.

  “Hey, nobody likes to floss, right?” said Alexia. “So what if we knock on people’s doors, show them how to floss correctly, and tell them to vote for A.J.?”

  “That’s the dumbest idea in the history of the world,” said Neil the nude kid.

  “Well, I’m stumped,” said Michael.

  “Your legs were amputated?” I asked.

  “No, dumbhead,” he replied. “Stumped means—”

  But he didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. You’ll never believe in a million hundred years whose head popped up into the tree house at that moment.

  It was Mayor Hubble!

  “I heard you were running for president of the third grade, A.J.,” he told me. “I came to help you win the election.”

  “How did you know we would be holding our supersecret strategy session up here?” asked Ryan.

  “I was a boy once, you know,” said the mayor.

  “Just once?” I said. “I’m a boy all the time.”

  “Look, A.J.” said the mayor. “Let’s get down to business. You don’t like Andrea, do you?”

  “No!”

  “You want to beat her on Election Day, don’t you?”

  “Yeah!”

  “You want to humiliate her, right?”

  “Yeah!!”

  “You want her to wish she was never born!”

  “YEAH!!!”

  “Well, I have a plan to help you win the election,” said the mayor.

  “What is it?” we all asked.

  “I’m not going to tell you,” said the mayor.

  “Why not?” asked Neil.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you,” the mayor said. “But you have to wait until the next chapter.”

  “Why can’t you tell us in this chapter?” asked Ryan.

  “Because this chapter is almost over,” said Mayor Hubble. “There’s no room.”

  “Why don’t you just make this chapter a little longer,” asked Michael, “and tell us now?”

  “Wait a minute,” Alexia said. “Why are you guys talking about chapters? Are we in a book or something?”

  “Of course we’re in a book,” I told Alexia. “It’s a series called My Weirder School.”

  “Never heard of it,” Alexia said.

  “That’s because you’re new,” I told her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Mayor Hubble. “A.J., the point is that if you do what I tell you to do, you’ll beat Andrea in the election.”

  “Why do you care whether or not I win the election?” I asked.

  “Because if I help you beat Andrea,” said the mayor, “maybe you can do something for me. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.”

  “What does back scratching have to do with anything?” I asked. “My back doesn’t even itch.”

  “A.J.,” said the mayor, “after I help you win the election, the only thing you need to do is tell all the parents to vote for me. Can you do that?”

  I looked at Ryan. Ryan looked at Neil. Neil looked at Michael. Michael looked at Alexia. Alexia looked at me.

  “It’s a deal,” I said.

  “Great,” said the mayor. “Let’s keep this our little secret.”

  “My lips are sealed,” I said.

  But not with glue or anything. That would be weird.

  When I got to school the next day, kids and parents were sitting all over the front steps. There were posters, banners, and signs hanging on the fence.

  Ryan, Michael, and Neil the nude kid were standing around in black T-shirts with their arms crossed in front of them and scowls on their faces.

  “What’s up with you guys?” I asked.

  “We’re your bodyguards,” Ryan told me. “We have to look mean.”

  “Yeah,” said Neil the nude kid. “Somebody might try to attack you.”

  “If somebody messes with you, we’ll take care of them,” said Michael, punching a fist into his open hand.

  “Who told you to dress like that?” I asked them. “And who made all these signs?”

  They all looked over at the sidewalk, where Mayor Hubble was leaning against a telephone pole. He winked at me, and I went over to him.

  Andrea was up at the top of the steps, standing at a podium.

  “… so in conclusion,” Andrea said, “that’s why you should vote for me to be the president of the third grade. Thank you.”

  The kids sitting on the steps clapped and cheered and waved little flags for Little Miss Perfect.

  “Great job, Andrea!” said Mr. Klutz. “Now it’s time to hear from the other candidate for third-grade president … A.J.!”

  What?! I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know
what to do. I had to think fast.

  “Nobody told me I had to give a speech,” I whispered to Mayor Hubble.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, slipping me a sheet of paper. “Just read this.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s your stump speech.”

  “You want me to speak to people with no legs?” I asked.

  “Not that kind of stump,” the mayor said. “A stump speech is a standard political speech that you give over and over again.”

  I climbed the steps and stood behind the podium. Everybody was clapping and cheering like crazy.

  I was nervous! I had never given a speech before. I started to read from the piece of paper Mayor Hubble gave me.

  “Four score and seven years ago,” I said, “I had a dream. I had a dream that the ballot was stronger than the bullet. The pen was mightier than the sword. And those who stand for nothing fall for anything. Now, fellow students, I’ve been to the mountaintop, and I can tell you this. Ask not what your school can do for you; ask what you can do for your school. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Give me liberty or give me death! Read my lips! Tear down this wall! The time for change has come! No man is an island. But if you vote for me, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness shall not perish from this earth. Thank you.”

  Everybody was going crazy. Alexia was the first one to congratulate me.

  “That was terrific, A.J.!”

  “What did I just say?” I asked her.

  “Who cares?” she replied. “Listen to that applause!”

  On the other side of the steps, I saw that Andrea was going around shaking hands with everybody. So I figured I had to do that too. My bodyguards surrounded me as I walked around shaking hands with people on the sidewalk. That’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened.