Ms. Hall Is a Goofball! Read online

  “Me!” shouted the plant eaters.

  Ms. Hall told them to open their mouths. Then she flipped carrot slices into their mouths from across the room. Cool!

  “Those carrots actually smell pretty good,” Michael said.

  “Don’t be tempted, Michael,” Alexia told him. “Remember, you belong to the Veggie Haters Club. We don’t eat veggies. Ever.”

  “Mmmmm!” said Andrea. “Roasted carrots are yummy!”

  Michael reached his hand out toward a piece of roasted carrot.

  “The force,” he said, “is . . . very . . . powerful.”

  “Don’t switch over to the dark side, Michael!” I yelled.

  “I can’t help it, man,” Michael groaned. “I want to eat one.”

  “Noooooooooo!” I shouted, just before Michael put a piece of carrot in his mouth.

  He chewed it for a few seconds, and then he swallowed it.

  “I like it!” he said. “I like carrots! I’m sorry, A.J.”

  Ms. Hall smiled.

  “You are out of the Veggie Haters Club!” I shouted at Michael. “I will never speak to you again for the rest of my life.”

  Look down.*

  Michael and Ryan were now officially out of the Veggie Haters Club forever. After school, Neil, Alexia, and I held an emergency meeting in the playground. We put our hands together the way sports teams do before a big game.

  “I solemnly swear,” we all said, “we will stick together through thick and thin. We will refuse to eat veggies no matter what.”

  On Monday morning, we were in Mr. Cooper’s class.

  “Turn to page twenty-three in your—”

  He never got the chance to finish his sentence because an announcement came over the loudspeaker.

  “ALL GRADES, PLEASE REPORT TO THE ALL-PURPOSE ROOM.”

  “Not again!” shouted Mr. Cooper.

  We walked a million hundred miles to the all-purpose room, which should really have a different name because you can’t ride dirt bikes in there. I sat with Neil and Alexia.

  That’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened. Purple smoke started pouring onto the stage. The sound of drums pounded out of the speakers. Then the lights went out, and laser beams started shooting around in all different colors.

  The drums got louder! The lights got brighter! And you’ll never believe who jumped up onto the stage.

  I’m not going to tell you.

  Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. It was Mr. Hynde, our old music teacher! He left our school after he appeared on American Idol and became a famous rapper.

  “Gimme a beet!” Mr. Hynde shouted.

  We all started making beatboxing sounds.

  “No, not a B-E-A-T,” shouted Mr. Hynde. “A beet! Gimme a B-E-E-T!”

  Ms. Hall came running over and handed him a beet. Mr. Hynde ate it. Then he started break dancing and spinning on his head. Then he started rapping. . . .

  “You say tomatoes. Well, so do I.

  I’d rather eat tomatoes than apple pie.

  All the teens like to eat their greens,

  and my favorite one is lima beans.

  I like dill and I always will.

  You’ll never fail if you eat kale.

  I’ll always finish my plate of spinach.

  Black-eyed peas, if you please.

  I’ll take a glass of that wheat grass.

  I got no stress when I eat watercress.

  Only a bumpkin don’t love pumpkin.

  Cauliflower gives me the power.

  Don’t be a weenie. Just eat a zucchini.

  I won’t hustle. My sprouts are Brussels.

  Just don’t shriek when I take a leek.

  I’m not joking, I’m artichoking.”

  Everybody was going crazy. Mr. Hynde was out of his mind! He started beating on Mr. Klutz’s bald head like it was a bongo drum. The rest of our teachers made a line behind Mr. Hynde and started kicking their legs up like the Rockettes. Ms. Hall was roller-skating around and dancing. It was cool, and I saw it with my own eyes!

  Well, it would be pretty hard to see something with somebody else’s eyes.

  “What a spectacle!” Neil said.

  That made no sense at all. What did glasses have to do with anything?

  We all stood up to give Mr. Hynde a standing ovation.

  After that, Ms. Hall roller-skated around the all-purpose room with a basket.

  “Who wants a veggie?” she shouted, tossing little red tomatoes, rutabagas, and other veggies into the crowd.

  “Me!” the plant eaters shouted. “I do!”

  “Not me!” said me and Alexia.

  I looked over at Neil. He wasn’t saying anything.

  “Uh . . . ,” Neil finally said. “I . . . uh . . .”

  “No!” I yelled at Neil. “Don’t do it!”

  “But watching Mr. Hynde rap makes me want a veggie!” Neil said.

  “You’re in the Veggie Haters Club!” Alexia shouted at him. “Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “We took an oath, Neil!” I told him. “We swore we would be veggie haters for life!”

  Ms. Hall came over and handed Neil a beet.

  “Don’t do it!” I shouted desperately.

  Neil put the beet in his mouth.

  “Noooooooooo!”

  “Ummm,” he said. “Yum!”

  Ms. Hall smiled.

  “You are banished from the Veggie Haters Club forever,” I told Neil angrily. “I will never speak to you again for the rest of my life.”

  Look up.*

  Now the Veggie Haters Club was just me and Alexia. Everybody else had joined the ranks of the plant eaters. This was the worst thing to happen since TV Turnoff Week.

  The next day at lunch, Alexia and I sat at our own table in the corner. We were both feeling sad. I didn’t even enjoy my sloppy joe.

  “Carnivores!” shouted my ex-friends at the other table.

  “Herbivores!” Alexia and I shouted back.

  Ms. Hall had a big smile on her face as she roller-skated around the vomitorium with a big cardboard box.

  “Who wants snacks?” she hollered.

  “We do!” shouted all the plant eaters.

  Ms. Hall was tossing out little bags of stuff. Then she got to our table.

  “How about you two?” she asked. “Would you like a snack, dollface?”

  “No thank you,” I said politely. “I don’t eat veggies.”

  “Oh, these aren’t veggie snacks,” Ms. Hall replied. “These are junk food snacks.”

  “Junk food snacks?” asked Alexia.

  Ms. Hall reached into the box she had been carrying and pulled out a bag. It looked like a bag of potato chips. It said “Kale Krunchies” on it, and there was a picture of a kangaroo.

  “Hmmm, those look good,” Alexia said.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I told her.

  “That kangaroo is cute,” Alexia said, “and the chips look kind of like junk food.”

  “They’re cool ranch flavored,” said Ms. Hall. “You’ll love ’em!”

  “It’s a trick,” I told Alexia. “They just made those veggies look like junk food to get us to eat them. Don’t be fooled.”

  Ms. Hall reached into the box.

  “Let’s see,” she said, going through the other snacks. “I’ve got X-Ray Carrots, Turbo Tomatoes, Broccoli Bombs, Cool Cucumbers, Pepper Poppers, Mean Green Bean Machines, Mississippi Munchies, and Zucchini Zambonis.”

  “Hmmm . . . ,” said Alexia.

  “I’ll tell you what,” said Ms. Hall. “I’ll give each of you a dollar if you just take one bite. One little bite.”

  “That’s not fair,” I told Ms. Hall. “That’s a bribe!”

  “Yes, it is,” Ms. Hall replied. “I’m so desperate that I’ll bribe you kids to eat veggies.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I said. “Well, we wouldn’t eat a veggie if you paid us a million dollars. Right, Alexia?”

  “You’ll give me a dollar if I ta
ke one bite?” asked Alexia.

  “One little nibble,” said Ms. Hall.

  “I can use the dollar to buy candy,” said Alexia.

  “Don’t do it!” I told her.

  Ms. Hall took a dollar from her pocket and dangled it in front of Alexia’s face.

  Alexia took the bag of Cool Ranch Kale Krunchies.

  She ripped it open.

  Then she put a chip in her mouth.

  “Noooooooooo!”

  Ms. Hall smiled.

  Well, that was that. All my friends had abandoned me. There was only one person left in the Veggie Haters Club.

  Me.

  Who needs the rest of those plant eaters anyway? Let ’em eat their veggies, I say. Nobody’s gonna tell me what to put in my mouth.

  The next morning in Mr. Cooper’s class, we pledged the allegiance and did our word of the day. Then we had math. Then we had social studies.

  I was starting to get hungry for lunch.

  Then we had fizz ed. After that, we had reading.

  “Isn’t it time for lunch yet?” I asked Mr. Cooper.

  “Lunch is going to be a little later today,” he told me.

  Then we had science. Then we had spelling.

  My stomach was starting to rumble. I looked at the clock. It was after one. We usually eat at twelve o’clock.

  “Can we go to lunch now?” I asked Mr. Cooper.

  “Soon,” he replied.

  Then we had library. Then we had computer class.

  It was almost two o’clock! Soon it would be time for dismissal. I was starving. I didn’t know how long I could hold out without food. I was starting to feel sleepy. I thought I might pass out right there at my desk.

  “Lunchtime!” Mr. Cooper announced.

  “Finally!” I said, grabbing my lunch box. We pringled up and walked a million hundred miles to the vomitorium. When we got there, I staggered over to a table in the corner all by myself.

  “Need . . . food,” I moaned. “Going . . . to . . . die.”

  Ms. Hall was walking around with a bowl filled with snap peas.

  “Who wants veggies?” she shouted.

  “I do!” all the plant eaters were yelling.

  “No thanks,” I said. “I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

  That’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened. I opened my lunch box.

  Well, that’s not the weird part. I open my lunch box every day. The weird part was what happened when I looked inside my lunch box.

  MY PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY SANDWICH WAS MISSING!

  Noooooooo!

  This was the worst thing to happen since National Poetry Month! I wanted to run away to Antarctica and go live with the penguins.

  I fell off my chair and started crawling across the floor.

  “Need . . . food!” I groaned. “So . . . hungry! I’m . . . starving!”

  “Mmm, these snap peas are really good, A.J.,” said Ryan.

  “Yeah, you should try ’em,” said Michael.

  “Come on, doll face,” said Ms. Hall. “Give peas a chance.”

  Then she started singing, and soon everybody in the vomitorium began singing with her.

  “All we are saying . . . is give peas a chance.”

  Ms. Hall got down on her hands and knees, putting her face right next to mine.

  “You know you want it, dollface,” she whispered, holding a snap pea a few inches from my mouth. “You want it bad.”

  I was so hungry. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. I was faced with the hardest decision of my life. Everybody in the vomitorium was looking at me.*

  “Okay, okay!” I shouted. “You win!”

  I opened my mouth.

  Ms. Hall put the snap pea in my mouth.

  I chewed it.

  I swallowed it.

  It was totally silent in the vomitorium. Everybody was on the edge of their seats.

  Well, not really. They were just sitting in the middle of them, like always. But there was electricity in the air.

  Well, not exactly. If there was electricity in the air, we would all have been electrocuted. But it was really exciting!

  “So?” said Ms. Hall. “What do you think, dollface?”

  “Not bad,” I replied. “Can I have another one?”

  Well, that’s pretty much what happened. I guess I’m a plant eater now.

  Maybe I’ll speak to my old friends in the Veggie Haters Club again. Maybe Ms. Hall will stop calling me dollface. Maybe she’ll stop running dishwashers and bring home the bacon instead of taking candy from babies and eating crows. Maybe Ms. LaGrange is locked up in the freezer. Maybe we’ll find out what the mystery meat is. Maybe beasts will come to the city. Maybe we’ll have to eat Vinkies and food made out of toes. Maybe they’ll start selling peppers with toys inside them and portable meat spray in a can. Maybe Ms. Hall will stop juggling knives and tossing carrot slices into her hat. Maybe cavemen will start eating Twinkies. Maybe Ryan and I will dig a hole to China so we can get some shrimp lo mein. Maybe all the boys will have to sleep on cots. Maybe I’ll win tickets to DizzyLand. Maybe they’ll let us ride dirt bikes in the all-purpose room. Maybe Ms. Hall will get out of her pickle, clean the egg off her face, and learn how to cut the mustard so she doesn’t have to work in a salt mine anymore.

  But it won’t be easy!

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Courtesy of Dan Gutman and Jim Paillot

  DAN GUTMAN has written many weird books for kids. He lives with his weird wife in New York (a very weird place). You can visit him on his weird website at www.dangutman.com.

  JIM PAILLOT lives in Arizona (another weird place) with his weird wife and two weird children. Isn’t that weird? You can visit him on his weird website at www.jimpaillot.com.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

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  Copyright

  MY WEIRDEST SCHOOL #12: MS. HALL IS A GOOFBALL! Text copyright © 2018 by Dan Gutman. Illustrations copyright © 2018 by Jim Paillot. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  www.harpercollinschildrens.com

  Cover art © 2018 by Jim Paillot

  * * *

  Digital Edition OCTOBER 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-242947-6

  Print ISBN: 978-0-06-242945-2

  ISBN 978-0-06-242945-2 (pbk. bdg.)—ISBN 978-0-06-242946-9 (library bdg.)

  * * *

  1819202122CG/BRR10987654321

  FIRST EDITION

  *

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  * Wow, I didn’t know so many people had respiratory problems.

  * If the K is silent, why is it there? If you ask me, they should get rid of the letter K.

  * It used to be called the cafetorium. But then some first grader threw up in there.

  * That makes no sense at all. Why do we have to make horse noises?

  * Wow, she sure uses a lot of food idioms!

  * Ha! Made you look down!

  * Ha-ha! Made you look down again!

  * Why did you look down? I told you to look up!

  * Isn’t this exciting? I bet you’re on pins and needles. Well, you should get off them. That must hurt.