Chapter Sixteen Quiz
1. Oh no! How am I going to get out of this one?
2. Why are you wasting time taking this quiz? There's a teacher with an axe after me! Get moving to the next chapter!
3. I mean it, stop lollygagging on this page! She's coming after me! She's coming closer! Closer! AAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!!!
SCOOPY AND I LET out a scream as she raised the axe above her head. "Knock off that screaming," she said, "or I'll kill you even worse."
I wasn't sure exactly how that would work, but it sounded pretty bad so I stopped screaming. Scoopy stopped too.
"Yes, I killed my husbands," she said, taking a step forward. "My first husband, Charles, wouldn't stop snoring no matter what I did, until I found that you can't snore very well...without a head!"
Scoopy and I rushed into the kitchen. It seemed like a good idea until we entered the kitchen and saw that there wasn't a door. There was a window, but we'd never be able to squeeze through it even if we broke it.
We pressed ourselves against the far wall as Mrs. Logan walked into the kitchen, the axe still high above her head. "My second husband, Ralph, didn't snore, but he had the worst morning breath you can imagine. We tried every kind of mouthwash there is, until I finally realized that you can't have bad breath... without a head!"
"Please don't kill us!" I said. "We won't tell anyone!"
"That's very sweet of you," said Mrs. Logan, "but I don't believe it for a second. Now where was I? Oh, yes. My third husband, Simon, didn't snore or have bad breath, but he chewed with his mouth open! I told him over and over, 'Simon, don't chew with your mouth open. It's very rude.' But he wouldn't stop until I showed him that you can't chew with your mouth open...without a head!"
I picked up a jar from the counter and threw it at her. She swung the axe and shattered it in what was really a pretty impressive display of batting ability. Scoopy picked up a blender and threw it, but since it was still plugged in and he didn't throw it very hard it just sort of dropped off the counter and dangled.
"My fourth husband, Donald, was my favorite husband of all," said Mrs. Logan. "He didn't snore or have bad breath or chew with his mouth full of food. What he did do was burp. I hate people who burp. And I showed Donald that it's not very easy to burp...after you've eaten poisoned cookies!"
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Scoopy and I screamed.
"But not the same cookies I gave you," Mrs. Logan said.
Scoopy and I sighed with relief.
Mrs. Logan took another step closer to us. "I'm not happy about having to kill you boys, I hope you know that. If it were up to me, I'd strap you into some machine that wipes away your memory and let you go. But those machines are expensive, and I've heard that in one instance it left a man thinking he was a radish, so it's going to have to be the axe."
At that moment, we heard the front door open. Mrs. Logan turned to see who it was, and Mrs. Webster burst into the kitchen, holding a shotgun.
"Let them go, Logan," she snarled. "If you want to fight, fight somebody with a shotgun."
"Mrs. Webster! I love you!" I shouted.
"Save it, McBugle." Mrs. Webster glared at Mrs. Logan. "Put the axe down. I've already called the police. It's over."
"It can't be over. Nobody's dead yet."
"Your fourth husband is," I pointed out.
"He doesn't count." Mrs. Logan took another step toward us. "Come on, Mrs. Webster. You don't like these boys. Let's do it together."
"Elrod and I have had our differences, I'll admit," said Mrs. Webster. "But he's still a fully-registered student at Greenwater Junior High, and I'll defend him to the death!"
"Fine," said Mrs. Logan, spinning around and rushing at her with the axe.
Mrs. Webster pulled the trigger. There was a huge gunshot, and the head of the axe blew right off the handle. Mrs. Logan stared at her ruined weapon, quite displeased.
"You've ruined my axe!" she wailed. "Now what am I going to use to remember my first three husbands by?"
"Put down the handle," said Mrs. Webster. "Slowly."
Mrs. Logan rushed at her again, the handle raised over her head. Mrs. Webster fired off another shot, blowing the handle in half.
"You've ruined my handle!" wailed Mrs. Logan. "Now I'm going to ruin
you
!"
"I don't think so," said Mrs. Webster. As Mrs. Logan rushed at her again, holding the half-handle above her head, Mrs. Webster smacked her in the face with the shotgun barrel. Mrs. Logan dropped to the floor and didn't move.
"You saved us!" Scoopy declared. "You're our hero!"
"You're the best home room teacher ever!" I exclaimed.
Mrs. Webster gave us both a disapproving look. "You're lucky I heard you two screaming. But didn't your parents ever teach you not to visit the homes of raging lunatics?"
"I guess not," I admitted.
Suddenly Mrs. Logan leapt to her feet. "It's not over yet! I'll have my...no, wait...I'm feeling pretty dizzy...oh, yeah, down I go again..." She fell back onto the floor, unconscious.
"Let's scram," said Mrs. Webster.
THE POLICE ARRIVED shortly afterward, and took Mrs. Logan away. The only math she'd be teaching from now on was in the slammer.
Mrs. Webster was given a medal of honor by the mayor of Greenwater, and a certificate by the principal. She seemed very touched by the honor, but she still wouldn't let me go anywhere near her.
Scoopy and I, having braved the terrors of Mrs. Logan, were celebrities around school for a couple days. Everyone wanted us to share the details of our exciting adventure, which we were glad to do (minus a couple of our louder screams). But then the replacement teacher, Mr. Arlen, was brought in, and he was the strictest, meanest, most test-happy teacher anyone had ever seen. Everyone hated me again.
"I REALIZE YOU HAVE a good excuse for not finishing your interview," said Mr. Rodriguez after class one day. "But I'd like to propose something a little more substantial to make up for it. Have you ever thought about writing a book?"
"Not really."
"I think the whole adventure with Mrs. Logan would make a pretty good story, or at least the action-packed conclusion to a story. Not many kids get books published, but you did live through quite an ordeal, and I think a lot of people would want to read about it."
"You really think so?"
"Certainly. And I'd be happy to look at it if you wanted, or give you any help you needed."
"Nah," I said. "Books are boring."
And so I never wrote one.
Okay, I'm kidding. I wrote the very book you're reading at this very moment. Mr. Rodriguez did give me some constructive criticism, but all the eyeball gags were mine.
And you know what? My fingers are starting to get tired, so I think I'm going to wrap this up. But it's been a lot of fun. I've got plenty more to say, so I might write another one sometime. I might write a whole series of them! I might write them until the end of time! Hahahahaha! Beware, people! You're going to have Elrod McBugle books everywhere you look! There'll be no escape! You'll all be my prisoners! Beware! Beware! Beware!
Sorry. I'm calm now.
And I'm done now.
No more quizzes. Class dismissed.
Jeff Strand grew up in Alaska, where his parents insist that he had a normal childhood, no matter what you might think after reading his novels. His outrageously warped books include
Graverobbers Wanted (No Experience Necessary)
,
Single White Psychopath Seeks Same
,
How to Rescue a Dead Princess
,
Elrod McBugle on the Loose
,
and
Out of Whack.
He's a past President of the Electronically Published Internet Connection, an international organization of professional authors, which he rules with an iron fist and a wooden paddle. He's also "host for life" of the annual EPPIES awards banquet, which gives him the opportunity to act goofy in front of a large audience and wear a tuxedo, not necessarily in that order.
Jeff lives in Tampa, Florida with one wife and one mentally questionable cat. In his day job he's a remittance processing analyst, which is even more exciting than it sounds.
You can visit his Seriously Whacked website at:
www.jeffstrand.com
and subscribe to his ridiculous but free newsletter
by sending an e-mail to:
[email protected]
0759943362
Elrod McBugle on the Loose
Jeff Strand
9/29/2006
2006 Jeff Strand; Cover art by Mary Z.. Wolf
Hard Shell Word Factory
Young Adult
A comedy for kids...and adults who were warped as kids! The students at Greenwater Junior High have said they'll never forget this year, and Elrod McBugle is the reason. He's not a bad person. He doesn't TRY to get in trouble, cause mayhem, and occasionally blow things up...it just happens. And it's going to happen again and again! Share Elrod's hilarious adventures as he faces the wrath of the Slurpy Gulp Beverage Company, tries to become a millionaire selling homemade bubble gum, survives a wild squirrel attack, tries to find out if his math teacher is an axe murderer, and much, much more! Watch out, everyone...Elrod McBugle is on the loose!