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postnasal drip nagging at the back of his throat. He scrambled forward at top
speed, and
Judging a Great Man by His Socks__________________83
looked out. The vent opening was behind one of the baskets, where there were
no bleachers, about ten feet up off the floor. He stuck his nose up to the
grate and screamed,"Help!"
It was halftime, and the cheerleaders were doing their routines to loud
music. No one heard him. He grabbed the grating and tried to push it out, but
it wouldn't budge. Grimacing with determination, he squeezed his long body
around in the duct so that his feet were facing forward. Then he took a deep
breath, pulled his knees up to his chest, and let fly with a mighty kick.
The aluminum grating burst out of the wall, sailed through the air and, as
though aimed by an evil spirit, dropped into the pack of cheerleaders as they
prepared for their grand finale, the human pyramid. It conked Beverly Busby
right on the head. A loud scratch shrieked over the P.A. system as the needle
was abruptly dragged from the record.
Shocked, Beverly's wild eyes looked up and found the vent just as Douglas'
head poked out.
"Excuse me!" bellowed Douglas. "Could somebody please let my tour group out
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of the furnace room?"
84
7
Practical Jokers on the Loose
a
*n Monday morning, there was no question about it: The home ec room stank.
"Aw, man, this place isnastyl" exclaimed Kahlil, holding his nose.
"Maybe it's the leftover stink from the way you played on Saturday,"
suggested Carol sarcastically.
Waldo sat down heavily at his desk, groaning. The Minutemen had lost by forty
points, and showed no sign of improving  at least, not until a miracle
brought Commando back. What a season!
"Who could concentrate on basketball with that nut case coming out of the
wall?" shrilled Beverly.
"Come on," said Carol. "You weren't hurt. You're only mad because it was a
Twinkie."
"If it wasn't a Twinkie, it wouldn't have happened!" stormed Beverly. "He's a
homicidal maniac! He tried to kill me!"
Practical Jokers on the Loose_______________________85
"Yeah, right," called Waldo. "He kicked out that grating, and aimed it at you
from ten feet up."
Ms. Castlefield stood at her desk. "All right," she said tiredly. "Someone's
left food in one of the drawers, and it's gone bad over the weekend. They can
smell it upstairs in Mr. Silverman's office." This got a big cheer. "That will
do. Now, check your space, everybody. It's not exactly pleasant working in a
room that reeks like a garbage dump."
As the search began, Beverly called her friends together. "Listen," she said
in a low voice. "Have any of you guys heard of the Grand Knights of the
Exalted Karpoozi?"
"Isn't it the club with the weird sign-up sheet that's all taped together?"
asked Carol, checking under a cutlery rack.
"What do theydo?" Beverly persisted. "I've asked around, and I can't find one
person who's a member. I even mentioned it to Mr. Silverman. He's never heard
of any Grand Knights."
Waldo shrugged morosely. "Who cares?" With the basketball team losing, he
couldn't imagine any other subject capturing a student's interest.
"Well, you've got to admit it's kind of weird," said Beverly. "1 mean, I know
about every club and social thing that goes on in this school."
Carol laughed. "Why don't you just admit you can't stand the fact that
something could be going on, and you aren't even president, or on the
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executive board, or mixing in somehow?"
"It's not just that," argued Beverly. "I mean, usually the name of a club
tells what it is. The Chess Club plays chess; the Event Committee sets up
dances
86_______________________________THE TWINKIE SQUAD
and stuff; the Library Club talks about books. What do you do if you're a
Knight of the Karpoozi? What's a Karpoozi anyway?"
Kahlil dismissed the whole thing. "They sound like a bunch of morons to me."
He punctuated this by slamming a drawer shut.
"Not necessarily," said Beverly. "Maybe they're, like, intellectuals. Or it
could be a humor club, and they're going to put out an underground newspaper.
The ripped-up sheet could be a joke. You've got to admit humor is something we
need in this place, with all the Twinkies around, and the school smelling like
a cesspool!"
"Beverly," said the teacher sternly, "this isn't the time to hold court. We
have to find whatever's causing that smell."
"Sorry, ma'am."
But naturally, the inspection turned up nothing, as the source of the odor
was built into the ceiling.
The smell had even reached the conference room where the Special Discussion
Group met at three-thirty.
"Can't they fix it?" demanded Ric.
"But no one knows what it is," explained Julia, smiling.
"A curtain of terror descends on the school," Yo-landa intoned dramatically. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]