It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's Toiletman! #17 (George Brown, Class Clown) - Softcover

Nancy Krulik has written over one hundred books for children and young adults, including two New York Times Best Sellers. Her very first story (in first grade) was about how she wanted to be Mary Poppins because she wanted to dance in the park with Bert and the penguins.

Aaron Blecha was raised by a school of giant squid in Wisconsin and now lives with his family by the south English seaside. He works as an artist designing funny characters, animating cartoons, and illustrating books, including the Harry Hammer shark series. You can enjoy more of his weird creations at www.monstersquid.com.

CHAPTER ONE

“It’s so cold out here my boogers are freezing,” George Brown told his friend Alex as the boys trudged through the snow on their way to their friend Chris’s house.
 
“This wind is making my eyes tear,” Alex said. “It’s lucky the salt in tears keeps them from freezing. Can you imagine having icy eyeballs?”
 
“The only good thing about it being so cold,” George said, “is that none of the grown-ups are going to want to go outside and shovel their own walks, which means more money for us.”
 
George reached up and pushed Chris’s doorbell. A minute later Chris came to the door—in his pajamas!
 
“You can’t shovel in those,” Alex told him. “Put on your snow pants. We’ve got to get to work before some other kids start a shoveling business.”
 
Chris shook his head. “I can’t shovel today,” he told the boys.
 
“What are you talking about?” George said. “We planned it all out last night when they announced school was going to be closed.”
 
“I know,” Chris admitted. “But I’m working on my new Toiletman comic book. And I’m really on a roll. I can’t stop now.”
 
George frowned. He knew Chris loved making his comic books. But they were talking money here! “Can’t you draw later?” he asked.
 
“No. I have to get at least five pages drawn today to stay on my schedule,” Chris explained.
 
Alex and George looked at each other. What was Chris talking about?
 
“What schedule?” Alex asked him.
 
“Rodney said if I can draw a twenty-two-page Toiletman comic book, he would print it for me and sell it as a limited edition,” Chris explained. “He’s doing a special local-artists’-week promotion at his store. If I want to be part of it, I have to get this done really fast!”
 
“Wow,” George said. That was impressive. Rodney was the owner of the Made for Mutants Comic Book Shop. If Rodney thought Chris’s Toiletman comic was good enough to sell, it had to be really terrific.
 
“I’m sorry, guys,” Chris apologized. “But I can’t shovel snow with you today.”
 
“It’s okay,” Alex said. “Come on, George.”
 
George nodded. “Good luck with the comic,” he told Chris. “We’ll see you in school tomorrow.” He looked out at the mounds of snow and the gray clouds overhead. “If there is school,” he added. “You never know. It might snow again today!”
 
* * *
 
“Think of it this way,” Alex said a little while later as he and George shoveled the snow that had piled up outside George’s mom’s craft shop, Knit Wits. “We only have to split the money two ways, which means more money for each of us.”
 
“True.” George added a big pile of snow to the mound he and Alex were building off to the side of the store.
 
“What are you going to do with your cash?” Alex asked him.
 
George didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was afraid to open his mouth. Something awful might slip out if he did.
 
Bing-bong. Ping-pong.
 
The something awful was already bouncing around inside his belly.
 
There were bubbles in there. Hundreds of them. And they weren’t ordinary run-of-the-mill stomach bubbles, either. They were magical super-burp bubbles. And there would be trouble if those bubbles broke loose. There was always trouble when the magical super burp came around.
 
George’s bubble trouble had started right after his family moved to Beaver Brook. George’s dad was in the army, and his family moved around a lot, which meant George had been the new kid in school lots of times. So he understood that first days could be rotten. But this first day was the rottenest.
 
In his old school, George was the class clown. But George had promised himself that things were going to be different this time. No more pranks. No more making funny faces behind teachers’ backs. Unfortunately, George didn’t have to be a math whiz to figure out how many friends a new, unfunny kid makes on his first day of school. Zero. None. Nada.
 
That night, George’s parents took him out to Ernie’s Ice Cream Emporium just to cheer him up. While they were sitting outside and George was finishing his root beer float, a shooting star flashed across the sky. So George made a wish.
 
I want to make kids laugh—but not get into trouble.
 
Unfortunately, the star was gone before George could finish the wish. So only half came true—the first half.
 
A minute later, George had a funny feeling in his belly. It was like there were hundreds of tiny bubbles bouncing around in there. The bubbles ping-ponged their way into his chest, and bing-bonged their way up into his throat. And then . . .
 
George let out a big burp. A huge burp. A SUPER burp!
 
The super burp was loud, and it was magic.
 
Suddenly George lost control of his arms and legs. It was like they had minds of their own. His hands grabbed straws and stuck them up his nose like a walrus. His feet jumped up on the table and started dancing the hokey pokey.
 
Everyone at Ernie’s Ice Cream Emporium started laughing—except George’s parents, who were covered in the ice cream he’d kicked over while he was dancing.
 
After that night, the burp came back over and over again. And every time it did, it made a mess of things. That was why George couldn’t let that burp burst out of him now—not right in front of his mom’s store.
 
But the magical super burp really wanted to come out and play.
 
Cling-clang. Fling-flang. The bubbles were beating on his bladder and leaping over his lungs.
 
Boing-bong. The bubbles trampled onto George’s tongue.
 
Gling-glong. They gathered on his gums.
 
And then . . . 
 
Bubble, bubble, George was in trouble.
 
“Dude! No!” Alex shouted.
 
Dude, yes! The magical super burp was free. Now George had to do whatever the burp wanted to do.
 
And what the burp wanted to do was have a snowball fight!
 
George’s hands reached down for some snow. They packed it into a tight ball and . . .
 
Bam! George pelted Alex right in the leg with the snowball.
 
“Hey!” Alex shouted. “Okay. You asked for it!” He bent down to pick up some snow of his own.
 
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Before Alex could even stand up, George pelted him with four more snowballs—right in the rear end.
 
Normally, George would never have been able to make that many snowballs that fast. But it’s a little-known fact that magical super burps are snowball-making machines.
 
Alex stood up. He tried to run away from the oncoming snowballs.
 
But the burp was ready for him.
 
George threw a snowball at Alex’s head with his left hand. He threw a snowball at Alex’s belly with his right hand.
 
Alex tried to leap out of the way.
 
George threw a snowball at Alex’s knees. He threw another at his shoulder.
 
Alex moved to the left.
 
Bam! George got him in the gut.
 
Alex jumped to right.
 
Bam! George slammed him in the ribs.
 
“George, stop that right now!”
 
George heard a familiar voice. He turned around to see his mother. She had come outside to see what was going on.
 
“Get back to work!” his mother told him. “I need this sidewalk shoveled so my customers can get through.”
 
George wanted to get back to work. He really did. But burps don’t like to work. Burps just want to have fun.
 
So George made another snowball. And another. And another. Then he started juggling the snowballs. Throwing and catching. Throwing and catching.
 
George’s mom walked toward him, scolding, “Stop that now. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you!”
 
“Dude! Stop!” Alex pleaded
 
But George couldn’t stop. The
burp wouldn’t let him. Throw. Catch. Throw . . .
 
SPLAT! A snowball hit George’s mom, right on top of her head.
 
Her eyes grew really big. She was really surprised.
 
Pop! Just then, George felt something burst in the bottom of his belly. All the air rushed out of him. The magical super burp was gone.
 
But George was still there. And so was his mom. She had snow in her hair. It was dripping down her cheeks and over her nose.
 
Alex didn’t look any happier. He was staring at all the snow he was going to have to shovel all over again now that George had thrown it all over the place.
 
“What do you have to say for yourself?” George’s mother asked him angrily.
 
George opened his mouth to say, “I’m sorry.” And that’s exactly what came out.
 
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be if you don’t start shoveling,” his mother said.
 
George picked up his shovel and got right back to work.
 
He frowned as his mom walked back into her craft shop. Stupid super burp. It was always getting him in trouble. And it never stuck around long enough to take the blame.