31 - Night of the Living Dummy II Read Online Free Page A

of kids, I needed a long comedy act.
    The next day after school, I hurried to the library. I took out every joke
book I could find. I carried them home and studied them. I wrote down all the
jokes I thought I could use with Slappy.
    After dinner, I should have been doing my homework. Instead, I practiced with
Slappy. I sat in front of the mirror and watched myself with him.
    I tried hard to speak clearly but not move my lips. And I tried hard to move
Slappy’s mouth so that it really looked as if he were talking.
    Working his mouth and moving his eyes at the same time was pretty hard. But
after a while, it became easier.
    I tried some knock-knock jokes with Slappy. I thought little kids might like
those.
    “Knock knock,” I made Slappy say.
    “Who’s there?” I asked him, staring into his eyes as if I were really talking
to him.
    “Jane,” Slappy said.
    “Jane who?”
    “Jane jer clothes. You stink!”
    I practiced each joke over and over, watching myself in the mirror. I wanted to be a really good ventriloquist. I wanted to
be excellent. I wanted to be as good with Slappy as Sara is with her paints.
    I practiced some more knock-knock jokes and some jokes about animals. Jokes I
thought little kids would find funny.
    I’ll try them out on Family Sharing Night, I decided. It will make Dad happy
to see how hard I’m working with Slappy. At least I know Slappy’s head won’t
fall off.
    I glanced across the room at Dennis. He looked so sad and forlorn, crumpled
in the chair, his head tilted nearly sideways on his shoulders.
    Then I propped Slappy up and turned back to the mirror.
    “Knock knock.”
    “Who’s there?”
    “Wayne.”
    “Wayne who?”
    “Wayne wayne, go away! Come again another day!”
     
    On Thursday night, I was actually eager to finish dinner so that Sharing
Night could begin. I couldn’t wait to show my family my new act with Slappy.
    We had spaghetti for dinner. I like spaghetti, but Jed always ruins it.
    He’s so gross. He sat across the table from me, and he kept opening his mouth
wide, showing me a mouth full of chewed-up spaghetti.
    Then he’d laugh because he cracks himself up. And spaghetti sauce would run
down his chin.
    By the time dinner was over, Jed had spaghetti sauce smeared all over his
face and all over the tablecloth around his plate.
    No one seemed to notice. Mom and Dad were too busy listening to Sara brag
about her grades. For a change.
    Report cards were being handed out tomorrow. Sara was sure she was getting
all A’s.
    I was sure, too. Sure I wasn’t getting all A’s!
    I’d be lucky to get a C in math. I really messed up the last two tests. And I
probably wasn’t going to do real well in science, either. My weather balloon
project fell apart, so I hadn’t handed it in yet.
    I finished my spaghetti and mopped up some of the leftover sauce on my plate
with a chunk of bread.
    When I glanced up, Jed had stuck two carrot sticks in his nose. “Amy, check
this out. I’m a walrus!” he cried, grinning. He let out a few urk urks and clapped his hands together like a walrus.
    “Jed—stop that!” Mom cried sharply. She made a disgusted face. “Get those out
of your nose.”
    “Make him eat them, Mom!” I cried.
    Jed stuck his tongue out at me. It was orange from the spaghetti sauce.
    “Look at you. You’re a mess!” Mom shouted at Jed. “Go get cleaned up. Now!
Hurry! Wash all that sauce off your face.”
    Jed groaned. But he climbed to his feet and headed to the bathroom.
    “Did he eat anything? Or did he just rub it all over himself?” Dad asked,
rolling his eyes. Dad had some sauce on his chin, too, but I didn’t say
anything.
    “You interrupted me,” Sara said impatiently. “I was telling you about the
State Art Contest. Remember? I sent my flower painting in for that?”
    “Oh, yes,” Mom replied. “Have you heard from the judges?”
    I didn’t listen to Sara’s reply. My mind wandered. I started thinking again
about how bad my