Attack of the Mutant Underwear Read Online Free

help with the (gulp!) speech I have to make on election day. So I told Emerson he could be my campaign manager.
    You’d think I’d told him he’d won a million dollars. He whirled around with a big ear-to-ear grin on his face. “I’ll get you into office, Cody!” he said. “Just leave everything to me!”
    Wednesday, September 27
    This morning my new campaign manager said, “The first thing we have to do is create a campaign slogan for you. Something that will appeal to the voting public, like ‘Friend of the People!’ or ‘Cody’s the One!’”
    During math I came up with a list of better suggestions:
    1. Don’t be toady—vote for Cody!
    2. Four out of five doctors recommend Cody—the fifth one’s a bozo brain!
    3. Vote for Cody—it’s easier than thinking!
    4. If you carrot all, peas vote for Cody! (Pretty punny, huh?)
    5. (My personal favorite.) Don’t pick your nose—pick Cody!
    Despite how good those were, in the end we decided to keep it simple—“Vote for Cody” with three exclamation marks at the end, which is like shouting—VOTE FOR CODY!!!
    Even with all this election stuff, Amy and Libby are still having a pencil length contest. Their #2s are so short, they have to write with their hands in little fists. Looks uncomfortable to me. But hey, whatever floats your boat.
    Saturday, September 30
    Emma left the water on again in the bathroom. Dad had to shut it off under the sink.
    MC keeps saying it’s not her turn to clean out Emma’s litter box, whether it is or not. Mom and Dad are no help. They think we need to work it out ourselves. The only problem is that it’s getting to be less work to just go ahead and do the job than fight with MC about it. But if I do that, then I get mad, because that’s not fair. There’s GOT to be a way I can make MC do her share.
    Sunday, October 1
    Jordy—the little kid with the big ears—came over again. He and MC spent the whole afternoon finding dead bugs and gluing them onto a piece of cardboard.
    Emerson called after dinner to tell me I’m behind in the polls, and we’d better come up with a new strategy quick … like chocolate. “We could give it away,” he said, “along with campaign buttons, to every kid in the school! That would get the vote out!”
    Chocolate is my favorite food, of course, but I reminded Emerson that chocolate costs money, and that there are over 450 kids at Garfield Elementary School.
    Emerson said, “You need to invest in your future.” Which was his way of saying that to win I’ve got to spend big bucks.
    I said, “But I’ve only got thirteen dollars and eighty-five cents. How about we test the chocolate giveaway thing first, to see if it works? On a small group. Of small eaters.”
    â€œKindergartners!” Emerson said. “We’ll slip the chocolate to them and a cool ‘Vote for Cody!!!’ button at lunch. You give them a little speech, and they’ll be fighting to vote for you!”
    â€œSpeech?” I said. I’d been working hard to forget that word. “I’m not ready yet.”
    Emerson said, “Sure you are! Just a short—”
    â€œNo!”
    There was a long silence in which I could hear Emerson let out a long, low sigh. Finally he said, “Okay, no speech tomorrow. We’ll just give away the chocolate and—hey, I’ve got it! You can pull the chocolate and buttons out of a hat so it will look like a magic trick! Voters expect politicians to do magic!”
    I said, “But I can’t do magic.”
    â€œI’ll teach you!” Emerson said. “No big deal. It’s easy!”
    Monday, October 2
    My dictionary defines easy as “requiring little thought or effort.”
    Notice, however, that there is nothing anywhere in that definition about pulling off the first magic trick of your political