Party Poopers Read Online Free

thought.
    But, hey, does the great Bernie B. give up after only one try?
    I knew I could prove to Jennifer that I was a lowly worm who didn’t deserve her.
    Don’t worry your head about this dude. I knew I could think up some other ideas that totally rocked!

Chapter 11
T HE B IG R ODENT H UNT
    The next morning we had an assembly in the auditorium about the All-Nighter. Every seat was filled. Kids were laughing and talking. Belzer saved me a seat in the third row.
    My friend Beast stood up in the aisle. Beast is a good guy, but no one really knows if he’s animal or human. In class, Mrs. Heinie keeps him on a leash, which I don’t think is fair.
    Beast pulled off his school uniform shirt and started playing “America the Beautiful” on his armpit. The dude has armpit hair that goes down tohis waist. So it was pretty gross to look at him.
    But no one can play armpit like Beast. He plays with so much enthusiasm and skill! He started squeezing out some rap beats with both armpits and had the whole auditorium boogying!
    I looked up and saw Mr. and Mrs. Pocketlint walk onto the stage. They both had their hands pressed over their ears. They like classical stuff like Mozart and Beethoven. You could tell they don’t care for armpit music.
    The Pocketlints are the dorm parents in Nyce House. Mr. Pocketlint has a slender, pink face, a very long, pointed nose, and tiny, blue eyes, very close together. He looks a lot like one of those anteaters you see in cartoons.
    His wife has gray hair piled high on her head. She has large, gray eyes and a big, snooty nose that always seems to be sniffing the air.
    They waved their arms and shouted for us all to be quiet. It took a long time for everyone to calm down.
    Beast took out a hairbrush and started brushing his armpit hair. He did it for a joke. And, of course,we all went wild, laughing and cheering him on.
    But the Pocketlints didn’t think armpit brushing was funny. Mr. Pocketlint slipped a dog leash onto Beast and led him out of the auditorium. We all booed and hissed.
    A few minutes later everyone finally settled down. Mrs. Pocketlint sniffed the air. Her husband returned and took out a large, white handkerchief and blew his nose into the microphone. It sounded a lot like Beast’s armpit music.
    â€œWe are the chaperones for the All-Nighter party,” Mrs. P. announced. “That means Sam and I will be watching your every move, making sure you don’t have as much fun as you’d like.”
    I think that was supposed to be a joke. But nobody laughed.
    Mr. P. cleared his throat. “The All-Nighter is a wonderful Rotten School tradition,” he said. “It started fifty years ago. A man named I.M. Pitiful was headmaster then. His wife had the idea for the party. Her name was Mrs. I.M. Pitiful.”
    â€œShe liked to stay out all night, prowling on her hands and knees in the grass, looking for field miceand other rodents,” Mrs. Pocketlint said. “I don’t think she ate them. I think she just liked to catch them.”
    â€œShe wasn’t crazy,” Mr. P. said. “It was a hobby. We all have hobbies, right? For example, I like to collect my own toenail clippings. I have two thousand of them in a jar in my room. I give each one a name. Nothing strange about that.”
    A hushed silence fell over the auditorium. Toenail clippings?
    â€œOne night Mrs. I.M. Pitiful decided that maybe Rotten School’s fourth, fifth, and sixth graders would like to stay out all night hunting rodents, too,” Mrs. P. said. “She decided it would be a girl-ask-boy rodent hunt. And that’s how the All-Nighter began.”
    â€œIt was a lot of fun,” her husband added. “Because no hands were allowed. You had to use your teeth.”
    They both chuckled.
    We all stared at them. No one made a sound.
    Mr. Pocketlint blew his nose loudly again. Then for a few moments he studied what he had done in his handkerchief.