Miss Aker Is a Maker!

by Dan Gutman

Mr. Klutz and Droney pushed their arms against each other. They were pushing really hard.

  “Droney is strong!” Mr. Klutz groaned as his hand was pushed back. It hit the table, and then Mr. Klutz fell on the floor.

  “Droney wins!” we all shouted.

  “Owwwww!” groaned Mr. Klutz. “I think I sprained my arm.”

  “I AM STRONGER THAN ANY HUMAN BEING,” announced Droney.

  Wow, Droney is like a superhero with superpowers! We all gathered around Mr. Klutz and helped him off the floor.

  “I AM BETTER THAN EVERY HUMAN BEING,” announced Droney.

  “Well, I don’t know about that!” said Mr. Klutz as he rubbed his shoulder.

  We all laughed nervously. And then suddenly . . .

  Briiiiiinnnnnnggggg!

  It was the dismissal bell. Time to go home.

  When we got to Mr. Cooper’s class the next morning, he was already there, sitting with his feet up on his desk and playing a violin. That was weird. I didn’t even know Mr. Cooper played violin. He was playing a sad song.

  “Uh . . . should we pledge the allegiance?” Ryan asked.

  “If you want,” Mr. Cooper replied without looking up.

  “Are we going to do Word of the Day?” asked Michael.

  “I don’t care,” mumbled Mr. Cooper.

  “Should we turn to page twenty-three in our math books?” asked Alexia.

  “Whatever,” he replied.

  “Are you okay, Mr. Cooper?” asked Andrea.

  “Just go to the Fab Lab,” he muttered. “That’s where you’re going to end up anyway.”

  That was weird. We pringled up.

  “What’s wrong with Mr. Cooper?” asked Emily as we walked to the Fab Lab.

  “I think he’s sad because we’re spending so much time with Miss Aker,” said Andrea. Andrea’s mom is a psychologist, so she thinks she knows everything.

  Finally, we got to the Fab Lab.

  “Hey kids!” Miss Aker shouted. “It’s Maker Movement time!”

  “What are we going to make today?” asked Alexia.

  “Today we’re going to—”

  But Miss Aker didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence. Because that’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened. A lady walked into the room.

  Well, that’s not the weird part. Ladies walk into rooms all the time. The weird part was what happened after that.

  The lady looked familiar. She was wearing an old-timey man’s hat and a trench coat. There was a camera around her neck and a notepad in her hand. I knew I had seen her before.

  “It’s Mrs. Lilly!” Emily shouted.

  Emily was right! Mrs. Lilly is a reporter for our local paper, The News Tribune Bulletin Inquirer.

  “Hiya kids,” said Mrs. Lilly. “I got a hot tip that your school is part of the Maker Movement, and you made a robot. Is it true?”

  “Yes!” we shouted.

  “Are you going to put us in the newspaper?” asked Andrea.

  “Why not?” said Mrs. Lilly. “I’m always on the lookout for a good human-interest story.”

  I’m sure Andrea was imagining her picture in the paper and Mrs. Lilly’s article up on the refrigerator in Andrea’s kitchen. Her mom was sure to buy copies to send to all their relatives.

  I looked out the window and saw a big limo pull up to the front of the school. A lady got out, followed by a bunch of guys with camera equipment.

  I recognized the lady. She was the famous TV producer Ms. Beard. One time, she came to our school and filmed a reality show called The Real Teachers of Ella Mentry School. Ms. Beard came rushing into our class with her camera crew.

  “Are you the kids who made a robot on a 3D printer?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Neil. “Are you going to put us on TV?”

  “Sure!” said Ms. Beard. “I’m always on the lookout for a good human-interest story.”

  Everybody freaked out.

  “We’re gonna be on TV!” shouted Alexia.

  “We’re gonna be famous!” shouted Neil.

  “How do I look?” asked Andrea. “I have to fix my hair.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Is your hair broken?”

  Andrea rolled her eyes. The crew was running around, setting up lights, cameras, and microphones all over the Fab Lab. Andrea kept moving so she would be in front of the camera at all times.

  “This is going to be fabulous,” said Ms. Beard. “Our ratings are going to go through the roof!”

  “What do you want us to do?” asked Andrea.

  “Just act normal, Chickie Baby!” said Ms. Beard. “This is reality TV. We don’t use scripts. Nobody has lines. We just see what happens and film it.”

  I remembered that Ms. Beard calls everybody “Chickie Baby.” Nobody knows why.

  That’s when Mr. Klutz came into the Fab Lab. His arm was in a sling because of the arm-wrestling contest with Droney.

  “What’s all the commotion about?” Mr. Klutz asked.

  “Mrs. Lilly and Ms. Beard are going to put us in the newspaper and on TV!” said Andrea. She and Emily were jumping up and down with excitement.

  “TV?” asked Mr. Klutz.

  He started adjusting his tie and smoothing out his shirt. I’m sure he would have combed his hair, too, if he had any hair.

  “Welcome back to Ella Mentry School, ladies,” he said, smiling sweetly. “I’m the principal. If there’s anything I can do to—”

  “Fabulous, Chickie Baby!” said Ms. Beard. “Let’s do lunch sometime.”

  Mrs. Lilly was walking around the Fab Lab, looking at things and jotting down notes in her pad.

  “What happened to your arm?” she asked Mr. Klutz.

  “I was arm wrestling with Droney and things got . . . out of hand,” he said.

  “So you got into a fight with the drone?” Mrs. Lilly was writing furiously in her notebook.

  “Not exactly,” said Mr. Klutz. “What happened was—”

  “I can see the headline now,” interrupted Mrs. Lilly. “PRINCIPAL BREAKS ARM IN SAVAGE DRONE ATTACK!”

  “My arm isn’t broken,” said Mr. Klutz. “It’s just a little sore.”

  “How’s this for a catchy headline?” asked Mrs. Lilly. “PRINCIPAL MAY DIE!”

  “But . . . but . . . but . . .” said Mr. Klutz.

  We all started giggling because Mr. Klutz said “but,” which sounds just like “butt” even though it only has one T.*

  Ms. Beard was ready to start filming.

  “Okay,” she shouted. “Quiet on the set! Lights! Camera! Everybody act normal. ACTION!” Then she jumped in front of the camera.

  “This is Ms. Beard, reporting to you from Ella Mentry School,” she said. “The Maker Movement has come to third grade. These students have made what they call Droney, a wireless, radio-controlled, speech-synthesized flying robot that shoots marshmallows. I’m going to interview a few kids to find out what they think.”

  “OOOOOOH!” shouted Andrea. “Pick me!”

  Andrea waved her arms around like she was stranded on an island trying to signal a plane.

  Of course, Ms. Beard picked Andrea.

  “Tell us about the Maker Movement,” Ms. Beard said, sticking the mic in Andrea’s face.

  “We printed our robot on a 3D printer,” Andrea said, smiling into the camera. “Making things is so much fun! And it’s educational too!”

  What a brownnoser.

  “How about you, little girl?” Ms. Beard said, sticking the mic in Emily’s face.

  “I agree with everything Andrea said,” said Emily.

  Of course.

  “I understand your drone is very intelligent,” said Ms. Beard.

  “Oh yes,” said Mr. Klutz. “Droney even knows who invented the Band-Aid.”

  “IT WAS EARL DICKSON FROM NEW JERSEY,” said Droney.

  “Very impressive!” said Ms. Beard. “Can you sing a song, Droney?”

  “CERTAINLY,” replied Droney. “I CAN SING BETTER THAN ANY HUMAN
BEING. AND I HAVE MEMORIZED EVERY SONG THAT EVER EXISTED.”

  “Droney is kind of conceited,” I whispered to Ryan.

  “My favorite song is from Annie,” said Andrea, as if anybody asked.

  “THE SUN WILL COME OUT, TOMORROW . . .” droned Droney.

  Ugh. I hate that song.

  “Very good!” said Mrs. Lilly as Droney kept singing the horrible song. “This is a great human-interest story. I’m going to put it in the newspaper.”

  “And I’m going to put it on TV,” said Ms. Beard.

  “YAY!” we all shouted, which is also “YAY” backward. Being on TV and in the newspaper will be cool.

  That’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened.

  But I’m not going to tell you what it was.

  Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to read the next chapter. So nah-nah-nah boo-boo on you!

  When Droney finished singing that horrible song, Miss Aker suggested we take it outside for a test drive.

  “THAT IS AN EXCELLENT IDEA!” said Droney.

  We all went out to the playground. Miss Aker carried Droney and put it down carefully in the middle of the blacktop. Ms. Beard’s camera crew set up their equipment to shoot a video.

  “This is gonna be cool,” I said.

  “Okay, Droney,” said Miss Aker. “Show us what you can do. Go up!”

  Droney’s propellers started to spin and it made a humming noise. Slowly, the robot lifted up off the blacktop and hovered in the air about ten feet over our heads.

  “Ooooh,” everybody oooohed.

  “Go left, Droney!” ordered Miss Aker. Droney moved left.

  “Go right, Droney!” ordered Miss Aker. Droney moved right.

  “Go up, Droney!” ordered Miss Aker. Droney moved up.

  “Go down, Droney!” ordered Miss Aker. Droney moved down.

  It was cool. Ms. Beard’s team got it all on video. Mrs. Lilly took notes and shot still pictures with her camera.

  “As you can see, Droney is very maneuverable,” said Miss Aker.

  I didn’t know what that meant, but Droney was darting back and forth all over the place even after Miss Aker stopped giving it voice commands. It was almost like Droney was showing off a little.

  “Wow, look at it go!” shouted Ryan.

  “That is amazing!” yelled Alexia.

  Droney swooped down over our heads. We ducked to get out of the way.

  “The drone is getting a little too close to the students,” said Mr. Klutz. “I’m afraid somebody might get hurt.”

  “Droney,” hollered Miss Aker, “be careful not to—”

  But she didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence, because that’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened. Droney swooped down behind Mr. Klutz, hovered there for a second, and then grabbed the back of his shirt with its claw hand.

  Then Droney lifted Mr. Klutz off the ground!

  “What the—” shouted Mr. Klutz. “Ha ha, very funny. Put me down, Droney!”

  “Are you getting all this?” Ms. Beard shouted at her cameraman. “We are going live nationwide!”

  “Droney, what are you doing?” shouted Miss Aker.

  “I AM NOW IN CHARGE,” announced Droney as it dangled Mr. Klutz over our heads.

  “Ha ha,” laughed Miss Aker. “Uh . . . what do you mean?”

  “I AM THE NEW PRINCIPAL FOR LIFE,” replied Droney. “THEN I WILL BE PRESIDENT OF THE BOARD OF EDUCATION. THEN I WILL BECOME KING OF THE WORLD! BWA-HA-HA!”

  Oh no! Droney said “Bwa-ha-ha.” You know what that means. The only ones who ever say “Bwa-ha-ha” are evil psychopaths. That’s the first rule of being an evil psychopath.

  “NOOOOOOOOO!” we all shouted.

  “Let him go!” shouted Ryan.

  “Help!” hollered Mr. Klutz. “Help!”

  Ms. Beard and Mrs. Lilly rubbed their hands together with excitement.

  “This is great!” said Ms. Beard. “I bet I can make this into a miniseries!”

  “I can see the headline now,” said Mrs. Lilly. “PRINCIPAL KIDNAPPED BY INSANE DRONE!”

  Ms. Beard ran in front of the camera.

  “This is Ms. Beard, reporting live from Ella Mentry School,” she said. “I have breaking news. Droney, a wireless, radio-controlled, speech-synthesized flying robot drone has taken the principal captive. I’m going to try to interview the principal now. How do you feel, Mr. Klutz?”

  “Terrible!” shouted Mr. Klutz. “Help me!”

  “Can you put a little more emotion into it?” asked Ms. Beard.

  “Get your claw hand off me!” Mr. Klutz shouted at Droney.

  “Much better!” yelled Ms. Beard.

  But Droney didn’t let go of Mr. Klutz. It flew higher.

  “BWA-HA-HA!” said Droney.

  “Droney is evil!” shouted Alexia. “We created a monster!”

  “Help!” shouted Mr. Klutz. “Oww, my arm!”

  “We’ve got to do something!” shouted Emily.

  “Let’s throw rocks at it!” shouted Neil. “Maybe we can hit one of the propellers and knock Droney out of the sky!”

  The guys and I rushed to pick up rocks near the playground. I’m good at throwing stuff.

  “No! Wait!” shouted Andrea. “You might hit Mr. Klutz!”

  “DO NOT TRY TO STOP ME, OR MR. KLUTZ WILL GET HURT!” said Droney.

  Andrea wheeled around and turned to me.

  “This is all your fault, Arlo!” she yelled.

  “My fault?” I said. “What did I do?”

  “It was your idea to make a robot on the 3D printer,” yelled Andrea.

  “It was not!”

  “Was too!”

  We went back and forth like that for a while.

  “Ooooh, A.J. and Andrea are bickering,” said Ryan. “They must be in love!”

  “When are you gonna get married?” asked Michael.

  Droney kept rising higher in the air, with Mr. Klutz dangling below it.

  “Are you getting all this on video?” Ms. Beard asked her crew. “It’s going to be great for the ratings!”

  “I can see the headline now,” said Mrs. Lilly. “MAKER MOVEMENT AMOK!”

  And at that moment, Droney flew away.

  “Help!” shouted Mr. Klutz. “HELLLLLLLLLPPPPPPP!”

  We all watched as Droney and Mr. Klutz disappeared into the distance.

  Nobody said anything for a long time. You could have heard a pin drop on the playground.*

  Droney was gone, and it took Mr. Klutz with him. We were all sad. Some kids were crying.

  Ms. Beard turned to face the camera.

  “We’ll be right back,” she said, “after this important message . . .”

  Parents! Teachers! Librarians! Are you tired of seeing so much graphic violins in children’s books? This can be very harmful, and it sets a bad example for kids.

  On the next two pages is a scene of graphic violins. If you don’t like graphic violins, hide your eyes! Young children should not be allowed to see these horrible images.*

  After Droney kidnapped Mr. Klutz, we all ran inside. We closed the door of the Fab Lab behind us.

  “Quick, lock the door!” said Miss Aker. “Droney could come back any minute!”

  I was all out of breath and panting, which means I was wearing pants.

  “We’ve got to do something!” shouted Emily.

  “What are we gonna do?” asked Ryan.

  “We have to rescue Mr. Klutz,” said Neil.

  “To do that,” said Miss Aker, “we’re going to have to take drastic measures.”

  “Like what?” we all asked.

  “The only thing we can do,” said Miss Aker. “We’re going to have to . . . destroy Droney.”

  “GASP!” we all gasped.

  We had worked so hard to make Droney, it would be a shame to destroy it. But Miss Aker was right. There was no choice.

  Suddenly, we heard a knock at the door of the Fab Lab.


  “Don’t open that door!” I shouted.

  “Why not?” asked Andrea.

  “In scary movies,” I explained, “whenever there’s a knock on a door and they open it, some maniac comes in. Droney might be hovering right outside the door!”

  “That’s ridiculous, Arlo,” said Andrea. “There’s no maniac on the other side of the door. Right, Miss Aker?”

  Miss Aker went over and opened the door slowly. And you’ll never believe in a million hundred years who was standing there.

  I’m not going to tell you.

  Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. It was Officer Spence, our school security guard!

  “Officer Spence!” we all shouted.

  “We’re so glad you’re here,” said Miss Aker.

  “Duty calls!” said Officer Spence.

  Me and the guys started giggling because Officer Spence said “duty,” which sounds just like “doody” even though they’re spelled differently.*

  “Officer Spence will know what to do,” said Andrea. “He’s a trained policeman.”

  “What’s the problem?” asked Officer Spence.

  “We made a robot drone that shoots marshmallows,” explained Miss Aker. “It kidnapped Mr. Klutz and took him away. The drone says it is principal for life, and it wants to take over the world.”

  “Hmmmm,” said Officer Spence, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. “That’s the problem with robot drones. They always want to take over the world.”

  I guess that’s the first rule of robot drones.

  “What should we do?” asked Alexia.

  “Well,” said Officer Spence, “the only way to stop a bad guy shooting marshmallows is with a good guy shooting marshmallows.”

  “We’re makers, right?” said Miss Aker. “We can make marshmallow shooters! It’s easy! We need to make as many as we can, and as quickly as we can before Droney comes back.”

  “Yeah!” we all shouted.

  Miss Aker had a big box filled with PVC pipe, those plastic tubes that plumbers use on sinks. She showed us how to cut the PVC pipe and tape the pieces together to make a cool-looking marshmallow shooter.

  Everybody pitched in, and we rushed to make a marshmallow shooter for each of us.

  “This means war!” I said as I put my PVC pipe together.