by Tim Harris
Also by Tim Harris
Mr. Bambuckle: Rule the School
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Books. Change. Lives.
First published in the United States in 2019 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Copyright © 2018 by Tim Harris
Cover and internal design © 2019 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover art by James Hart
Illustrations © 2018 by James Hart
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Published by Sourcebooks Young Readers, an imprint of Sourcebooks Kids.
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567–4410
(630) 961-3900
sourcebookskids.com
Originally published in 2018 as Mr Bambuckle’s Remarkables Fight Back in Australia by Random House Australia Children’s, an imprint of Penguin Random House Australia. This edition issued based on the paperback edition published in 2018 in Australia by Random House Australia Children’s, an imprint of Penguin Random House Australia.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file with the publisher.
Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
1. Miss Frost
2. Totes Be Careful
PhotoCrop Shock
3. A Pleasant Surprise
4. Mr. Sterncake
Bicycle Cake
5. Questions & Answers
Buddy Trouble
6. Things Are Going to Change
7. Secret Business
The Typo
8. Mr. Sternblast’s Announcement
Back Cover
For Dad
1
Miss Frost
Miss Frost’s first day at Blue Valley School was a remarkably horrible day. The fifteen students of room 12B entered the classroom after the bell to find their new teacher listing rules on the board. Although her handwriting was stylish, the message in her perfectly-shaped words was anything but pleasant. Dreadful warnings such as “no speaking,” “don’t be lazy,” and “there will be severe punishments” quickly filled the board. As the students took their seats, the briefest smile flickered across Miss Frost’s face before she dumped eleven pages of handwriting worksheets on each of their desks.
The students looked from the worksheets to Miss Frost with hesitation and mistrust. Her teaching methods, it appeared, were without comparison to the class’s previous teacher. In his short time in room 12B, Mr. Bambuckle had completely and utterly charmed the students with his surprising tricks and fantastical lessons.
Despite her icy disposition, Miss Frost—in her sleek, wintry ensemble—was beautiful to look at. Her long, silver hair was brushed neatly into a high bun that she secured with a diamond bobby pin. The diamond glinted and glimmered in the light. Her eyes were deep gray-blue, and the students soon discovered that a single stare from their new teacher would send frightful shivers down their spines. They feared her from the get-go.
“Hey, new teacher, what’s your name?” said Vex Vron, a dark-haired boy who dared to poke danger with a stick.
Miss Frost paced silently to the back of the room where Vex sat and tapped a fingernail on his desk. “You speak with such little respect… I pity your type.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, though very much in command.
Vex scowled. “Whatever.”
Miss Frost lingered briefly at Vex’s desk, her icy stare forcing him to look away. “Such a troubled child,” she sniffed. She walked back to the front of the room and picked up a marker, adding another rule to the board.
Any student who speaks out of turn from this point on will write two hundred lines at lunch. Discipline is the new order.
–Miss Frost
Overcome by fear, the students in room 12B began working on their handwriting worksheets in silence. The only sound was Evie Nightingale chewing her fingernails. Evie was a small girl, and today, she was feeling even smaller.
Miss Frost moved stealthily around the students as they wrote.
“What a ghastly K.”
“Have you never heard of sharpening your pencil?”
“Your Gs are atrocious.”
“Your pencil grip is as poor as your attitude.”
“Do that beastly W again seventy-five times.”
Miss Frost stopped at the desk of Victoria Goldenhorn, a girl whose handwriting was as immaculate as her long, blond hair. The teacher’s lips twitched as she inspected Victoria’s work. She couldn’t fault it, and she didn’t like the feeling of not being able to criticize. She tightened her lips and moved on to the next desk.
“Who sits here?” said Miss Frost, pointing to an empty chair.
Not one of the students was willing to risk an answer for fear of saying something wrong.
Miss Frost repeated the question, her whisper putting goosebumps on Evie Nightingale’s arms. “I expect an answer. Where is this student?”
The room was silent.
“If you students had a brain between you, you would know when to speak and when not to.”
Nobody spoke.
“You there.” She pointed to an orange-haired boy on the other side of the classroom. “Who is missing today?”
“Peter Strayer,” said Carrot Grigson, owner of the orange hair. In an attempt to soften the mood, he added, “I like your bobby pin.”
Miss Frost glared at Carrot. She raised a hand and gently touched the sparkling diamond with her fingertips. For a moment, she looked as though she was lost in thought, but she soon snapped out of it. “You will never, ever, under any circumstance, mention my bobby pin. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.”
Carrot gulped.
Miss Frost lowered her hand and stared fiercely at Carrot. “To ensure you get the message, see me at lunch for detention.”
Carrot gulped again. Louder this time.
“Let that be a warning to all of you,” said the teacher. “Anyone who mentions my bobby pin—or shows any disrespect, for that matter—can join me at lunch.”
Damon Dunst, who had a strong sense of humor and wanted nothing more than to impress Victoria Goldenhorn, longed to say, “Miss Frost, will you pay for my meal if I join you for a lunch date?” He thought better of it and kept quiet.
With the students in room 12B frightened into submission, Miss Frost went back to prowling in search of a handwriting error.
“Sit
up straighter, or you’ll become a hunchback.”
“Rewrite that Z until it is perfect.”
“Your capital letters are disgraceful.”
It was not until five minutes before morning recess that one of the students dared to put their hand up and speak. It was Victoria Goldenhorn.
“What could you possibly want, young lady?” said the teacher.
Victoria smiled and politely held up her work for inspection. “Do you think my handwriting deserves a sticker?”
Miss Frost moved closer to examine the work. “A sticker?”
“Yes, please, Miss Frost. Or a stamp. If it’s okay with you, of course.”
The teacher whisked the work out of Victoria’s hands and scanned it carefully, her lips twitching irritably. “I know students like you,” she said. “You think you are so much better than everybody else.”
Damon Dunst sensed an attack on his sweetheart. While fear had silenced him all morning, his obsession with Victoria was enough to pry open his mouth. “That’s not very nice!”
Miss Frost’s cold eyes shot arrows at Damon. They weren’t the kind of arrows Cupid might shoot. These were arrows meant to cause pain.
Damon’s face turned white.
“You rude child,” Miss Frost said quietly. “I’ll show you ‘not very nice.’”
She held Victoria’s work up for everyone to see, and then, ever so slowly, she tore it in two. Then she tore the halves in two. She continued tearing until the handwriting sheets resembled confetti. But there would be no celebration today. The relationship between teacher and students could not be worse.
Victoria’s usual positivity dissolved as a single tear streaked down her cheek. She had taken a great deal of care on her handwriting.
“Like I was saying,” said Miss Frost. “I know students like you, and you need to be brought down a notch or two.”
“She was only asking for a sticker,” said Damon quietly.
“Silence!” snapped the teacher. It was the first time she had raised her voice.
Evie Nightingale started shaking with fear.
“As for the stickers and stamps,” said Miss Frost, lowering her voice back to a frightful whisper, “where can I find the treacherous things?”
Victoria pointed feebly to the desk where Mr. Bambuckle had kept them.
Miss Frost left the shredded paper on Victoria’s desk and walked to the front of the room. “No morning recess until you’ve done the whole assignment again—more neatly this time.”
Victoria, who had never before been so cruelly treated, sobbed silently as the teacher rummaged through the drawers of Mr. Bambuckle’s desk.
“These stickers are sickening,” said Miss Frost. “Who would write such ridiculous things?”
The students tried not to remember the time when Mr. Bambuckle had asked them to design new stickers. They tried not to remember the trust he had put in them. They tried not to remember the fun they had shared. Thinking about such things would only make them more upset.
Miss Frost tossed the stickers and stamps into the garbage can and turned to the class. “These hideous things are never to be spoken of again. Discipline is the new order.”
With that, she lowered a match into the steel can and set the stickers on fire.
The new teacher was quickly making her mark in room 12B, and not even the heat from the fire could warm the mood of the students. All the while, Vex Vron watched from his seat at the back of the room, his mind churning with thoughts and ideas. He was determined to ensure the return of Mr. Bambuckle, and it was time to put his plan into action.
2
Totes Be Careful
If the students thought the first session with their new teacher was bad, they were in for a shock after morning recess when the principal, Mr. Sternblast, followed Miss Frost into the classroom.
Mr. Sternblast had been in some foul moods lately. The children believed he was taking pleasure in some final outbursts before his imminent departure. Rumor had it he was about to leave Blue Valley School for a higher-paying job in the city. It seemed that by firing Mr. Bambuckle, he had proved his leadership skills and earned himself a promotion.
“Listen up, class,” he snapped. “I need to discuss a few important matters with your teacher. You should all shut up and read.”
The students in room 12B, whose spark had already been squashed, reached silently for their books.
Mr. Sternblast nodded in approval toward Miss Frost. “I see you already have them under good control.”
Miss Frost simply straightened her skirt, demanding perfection even from the clothes she wore.
Mr. Sternblast opened a folder and began discussing school business with the new teacher. Only two students, Sammy Bamford and Carrot Grigson, dared to break the rules of silent reading.
Sammy, an athletic boy who loved to wear baseball caps, passed a piece of paper with a handwritten message to Carrot. Carrot slipped the note beneath his reading book and hastily penciled a reply.
Notes Passed Between
Miss Frost isn’t very nice!
Be careful. I don’t want to get caught passing notes.
She won’t catch us. She’s too distracted with Mr. Sternblast.
That’s even worse! What if they BOTH catch us?!
It will be fine. Don’t worry.
I certainly hope so…
Miss Frost is worse than Ms. Goss.
Yeah, the impossible has been made possible!
LOL.
You just wrote LOL but didn’t laugh out loud.
Because it was funny!
But you didn’t laugh out loud.
I’m not sure that you have to laugh out loud when you write LOL.
Technically, you do. Otherwise, you would write GOTI.
What’s GOTI?
Giggling on the inside.
LOL.
You did it again!
Did what again?
You wrote LOL without actually laughing out loud. You’re breaking the rules of the internet.
There are no rules of the internet.
Yes, there are! Pop taught me.
Like what?
You have to actually laugh out loud when you write LOL.
That’s not a rule of the internet. There’s no such thing. You’re being silly, Carrot.
Miss Frost is watching us—be careful!
Miss Frost darted angry glances at Sammy and Carrot while Mr. Sternblast spoke to her. The boys were now onto their fourth piece of paper, and she was itching to punish them.
Mr. Sternblast’s moustache wiggled as he tried to keep his voice down. “So that’s why it will be time for me to move on.”
Miss Frost nodded, her lips twitching every time she looked at Sammy and Carrot.
“Now, there are some things you should know about room 12B,” said Mr. Sternblast. “It is my job to tell you before I go…”
Did you hear that? Mr. Sternblast is leaving.
I heard! But I can’t believe the rumors are all true.
Miss Frost keeps looking at us.
Totes be careful.
She’s the Wicked Witch of the West.
More like the Wicked Witch of Blue Valley!
LOL.
Stop doing that! You’re supposed to actually laugh out loud. Don’t break the rules of the internet!
There are no rules of the internet! Anyway, even if there were, they would not recommend laughing out loud in the same room as the Wicked Witch of Blue Valley.
She just looked at us again.
She can look all she wants. As long as Mr. Sternblast is talking to her, she can’t do anything.
I don’t want to get caught. Please be careful, and don’t break any more rules of the internet.
For the last time, there’
s no such thing!
There is—I promise!
Prove it. What’s another rule of the internet?
ROFL.
?
You can’t type ROFL unless you’re actually rolling on the floor laughing.
I don’t believe it! Besides, you’re not doing it now.
This doesn’t count. But it’s true.
It’s impossible.
Why is it impossible?
You wouldn’t be able to type on a keyboard if you were rolling on the floor laughing.
?
Think about it. Most keyboards are attached to computers on desks. Typing as you are rolling on the floor laughing would mean putting the computer on the floor with you as you rolled around. You would probably head butt the screen or something.
Well, you shouldn’t say ROFL if you aren’t going to actually do it—even if you’re writing with a pencil and paper.
That’s even worse! Can you imagine writing with a pencil while you rolled on the floor laughing?! You’d probably end up with it stuck up your nose!
What about BL?
What’s that?
Belly laughing. You HAVE to be belly laughing to type or write it. Otherwise, you break the rules.
Bellies can’t even laugh!
Then there’s TRDMC.
Am I supposed to know what that means?
Tears running down my cheeks.
That’s just depressing. Whoever types that should be focused on getting a tissue.
They could be laughing.
Rolling on the floor laughing?
ROFL—that’s right!
Yay! I’m getting it. LOL.
Stop writing that without actually physically laughing out loud!!
I keep forgetting.
Miss Frost is watching us again. BRB.
Mr. Sternblast was wrapping things up with the new teacher. He was getting the impression that she was a woman very much after his own heart—someone who believed children should be whipped into shape through strict discipline.
Miss Frost listened closely to the principal. If she were to make her mark on Blue Valley School, she knew she had to make the right impression. Plus, like the principal, she had grand plans of her own. Now was the time to find out everything she could about the school.