by R. L. Stine
Rotten School
The Big Blueberry Barf-Off!
R.L. Stine
Illustrations by Trip Park
To Phil Silvers
–RLS
For Laura,
you gave me my
four biggest fans.
–TP
Contents
Map
Morning Announcements
1. Breakfast in Bed
2. Feenman and Crench
3. A Crowd Gathers
4. My Archenemy
5. My Million-Dollar Watch
6. Headmaster Upchuck
7. Chipmunk
8. My Friend Beast
9. Pie Fight
10. Allergic to Pie
11. 25 Chocolate Cakes
12. Jennifer Ecch
13. The Horrible Accident
14. 25 Blueberry Pies
15. Eat Pie!
16. The Big Barf-Off
17. Busted
18. Dance Lessons
About the Author
Other Books by Rotten School Series
Copyright
About the Publisher
Map
MORNING ANNOUNCEMENTS
Good morning, everyone. This is Headmaster Upchuck. I hope all of our Rotten students are ready to start the day.
I will be giving important announcements over the loudspeaker every morning. I hope we can get this fixed so it doesn’t squeal and whistle. Ow! That really hurt my ears!
Doesn’t anybody know how to stop that?
I guess not. OWW!
Anyway, here are today’s important Morning Announcements….
A special reminder from Coach Bunz to our Third-Grade Swim Team. Please remember that the No Peeing in the Pool rule is still being enforced.
Congratulations to the Volunteer Club of Nyce House. They have collected over fifty pounds of old newspaper. They are asking if anyone has any idea what to do with it.
Mr. Farrhowt has asked me to make this special announcement to students in his Class for Beginning Rappers…. “Yo. What up, dawgs? We be breaking it down. Bring the bling. Bust a move, yo.”
The stomach pump is missing again from Nurse Hanley’s office. Please return it and no questions will be asked.
I want to congratulate fifth grader Eric Spindlebag. Eric won the I CARE DEEPLY ABOUT MY SCHOOL essay contest. His winning essay was titled “Whatever.”
Members of the after-school Dental Hygiene Club announce that third grader Billy Sligg will be showing off his new retainer at dinner tonight.
A reminder that tonight is Island Night in the Dining Hall. Chef Baloney will be serving a special menu with a tropical theme. I’m sure you will all enjoy the chef’s Coconut-Crusted Fist of Buffalo…Plankton Surprise…Trout Lips in a Sponge Sauce…and Lizard Pudding. Enjoy!
Chapter 1
BREAKFAST IN BED
Tweet tweet tweet.
My bird alarm clock woke me up gently. I opened my big brown eyes and smiled. Catch those dimples in my cheeks. I always wake up with a smile.
Hey, I’m Bernie Bridges. Why shouldn’t I smile?
I had no idea today was the day it would all start. No idea what I’d find when I stepped outside.
No idea that today would lead to the Biggest Pie Battle in the history of the school—maybe the WORLD!
How could I know? I was still half-asleep.
I raised my head. I could hear the other guys in my dorm rushing out to the Dining Hall to get breakfast.
Hey, am I going to hurry? No way. I settled back on my feather pillow and smiled some more.
I knew my faithful friend Belzer would bring my breakfast on a tray. Belzer brings me breakfast in bed every morning.
Good kid, Belzer.
I sat up and stretched. “Bernie, you’ve got it made!” I told myself. I talk to myself a lot. I mean, who else understands pure genius?
I put on my glasses. Sunlight poured through my window. The curtains fluttered in a cool breeze. I gazed at my favorite poster on the wall, the big poster of ME.
You probably go home every day after school. Poor sucker. My parents travel all the time. So they sent me to the Rotten School, my home away from home.
It’s a boarding school, see. That means I get to live in a dorm with my friends. No parents.
How cool is that?
Actually, we live in an old house called Rotten House. A whole bunch of my fourth-and fifth-grade friends live on my floor. We claimed the third floor because it’s good for dropping water balloons out the window.
Mrs. Heinie doesn’t know about that. But she knows just about everything else that goes on here.
Mrs. Heinie is our dorm mother. She’s really nice, but she has a job to do. That means she’s always snooping around, sniffing in corners, keeping an eye on us.
Mrs. Heinie is also our fourth-grade core teacher. She has her own apartment in the attic.
“Yo, dude,” I called out to Belzer as he carried in my breakfast tray.
“Morning, Big B,” he said. He’s a chubby guy with red hair that falls down over his eyes, and he has freckles everywhere. He set my breakfast tray down and pulled off the cover.
“Good work!” I said, slapping him on the back.
“Hey, thanks, Bernie.” He smiled that lopsided smile of his. Anyone can see his braces haven’t helped at all.
Maybe I’ll adjust them for him later. I’m a wizard with a pair of pliers.
“You’re looking sharp today, Belzer,” I said.
Belzer was wearing his Rotten School blazer and tie. But under the tie, he wore a white T-shirt with bright red letters that said: ASK ME ABOUT MY ALLERGIES.
I once made the mistake of asking Belzer about his allergies. He said, “I don’t have any. I just like the shirt.”
I started to eat my breakfast.
“I strained the pulp from your orange juice,” Belzer said.
“Good work, dude.”
“And I got you extra blueberries for your pancakes.”
“Excellent, Belzer. The soft blueberries, right? Not the chewy ones.”
“Yeah. I tested each one,” Belzer said. “And your toast is just the way you like it.”
I picked up a slice of toast and checked it out. “Light on one side, dark on the other. Perfect, Belzer. Good work, fella!”
“Thank you, Big B.” He flashed his crooked smile.
I started to dig into the pancakes. I looked up. Two guys stood in the doorway. They were eyeing my breakfast hungrily.
“Well, well. Look who’s here!” I said.
Chapter 2
FEENMAN AND CRENCH
My two best buddies, Feenman and Crench, came walking in.
Feenman and Crench are tall and lean and goofy-looking. They grin a lot and punch each other a lot and can never stand still.
Feenman has long, stringy hair that hangs down like a mop. Crench’s hair is short and flat. That’s because his head is flat!
“Whussup, Big B?” Crench asked.
Feenman reached for a slice of toast. I had to slap his hand away.
Belzer, Feenman, and Crench are crammed into the tiny room across from me. They insisted that I have my own room. They know I need a lot of space for planning and scheming.
“Okay, guys. Give me the report,” I said. “How are the Bernie Bridges T-shirts selling?”
Crench shook his head. “They’re not selling, Bernie.”
“How many have you sold?” I asked. “Twenty? Thirty?”
“None,” Feenman replied. “N-u-n-n. None.”
“I think you spell none with a y,” Crench said.
“Never mind the spelling lesson,” I said. “Why aren’t kids buying the Bernie Bridges T-shi
rts?”
“Because they’re itchy,” Crench said. “Kids don’t want to pay five dollars for a T-shirt that makes them scratch all day.”
“But it’s got my picture on it!” I said.
Crench shook his head again. “Bernie, we told you not to make the T-shirts out of rope. No one wants to wear a rope T-shirt.”
“But rope is cheaper than cotton,” I said. “I have to make a profit, don’t I?”
Feenman shrugged. “We couldn’t even sell them to the third graders, Big B. I think you should give up.”
“Give up?” I cried. I jumped to my feet. “Give up? How dare you use those words with me! Do I ever give up for you?”
They lowered their heads. “No, Bernie,” they both answered.
Feenman made another grab for the toast. I jabbed him with my fork.
“I never give up,” I said. “I do everything for you guys. I do the impossible for you guys—don’t I?”
“Yes, you do, Big B,” Belzer said. He turned to Feenman and Crench. “Who convinced the cook that a Milky Way bar is a vegetable?”
“Bernie did,” they both answered.
“And who convinced Headmaster Upchuck to make Game Boys a required school supply?” Belzer asked.
“Bernie did.”
“Who convinced Mrs. Heinie to give extra credit for putting your name at the top of your test?” Belzer asked.
“Bernie did!” Feenman and Crench replied.
“Don’t forget wedgies,” I whispered to Belzer.
“Oh, right!” Belzer said. “Who got Coach Bunz to make Giving Wedgies a varsity sport?”
“Bernie did,” they answered. “Bernie did!”
“You’re the best, Big B!” Belzer cried.
We all cheered and slapped high fives and did the secret Rotten House handshake.
“So get out there and sell those rope T-shirts,” I said.
“Sell, sell, sell!” Feenman and Crench shouted, pumping their fists in the air. And they hurried out the door.
Chapter 3
A CROWD GATHERS
A few minutes later, I put on my school uniform and headed downstairs. I didn’t want to be late for my first class with Mrs. Heinie.
I stopped in the front hall. From the back of the house I could hear screams and a sharp, stinging sound—slap slap slap.
Just some guys having fun in the shower room. Slapping one another silly with wet towels.
The Rotten School is a very old school. And we have a lot of wonderful, old traditions here. Wet-towel smacking is one of our favorites.
I stepped back and listened….
“Ow!”
“Good one, Zuckerman!”
“Ow!”
“Good one, Klooper!”
Hey, I love the sound of snapping towels. Know why? Because I rent out the towels.
Guys don’t mind paying fifty cents a towel when they know they’re getting a good smack for their money.
I stepped out the front door and down the steps. Then I started to jog across the Great Lawn to class.
It was a sunny September day. The grass sparkled. The sky was cloudless and blue.
My backpack bounced on my back. It was empty.
Belzer was carrying all of my books for me.
Good kid, Belzer.
I stopped when I saw the crowd of kids on the grass. They were gathered around the statue of I. B. Rotten. What were they doing there?
I. B. Rotten was the guy who started this school a hundred years ago. Guess who he named it after?
Old I. B. was my kind of guy: a zillionaire. He made his money by owning grocery stores all over the U.S., called Rotten Food Shoppes.
The statue of I. B. Rotten stands on a pedestal in the center of the Great Lawn. He has a very long nose that looks like an animal snout. He has tiny, round eyes and short, furry hair.
He looks a lot like an anteater wearing a suit. But The Rotten School Student Guidebook says on page three that he was human.
Last spring, someone who I won’t name—Feenman—snuck out one night and painted the long nose on the statue bright red.
Feenman is really into painting things red. It’s kind of his hobby.
Anyway, they tried for months, but no one could get the paint off the statue. So now it looks like I. B. Rotten always has a very bad cold.
Why were all the kids huddling around the statue this morning? I saw Feenman and Crench in the crowd. I hurried over to them.
“What’s up? What’s all the excitement?”
Chapter 4
MY ARCHENEMY
Crench didn’t say a word. He just pointed.
I let out a groan when I saw the kid in the center of the crowd. That spoiled rich kid, Sherman Oaks. My archenemy.
He had a big, toothy grin on his face. He was holding up a glowing object, waving it around to the crowd.
Sherman lives in the dorm across from Rotten House, the dorm we all hate. I can’t even say the name of his dorm. When I say it, my teeth curl, my nose twitches, and my lips swell up like salamis.
It’s called…It’s called…(deep breath, Bernie)…NYCE House.
What kind of kid would want to live in a dorm called Nyce House?
More kids joined the crowd around Sherman. Kids were oohing and aahing.
Something glowed like gold on Sherman’s wrist. What was he showing off this time?
I started to push my way through the crowd. But I stopped when I saw April-May June standing next to Sherman. She was holding on to his arm, smiling at him.
April-May June. The hottest, coolest girl in the whole fourth grade. April-May has wavy blond hair, shiny blue eyes, and a smile almost as dazzling as mine. The girl is totally crazy nuts about me. Only she doesn’t know it yet.
I elbowed some gawking fifth graders aside and stepped up to Sherman. “What is that on your wrist?” I asked. “Some kind of skin rash? Have you tried calamine lotion?”
Sherman turned and flashed me his smug, sixty-five-tooth smile. “It’s my new digital watch, Bernie,” he said. He shoved it in front of my face. The sunlight beamed off the gold band, so bright it hurt my eyes.
“It has forty-two different functions,” Sherman said. “And it cost five hundred dollars. My parents sent it to me because they think they can buy my love with fancy electronics.”
My mouth dropped open. Forty-two functions?
April-May squeezed Sherman’s arm. “Show him what it can do, Shermy.”
Shermy??
MY girlfriend (only she didn’t know it yet) was calling Sherman Oaks Shermy?
Sherman swung the watch up so everyone could see it.
Give me a break. Why didn’t they stop all that oohing and ahhing?
“Well, it’s a camera, of course,” Sherman said. “And a video player. A phone. A palm pilot. An MP3 player. A printer. A tiny computer. Here’s the keyboard.”
He pushed a button, and a computer keyboard slid out. Then he pushed another button, and a piano keyboard appeared.
“It has a small George Foreman grill on it,” Sherman announced. He opened the lid and showed it to everyone.
I turned to Crench. “It’s got to weigh two hundred pounds,” I snickered. “He’ll sprain his wrist.”
That was Crench oohing and ahhing! Traitor!
Sherman showed how he downloads all his homework onto his watch and e-mails it to Mrs. Heinie. I tugged April-May aside. I had to pry her fingers off Sherman’s arm to pull her away.
“What do you want, Bernie?” she asked. She didn’t look at me. Her eyes were still on the watch.
Sherman was showing how he makes his own animated films on the watch.
“April-May, I knew he was boring you with that piece of junk,” I said. “How annoying. A watch with only forty-two functions. I mean, that’s so yesterday.”
April-May rolled her beautiful blue eyes. “What do you want, Bernie?”
“Well, they’re having dance lessons at the Student Center on Saturday and—”
“I thought maybe you’d like to come with me and—”
“No way, Bernie,” she said.
“Maybe we could take the dance lessons together. You and me. I know I could teach you some awesome new moves.”
“No way, Bernie,” she said.
“Is that a yes?” I asked.
“No way, Bernie,” she said.
“I’ll take that for a definite maybe,” I said.
April-May stuck her beautiful nose in the air. “I can’t go on Saturday,” she said. “Sherman is showing me the twelve hidden compartments in his watch.”
Twelve hidden compartments? Ooh.
Ahh.
April-May hurried back to Sherman’s side. Sherman still had his arm raised. He was snapping the gold wristband in everyone’s face, showing off the crisp snap of real gold.
April-May held on to his arm and smiled into his smug, sneering face.
The watch…the watch had hypnotized her into thinking Sherman was a good guy.
Forty-two functions. Twelve hidden compartments. Solid gold…
I started to shake. My whole body quivered and quaked. My eyes bulged. My tongue flopped out of my mouth.
Feenman and Crench hurried up beside me. “Bernie, what’s wrong?” Feenman asked.
“I’ve GOT to have that WATCH!” I cried. “It’s MINE! I can already feel it on my wrist!”
“But, how, Bernie?” Feenman asked. “How are you going to get it?”