by R. L. Stine
Rotten School
The Great Smelling Bee
R. L. Stine
Illustrations by Trip Park
To Sumner
–TP
Contents
Map
Morning Announcements
1. Do I Look Tense?
2. A Whole Other Chapter
3. What Stinks?
4. Parrot Plop
5. Busted!
6. My Raffle Surprise
7. Sherman Oaks Has a Pet
8. My Lucky Day
9. Sherman Squeals
10. Kidnapped!
11. Meow
12. Doomed!
13. The New Student
14. Jelly Beans
15. First-Day Jitters
16. He Speaks French
17. He Sings, Too
18. Barry’s First Exam
19. The Lucky Winner
20. The Honor Student
About the Author
Other Books by Rotten School Series
Copyright
About the Publisher
Map
MORNING ANNOUNCEMENTS
Good morning, everyone. This is Headmaster Upchuck. I’d like all of you Rotten Students to settle down now so I can read the Morning Announcements.
As you know, I read important news over the loudspeaker every morning. It’s my way of saying good morning to you all without having to leave my office and see your grinning faces.
Ow! That really hurt my ears!
Doesn’t anybody know how to stop that horrible squealing?
OWW!
I hope you can hear me. Here are today’s Morning Announcements….
Tryouts for the Armpit Band will be held in the second-floor boys’ locker room. If you play either one or both armpits, you are urged to try out. Don’t come just to be funny. You must be serious about playing the armpit.
Any student who ate the pigeon stew in Ms. Sally Monella’s fourth-period cooking class—please stop by the nurse’s office this morning to have your stomach pumped.
Attention art students. Third grader Billy Bob Heffernan will be showing off his new tattoos in the gym after school.
There is a mistake on the posters you see around campus. We are inviting all students to enter the SPELLING Bee. Not SMELLING Bee. The Smelling Bee—I mean, Spelling Bee—will be held next Friday. Warning: All the words will be three-letter words—so it will be hard! But we want all good smellers to join in. Did I say smellers? I meant spellers.
Finally, bathroom privileges for fourth graders will be suspended for the rest of the month.
Chapter 1
DO I LOOK TENSE?
I’m Bernie Bridges, and I usually walk around with a dazzling smile. Ask anyone. When I smile, it’s sunshine. Sunshine! Not to mention my adorable dimples.
But today I wasn’t smiling. Today my handsome forehead was wrinkled from heavy thoughts. Behind my glasses, my big brown eyes darted from side to side.
Tense? Was I tense?
Does a lizard change its spots?
Dude, I was tense. I had a problem.
A problem that could get me into major trouble. A problem that could get me booted out of school.
You probably don’t have this kind of problem. Because you go home every day.
But I live at the Rotten School. It’s a boarding school. That means I don’t go home. I live here in a dorm with a bunch of other guys.
Actually, we live in an old house called Rotten House. A whole bunch of fourth and fifth graders live here, and we love it.
My friends and I claimed the third floor, because it’s good for dropping things out the window on people.
Mrs. Heinie says it’s against school rules to drop things on people. She knows all the rules. She’s always sniffing around, snooping on us, telling us the rules we are breaking.
But that’s her job. She is our dorm mother. She is in charge of all us guys who live in Rotten House, and she is our fourth-grade core teacher.
Mrs. Heinie has her own apartment in the attic. We think she has spy cameras up there. Because she always knows when we’re dropping things out the window on people.
Mrs. Heinie is very nearsighted. Her glasses are as thick as ice cubes.
But she still knows everything!
That’s why I’m afraid she’s going to discover my secret. And then I’m DOOMED.
How did I get in this mess?
Well…that’s a whole other chapter.
Chapter 2
A WHOLE OTHER CHAPTER
The Whole Other Chapter began this morning.
I was smiling. Innocent. Happy. Did I have a care in the world?
I don’t think so.
My faithful friend Belzer carried my breakfast in on a tray. He brings me breakfast in bed every morning.
Good kid, Belzer.
It took me a long time to train him. But it was worth it.
Belzer is a chubby guy with red hair and freckles. This morning he was wearing his Rotten School blazer. We all have to wear the school uniform.
But under his blazer, Belzer was wearing a white T-shirt with bright blue letters across the front. The T-shirt said: I NEED A TUTOR.
Sad, huh?
He wears these loser T-shirts. But, hey—I always tell him he’s looking good. I like to keep my guys happy.
Belzer poured my orange juice for me. Then he went across the hall to his room.
I nibbled on a few things…eggs, bacon, blueberry muffins, hash brown potatoes, flapjacks, cornflakes with bananas, and apple cobbler.
All part of a healthy breakfast—right?
After I swallowed the last crumb of cobbler, I did the Official Rotten School Burp for a few minutes.
Then I climbed out of bed and put on my school uniform.
I practiced smiling in the mirror for a while. “Bernie, those dimples are killer!”
Happy. Innocent. Carefree.
And then the box arrived.
Belzer staggered into my room, carrying a HUGE wooden crate in both arms. “Big B, this just came for you,” he said. “I…I carried it up three flights of stairs.” He let out a groan. “Heavy,” he muttered. “Heavy.” His knees buckled, and he fell to the floor.
“Why don’t you set it down?” I asked.
“Oh. Good thinking.” Belzer dropped the crate. Then he sprawled facedown on the floor, gasping for breath.
My two best buddies, Feenman and Crench, walked into the room.
Feenman and Crench are tall and lean and goofy looking. But they are serious dudes. Serious about having fun twenty-four hours a day.
Feenman has a strange hobby. He likes to paint things red when no one is looking. And Crench’s hobby? Making funny noises with balloons.
Good guys.
Belzer, Feenman, and Crench are crammed into the tiny room across from me. They insisted I take the big room for myself. They knew I need my own space. Lots of quiet so I can plan and scheme.
“What’s up with the box?” Feenman asked.
I helped pull Belzer to his feet. “Probably a gift from one of my admirers,” I said. “Maybe the teachers all chipped in to buy me something special. You know. To thank me just for being me.”
Crench walked around the crate. “The box is as big as our room,” he said. “After you empty it, could I live in the box, Bernie? Could I?”
“Don’t be bitter,” I said. I studied the wooden crate. “Maybe April-May June sent me a big box of chocolates.”
April-May June is the coolest, hottest, blondest, snobbiest girl in the fourth grade. “It’s about time she started to notice me,” I said. I patted the side of the box. “Think she sent me flowers?”
“Bernie, the box is from your parents,” Fee
nman said. “Look at the writing on the side. It says ‘Mr. and Mrs. Benny Bridges.’”
“My parents sent this box?” I felt a little pang in my heart, a moment of sadness. I love living at the Rotten School, but sometimes I miss my parents.
They are travel writers, so they travel all the time. That’s why they send me to boarding school. We keep in touch by e-mail and cell phone. I get to tell them how great I’m doing and how everyone thinks I’m awesome.
But it isn’t the same as telling them in person.
I studied the box. “A present from my parents…hmmm.” What could it be?
Maybe it’s a car, I thought. They know I hate walking to class. No. Maybe it’s a PlayStation with a few hundred games. They know I need time off. I’ve been studying way too hard.
No. Suddenly, I knew.
“Dudes, why aren’t you cheering?” I cried. “Why aren’t you celebrating? Come on—hurry. Go crazy. Go crazy!”
They stared at me.
“Don’t you know this is our lucky day?” I said. “Don’t you know what’s in the box? It’s the widescreen TV I’ve been begging for!”
“Yes!” Belzer shouted, pumping his fists in the air. “Sweet!”
“I finally convinced my parents that TV is educational,” I said. “I said I need to watch Fear Factor every week to learn what not to do!”
“Sweet!” Belzer cried again. He slapped me a high five. “Our own widescreen TV!” We touched knuckles. Then we did the secret Rotten House Handshake.
“But, Bernie,” Feenman said. He pulled me to the back of the crate. “If it’s a TV, what’s up with the air holes in the box?”
“Huh? Air holes?”
I stared at the round holes cut into the crate. And then all four of us heard a scratching sound. Something scratching the inside of the crate.
“It’s ALIVE!” Crench screamed. “The TV is ALIVE!”
Chapter 3
WHAT STINKS?
We heard more scratching sounds, and then a loud squaaaawk. Something was definitely alive in there. We had to get that box open—fast!
Belzer found tools in the basement. They went to work, prying open the lid. Feenman and Crench used crowbars. Belzer used a claw hammer. I did the most important job: I cheered them on. “Let’s go, dudes! Good job! Good job!”
It meant a lot to them.
A few minutes later, the lid popped up, and the front of the box fell to the floor with a crash. My mouth dropped open as I stared in disbelief at two animals.
A dog and a parrot.
MY dog and MY parrot!
“My pets!” I cried. I dove forward and dropped to the floor of the crate to hug my fat, sloppy bulldog.
Lippy, my beautiful green parrot, squawked.
“Go bite a WALNUT!”
Isn’t he sweet? Who taught him to say that? Was it me?
“Go bite a WALNUT!”
Ha-ha. He cracks me up.
I hugged my dog. “Good to see you, fella!”
He snorted hello and drooled drippy stuff all over the front of my school blazer.
Belzer stuck his head into the crate. “But, Bernie, where’s the TV?”
“There’s no TV. It’s my pets from home!” I cried. “I guess they missed me so much, Mom and Dad mailed them to school.”
I felt so happy. I’d really missed my pets. And now here they were. Awesome!
I jumped up and smoothed Lippy’s feathers. “Are you a good boy, Lippy?” I whispered to the parrot. “Are you a pretty boy?”
“Eat birdseed and CHOKE!” Lippy squawked.
Isn’t he cute?
Feenman and Crench dropped down on their knees and started to pet my big bulldog. We heard a loud
The dog let out a moan. They suddenly stopped petting him.
Feenman made a horrified face. “Ooh, what STINKS?” he gasped.
“The dog!” Crench cried. “Bernie—your dog—he STINKS! Oh, it’s bad. It’s BAD!”
“Hold your breath,” I said. “It’ll go away in a minute or two.”
“I am holding my breath!” Belzer cried. “It doesn’t help!” The poor guy had tears running down his cheeks. He staggered away, choking, his fingers pressed to his nose.
“Oh, man, that’s BAD!” Feenman groaned.
Crench dove for the window, pulled it open, and stuck his head outside.
“Bernie, what’s your dog’s name?” Feenman asked.
“Gassy,” I said.
Feenman nodded. “Good name.”
Chapter 4
PARROT PLOP
Feenman and Crench both hung their heads out the window, breathing fresh air. The smell faded away in a couple of minutes. I told them it would.
I hoisted Gassy up and carried the big sweetie to my bed. He pushed his snout under my pillow and fell asleep with a sigh.
Lippy stood on his metal perch, clucking softly to himself. I lifted the perch from the box and set it up in the corner by the bed.
I felt so happy to have my pets with me. I didn’t stop to think about the trouble I was in.
“Hey, look—” Crench cried. He pointed to the floor of the crate. “Big B, there’s a note from your parents in the box.”
He reached down and pulled up a sheet of paper. “Hey, what’s this green gloppy stuff all over it?” Crench switched the paper to his left hand. His right hand was covered in green-and-yellow goop.
Feenman laughed. “It’s bird doo!”
“Huh?” Crench smelled his hand. “Whoa.” He looked from hand to hand. They were both covered in the thick, sticky glop.
Feenman tossed back his head and let out a long hee-haw. “Bird plop alert!” he shouted.
Crench moved fast. “Shake hands,” he said. He grabbed Feenman’s hand and shook it.
“Yuccck.” Feenman made a sick face. Now he had bird plop oozing over his hand.
Crench wiped both of his hands on Feenman’s jacket sleeve. “All clean,” he said, holding up his hands.
“You jerk!” Feenman cried. He wiped his hand across Crench’s cheek. Now Crench had bird doo smeared all over his face.
He raised the gloppy letter, pushed it into Feenman’s face, and wiped it around. Feenman angrily grabbed the letter, and it ripped into two pieces. He stuffed the gloppy pieces into Crench’s mouth.
What did I tell you? These are fun-loving dudes!
“Uh…guys,” I said. “Guys, what does the letter say?”
They turned to me. They were both covered in bird plop. Green-and-yellow goop on their faces, their hands, their school uniforms. Crench was wiping it off his lips.
“I’ll try to read it,” Feenman said. He pulled the gloppy letter from Crench’s mouth. He put the two pieces together. “Uh…it says your parents have to go away for a long time, and they couldn’t find anyone to take care of your pets. If you don’t take Gassy, he’ll have to go to the pound. And the parrot will have to go to a zoo.”
“No way!” I cried. “I’ll take care of them. They’re my sweeties!”
“But, Bernie, you can’t,” Crench said, spitting bird doo off his lips. “You’ll be in major trouble.”
I stared at him. “Huh? Me?”
He wiped green glop from his hair. “Yeah. You know the school rule: No Pets Allowed.”
Oh, wow. No Pets Allowed.
A chill ran down my back. Crench was right. No Pets Allowed.
“If Mrs. Heinie catches you…,” Crench said. He made a slicing motion across his neck. “You’re dead meat.”
Crench was right again. If Mrs. Heinie found out I was hiding my animals in my room—and told Headmaster Upchuck—it would be “Bye-bye, Bernie.”
I’m in major trouble, I thought. Unless I can find a way to hide Lippy and Gassy, I’ll be on the next bus home.
I sat down on my bed beside my snoring bulldog and started to think. I had to protect my pets. But how could I hide them? How?
Feenman and Crench dragged the crate from my room. Then they headed for the showers.
And exactly two seconds later, I heard the click of Mrs. Heinie’s shoes in the hall. She was heading for my room!
“Quiet, Lippy,” I whispered. “Don’t make a sound!”
“Go bite a WALNUT!” Lippy squawked.
Mrs. Heinie stepped in and squinted at me through her thick glasses. “Bernie, who were you talking to?” she asked.
Chapter 5
BUSTED!
“Uh…who was I talking to? Myself,” I said. “I’m giving myself a pep talk. You know. To be a better student.” I stood up and shook her hand. “You’ve inspired me, Mrs. Heinie. You’ve inspired me to work harder. To be an even greater person than I am.”
She gave me a weak smile. “That’s very nice, Bernie.”
“BEAK me!” Lippy squawked. “BEAK me!”
Mrs. Heinie squinted at me again. “What did you say?”
“Just clearing my throat,” I said.
She gazed past me to the bird stand, and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my! Is that a parrot? A parrot in the dorm?”
I turned. “You mean that new throw pillow? Isn’t that nice? My mom sent that pillow to me from home. It does look a little like a bird, doesn’t it!”
“Beak me! BEAK me!” Lippy cried.
Mrs. Heinie’s smile faded. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Bernie, you know the rules about pets, don’t you? Is that a dog lying on your bed? Oh, my! Oh, my!”
“Dog? Where? You mean that bag of laundry?”