Two very old men were sitting on a park bench playing chess next to Captain Pookes. Theodore loved chess, and forgetting Freddy’s warning to remain hidden, he walked over. Theodore stared over the old men’s stooped shoulders and quickly sized up the match.
He said, “Let me see, rook to F-five would be the most advantageous, I believe.”
Neither of the old men even bothered to look up. One of them grumbled, “There’s a chess master in every crowd.” Both men cackled. But Theodore did note that the old guy playing with the black pieces made that very move.
The old guy playing with the white pieces laughed and said, “That’ll cost you, Jasper. You made a big blunder there, you old coot.” He moved his white bishop forward.
“All right, Jasper,” said Theodore, studying the board, “Now, knight to D-three, and we have discovered check.”
“Heh-heh, Charlie,” said Jasper, “Looks like I’m gonna kick your skinny little hiney-butt this time.”
“This can’t be!” cried out Charlie as he stared at the board. Neither of them had even looked at Theodore. “There’s gotta be a way out.”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t,” said Theodore. “I would surrender with all due haste and humility.”
Charlie kept staring at the board, looking for an escape. Finally, realizing the situation was hopeless, he slowly laid down his king in a show of defeat.
“Yee-ha!” shouted Jasper. “Checkmate, you old coot, you. First time in thirty years. All right, pay up, fifty cents, right in my hot little hand.”
Charlie pulled out the coins and gave them to Jasper. “Okay, but next time, put him in check, all right?” Charlie looked up at Theodore and froze. “ALIEN!” he screamed.
Theodore looked around with alarm. “Alien? Where?”
“There!” Charlie said, pointing right at him. Jasper looked at Theodore and started yelling too. “Help! Police!”
“Help! Police!” cried Theodore. “Aliens, there are aliens!”
Charlie and Jasper got up and ran — rather, they hobbled briskly — with their canes down the sidewalk, away from Theodore.
People were hustling out of their stores and houses to see what the fuss was. The minister came tearing out of the church.
“What’s going on?” he yelled. “We’re trying to have a wedding rehearsal.”
Theodore came running up behind him. “Aliens. It’s aliens! Get the police.”
“Aliens?” said the minister skeptically. “Where?” He turned and saw Theodore.
“AAAAHHHH!” screamed the minister.
“Do you see them?” Theodore asked urgently.
The minister backed up, pointing at Theodore and trying to say something, but he couldn’t quite get it out. By now everyone in town was pouring into the streets. When they spotted Theodore they all started shouting, and picking up things to throw at him.
It finally dawned on the blue Fry. “They think I’m the alien. Quite ridiculous.” He faced the growing crowd. “Listen, all of you, I’m not an alien.”
They stared at back at him, unconvinced.
“Now I know that I look different than all of you, but I’m also quite intelligent, kind, and well-mannered. I’m sure that we’ll all get along wonderfully.”
There was silence and then a man shouted, “I say we squash the big blue thing!”
“YEAH! SQUASH HIM!” yelled the crowd in unison.
“Oh dear,” said Theodore. “I do believe they intend me harm.” He took a step back, and then another and another. “You know, you really should treat visitors to your town with a little more courtesy.” When the crowd started coming at him carrying big sticks, he used his enormous brain to come up with a stellar plan.
He turned and ran as fast as he could.
“Alien!” screamed the crowd as they ran after him.
“Barbarians!” yelled a terrified Theodore.
He increased his pace, turned a corner, and ducked down another street.
“Theodore!”
Theodore looked ahead of him.
It was Freddy. He was standing at the end of the street and waving at him. “This way, quick!”
Theodore shot ahead, joined Freddy, and they turned the corner and ran hard.
“How are we going to get away?”
“Just follow me; I’ll think of something.” Freddy ducked down another street and Theodore followed.
As he was running down the street, Freddy eyed a store with an awning out front. Behind the store was a railroad track down which a train was slowly moving. “All right — angle of trajectory, speed of us, speed of train, mass times energy, gravitational factors, friction pattern, wind velocity and direction,” Freddy said to himself. “Theodore, listen carefully, here’s the plan.” Freddy told him his idea. “Your timing has to be perfect.”
“As a genius I will accept nothing less of myself. But you’re sure I can do it?”
“I built your legs with a core of coiled aluminum. It’s the same material that lets Curly rise up in the air.”
A minute later the crowd turned the corner and saw Theodore. The same man yelled, “Squash him!”
“I bet he was a nasty little child, too,” said Theodore. What the crowd couldn’t see was that Freddy was curled up in a little ball against Theodore’s chest, holding tightly onto the blue Fry.
“YEEEEE-HAAAAAA!” yelled Theodore as he leaped high up into the air, hit the awning, bounced on it like a trampoline, shot to the sky, stretched as far as he could, and snagged the last car on the train with the tip of his left pinky. He pulled himself up onto the train while Freddy ducked down so the crowd couldn’t see him. Theodore adjusted his glasses and tidied his bowtie. He looked down at the crowd.
“Well,” he called out, “what did you expect from a genius? Hasta la vista, baby!”
The man in the crowd who had wanted to squash Theodore looked at the person next to him. “Hey, he’s pretty smart for a big blue thing.”
“Yeee-haaa?” said Freddy as the train rolled away from Pookesville.
Theodore looked embarrassed. “Despite my scholarly demeanor, I’ve always harbored a secret ambition to be a cowboy.”
Freddy lay down on top of the train and closed his eyes. “A blue cowboy.”
“What did you say, Freddy?”
“Oh, nothing.”
The train rolled on.
CHAPTER
ALL FALL DOWN
Freddy and Theodore hooked up with all the others and headed back to Freddy’s laboratory to hide after Freddy convinced them it would be safe. The Fries had told him about his sister discovering them. “I’ll take care of that,” he said.
On the way back the Fries shared their adventures with one another.
“Those people wouldn’t even listen to me,” said Theodore indignantly as he brushed dirt and grime off his bowtie. “It was most undignified having to escape on the top of a train, of all things.”
“Well, what about us?” wailed Meese. “We were almost trampled to death by people who throw little balls around and then cheer about it.”
“Yeah, it was the coolest thing that ever happened to me,” said Si excitedly. Meese bopped him on the head.
“Wow, nice punch there, Meese,” noted Si. “You’re a good hitter.”
Howie said, “I’ve never been to a baseball game like that. Pretty weird.”
“Well, I had a great time at the pie factory,” said Wally.
“He threw up all over the forest,” said Freddy. “It was pretty disgusting. All the animals gave us really mean looks for destroying their home.”
Wally replied in an offended tone, “Hey, I offered to clean it up.”
“Yeah, using a leaf,” shot back Ziggy.
“One of the squirrels bit me in the butt. I think it left a mark,” complained Wally.
When they got to Freddy’s lab, the Fries looked around in amazement at all the equipment and gadgets.
“Cool, little dudee-rudee,” commented Wally. “So c
an you, like, invent food with all this stuff?”
Theodore pointed to a wall of odd-looking things. “What are those?”
“Things my dad invented. Anti-gravity flight belts, pill slingers, neuromuscular disruptors, you know, just your basic stuff.” Freddy looked at all the Fries. “Okay, guys,” he said, “After what happened today, you’ve really got to stay here in my lab. Okay?”
The Fries all nodded.
“Let’s go, Howie,” said Freddy.
When they reached the farmhouse, they stopped dead. There was a police car in the driveway. And there was Adam Spanker’s father, Police Chief Stewie Spanker, confronting Alfred Funkhouser.
Behind them, on their motor scooters, were Adam Spanker and his gang, looking very, very happy.
“Wow, cool,” said Howie. “Is your dad going to be, like, arrested? I’ve never seen anybody arrested before except on TV.”
“No, he’s not going to be arrested,” answered Freddy hotly. He stared nervously at the police chief and the Spanker gang. “At least I hope he’s not.” He paused and added, “I wonder what Dad’s blown up now?”
Freddy and Howie ran up to Alfred, who was holding something that looked like twenty pairs of scissors connected together and attached to a large battery thingamajig in his right hand. He held a large pizza pie in his left hand.
“Dad, what’s going on?” asked Freddy.
“I’m not sure what’s going on, actually. Chief Spanker wanted to talk to me.”
Chief Stewie Spanker looked just like his son except bigger and meaner. “Look, Funkhouser,” said Chief Spanker, getting right in Alfred’s face, “we know you like to do crazy experiments and come up with stupid gadgets.”
“Stupid gadgets?” exclaimed Alfred. “I don’t invent stupid gadgets.”
“He invents useful stuff,” said Freddy defensively. “Like . . . well, like the . . .”
“Like the tomato-seed shooters,” prompted his father.
“Right,” said Freddy, “and the salad that comes up out of the ground all ready to be tossed in a bowl. Dad gave that formula away to everyone in Pookesville for free.”
“Yeah, well, that salad had a certain odor to it,” growled Chief Spanker.
“That’s what they invented air fresheners for,” advised Alfred.
Freddy added excitedly, “And then there’s the non-nuclear mosquito defeater. And the anti-gravity flight belt.”
“Still working out some control problems on that one,” pointed out his father.
“And then there’s the neuromuscular disruptor to capture criminals.”
“The Jelly Legger, I like to call it,” said Alfred proudly. “You should get some for the police department, Chief.”
“And then there’s the burp pill for upset stomachs,” added Freddy.
Chief Spanker looked very upset. “I actually tried that one. Everything came out the other end . . . for days!”
“That’s why I renamed it the pooper pill,” said Alfred.
Chief Spanker stared pointedly at the scissor thing. “So what’s that, a new gadget to cut hair?”
“Oh, this?” said Alfred. “It’s a battery-powered pizza cutter that cuts an entire pizza into perfect slices in two seconds. Here, I’ll show you.”
He handed the pizza to Spanker, turned on the battery, and engaged the scissors. Two seconds later the pizza remained uncut, but the police chief had no hat left — and no hair, either.
“Oh dear,” said Alfred, staring at the now nearly bald policeman. “I thought I had worked that problem out. Well, actually, it does have application for hair cutting. If you come into the Burger Castle I’ll give you some of our fat-free fries. They’re good at growing hair back.”
Spanker snatched the scissors contraption out of Alfred’s hands and threw it down. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that dumpy restaurant of yours. And assaulting a police officer is a crime.”
“But I didn’t mean to —”
“Throw him in jail, Dad,” shouted Adam. “And his nutcase son too.”
“I wish you’d ask your son not to call my son names,” said Alfred.
“Hey, hey!” yelled Chief Spanker, sticking a big finger in Alfred’s chest. “You watch your mouth. Adam is a very sensitive boy.”
“But I didn’t —”
“Give it a rest, Funkhouser, you’re in enough trouble.” The policeman consulted his notebook. “Now let me see, two months ago you attempted to launch a trash can into orbit using a rocket engine attached to the roof of your Dodge station wagon. Said trash can did not make it into orbit but rather came down and landed in the community swimming pool three miles away. Call me silly, but that seems a little crazy.”
“Well, first of all, it wasn’t a trash can,” explained Alfred Funkhouser.
“That’s right,” said Freddy. “It was a solar-powered meteorological data-gathering platform designed to circle the ionosphere and transmit valuable information back to the home station.”
“Well, when it landed in the swimming pool it looked just like a trash can,” responded Spanker impatiently. “Now, let’s get to today’s events.” He looked at his notebook again. “We have three separate incidents of large, colorful creatures causing considerable trouble in the area. First, a red thing with —” Spanker checked his notes again and shook his head, “— two heads and a green thing that rose way up in the air disrupted a local baseball game, causing considerable mayhem and a number of injuries.”
The police chief continued. “Next, the Pookesville Pie Factory was attacked, and four hundred pies eaten by a fat purple thing that had a little yellow sidekick whose face, arms, and legs fell off. Lastly, a large blue thing that knew how to play chess really well created hysteria in downtown Pookesville and then escaped by jumping onto a moving train.” The policeman closed his notebook and tapped it against Alfred’s chest. “Now are you going to try and tell me that you had nothing to do with all that, Funkhouser?”
With each description, Freddy’s eyes grew wider and wider and his stomach started doing bigger and bigger flip-flops. This was all going so wrong.
Alfred was staring at his son, his hand rubbing his very sharp chin, a sure sign his brain was on high-speed computing mode. “A fat purple thing that could eat four hundred pies? A two-headed red thing and a yellow creature who loses body parts? A blue thing that could play chess and jump on moving trains, and a green thing that could rise way up in the air?”
“Yeah!” cried out Chief Spanker as he slapped his notebook against his beefy hand. “Now what do you say to that?”
“Well, I personally don’t know anything about it. It would have taken quite a scientist to come up with something like that. In fact, I wish it had been me.”
“Oh you do, do you? Well, we’re going to give you some time to think about that. Come on, you’re under arrest.”
Spanker took out his handcuffs and put them on Alfred.
A cheer went up through the Spanker gang. “You tell him, Dad,” yelled Adam.
“Wait, you can’t arrest my dad,” cried Freddy.
“Oh, I can’t, can’t I? Give me one good reason why not. He’s the only one in town who makes crazy things like that. You Funkhousers have been trouble since the first day you came to Pookesville.”
“You’ll be an old man by the time you get out of jail, Funkhouser,” taunted Adam.
A terrified Freddy stared at everyone. Adam shot him raspberries and raised his paintball gun menacingly. Chief Spanker eyed Freddy with disgust. But the worst thing of all was Freddy’s father looking at him.
“But . . . but,” stammered Freddy.
“What’s the matter, Funky,” said Adam, “C-c-ca-cat got your tongue?”
“It’s okay, Freddy,” said his father calmly. “I’ll go downtown and get this all straightened out.”
“Yeah, right,” said Chief Spanker, belly laughing. “I’d get used to not having your father around for a while,” he said as he led Alfred away.
; “But we have to work on our float for the parade,” protested Freddy.
Adam howled. “Wait’ll you see the Patty Cakes float. You haven’t got a chance, Funkhouser.”
Chief Spanker put Alfred in the patrol car.
Freddy was trying hard not to cry in front of Adam and his gang, but he couldn’t help himself. He ran to the police car and put his face against the window where his father was sitting.
“Dad —” he said tearfully.
“It’s okay,” his father said quietly. “I’ll be home in time for supper. Go find your sister and tell her what happened.”
The car drove off and Adam and his gang immediately circled around Freddy and Howie.
“Something tells me you two know a lot more than you’re saying, Funky,” said Adam accusingly.
Freddy and Howie drew closer to each other. “You . . . you’re tres . . . trespa —” Freddy stammered.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Adam looked through the open doors of the large barn that sat across from the farmhouse. “Hey, what do we have here?” He and his gang raced into the barn.
“Stop!” cried Freddy. He and Howie chased after them.
Inside the barn was the Funkhouser’s float for the Founders’ Day parade. Alfred had taken an old tractor chassis and put a flatbed trailer over it. The Funkhousers had built a wooden frame on top of the flatbed trailer in the form of a giant Vroom shake. Nancy also had added a platform at the top of the shake made to look like a balcony, where she could deliver her Shakespeare monologues to her adoring fans; it was accessed by a trapdoor in the platform.
Adam and his gang circled it. “This is the biggest piece of junk I’ve ever seen,” said Adam, kicking one of the old tires and rattling the wooden frame.
“Hey, look at this,” said one of his gang. He pointed to a banner that read: “The Burger Castle: the King of Groovy Food.”
“What a pack of baloney,” said Adam. He reached up and tore down the banner.
“Stop!” cried out Freddy.
Freddy and the French Fries #1: Page 5