We're Red, Weird, and Blue! What Can We Do?

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We're Red, Weird, and Blue! What Can We Do? Page 1

by Dan Gutman




  Dedication

  To Emma

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1.A Hundred Days of Misery

  2.Big Nose

  3.Mrs. Roopy Is Loopy!

  4.A Piece of Cake

  5.I Quit!

  6.The Presidents’ Day Challenge

  7.Round One

  8.Round Two

  9.All the Marbles

  10.The Big Surprise Ending

  11.DizzyLand

  Bonus: Weird Extras

  Professor Andrea’s Presidents’ Day Facts

  Fun Games and Weird Word Puzzles

  My Weird School Trivia Questions

  The World of Dan Gutman Checklist

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Back Ad

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  My name is A.J. and I hate February.

  February is the shortest month of the year. It’s also the worst month of the year. Why, you ask? Four reasons . . .

  1. It’s cold, rainy, and depressing.

  2. The hundredth day of the school year is in February. A hundred days!* That’s a hundred days of misery, if you ask me. And we have to celebrate it, like going to school for a hundred days is a good thing!

  3. February is hard to spell because it has an r in the middle of it for no reason. What’s up with that? It should be spelled Febuary, if you ask me.

  But do you want to know the worst thing about February?

  I’m not gonna tell you.

  Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.

  4. Presidents’ Day. Ugh.

  Do you know why I hate Presidents’ Day? It’s a long story. You’d better sit down. If you’re already sitting down, stand up.

  It’s all because of what happened last Presidents’ Day. Or really, what happened just before last Presidents’ Day, on Crazy Pet Day. My friend Neil brought in his pet ferret, Mr. Wiggles.

  That was the day Mr. Macky, our reading specialist, came into our classroom dressed up like Abraham Lincoln. He told us we had to do an oral report about one of the presidents for Presidents’ Day. All the students were going to vote for president of the school.

  Then our librarian, Mrs. Roopy, came into the classroom dressed like George Washington. She and Mr. Macky told us all about the presidents to help us on our reports, even the weird ones like Millard Fillmore. Or Fillard Millmore. Or Lardfill Moremill. Whatever his name was.

  You’re probably wondering what Mr. Wiggles the ferret has to do with Presidents’ Day. I’m getting to that.

  So anyway, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln started insulting each other. Lincoln said he was better than Washington because he’s on the five-dollar bill and Washington is only on the one-dollar bill. Washington said he was better than Lincoln because the Washington Monument is way taller than the Lincoln Memorial. The two of them started fighting.

  After that, we voted to see which president would become president of the school. And do you know who won?

  I’m not gonna tell you.

  Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. It wasn’t George Washington or Abraham Lincoln. The winner was . . . Neil’s pet ferret! We all voted for him! Yes, Mr. Wiggles was now President Wiggles! That was cool.

  After that, we had to give our oral reports. Neil was Thomas Jefferson. Ryan was James Garfield. Michael was Herbert Hoover. In the middle of everything, President Wiggles escaped from his cage and disappeared. Everybody was freaking out. It turned out that President Wiggles was hiding in Abraham Lincoln’s hat, which happened to be on Emily’s head. That was weird.

  I worked really hard on my Presidents’ Day oral report. I didn’t tell anybody who my president was until the last minute. I wanted it to be a surprise. So I started giving my report about Benjamin Franklin. It was really good. But everybody was looking at me weirdly. Then Little Miss Smarty Pants Andrea Young said, “Benjamin Franklin wasn’t a president, dumbhead!”

  WHAT?!

  It turned out that Andrea was right. Benjamin Franklin was never president of the United States. I just figured that if he was on the hundred-dollar bill, he had to be a president. Why else would they put him on the bill? I spent like a million hundred hours learning everything about Benjamin Franklin. And for what? Nothing.

  It was the worst day of my life. I was totally humiliated in front of the whole school. I wanted to run away to Antarctica and live with the penguins. I thought I was gonna die.

  So that’s why I hate February.

  If I was the king of the world, I would change the calendar so it would go straight from January to March. That’s right. No more February! But I’m not the king, so of course February came.

  We were minding our own business in Mr. Cooper’s class. And you’ll never believe who ran into the door at that moment.

  Nobody! Why would somebody run into a door? That would hurt. But you’ll never believe who ran into the doorway. It was our principal, Mr. Klutz.

  “I have big news!” he announced.

  “Mr. Klutz has a big nose,” I whispered to Michael, who never ties his shoes.

  “Next week, we’re going to have a contest for all the third graders,” said Mr. Klutz.

  “Oooooh!” everybody ooooohed, because contests are cool.

  “It’s going to be Ella Mentry School against Dirk School,” said Mr. Klutz.

  “Oooooh!” everybody ooooohed again.

  Dirk is another school in our town. We call it “Dork School.” It’s for really smart kids. Ella Mentry and Dirk are big rivals. We competed against them in the Brain Games last year, and we won. It was the greatest day of my life.

  “The contest is going to be on the Wednesday right after Presidents’ Day,” Mr. Klutz told us. “It’s going to be called the ‘Presidents’ Day Challenge.’ Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  “Yes!” shouted all the girls.

  “No!” shouted all the boys.

  The Presidents’ Day Challenge sounded boring to me. It was sure to be one of those educational snoozefest contests where we have to learn stuff and pretend to be having fun. Learning stuff is no fun.

  If we have to learn stuff, why can’t we learn about skateboarding or football? Why can’t we have a skateboarding contest or a football game against Dirk School? That would be cool.

  “Booooooooo!” the guys and me started booing.

  “Wait a minute,” said Mr. Klutz. “The wining school will get prizes.”

  “Oooooh!” everybody ooooohed, because winning prizes is cool. And it would be great to beat those Dirk dorks again.

  “There will be four prizes,” Mr. Klutz told us. “The first prize is bragging rights, of course.”

  Bragging rights? Who cares? Grown-ups always say you can win bragging rights. But then when we actually brag about something, the grown-ups tell us that bragging isn’t nice and we should stop doing it. I’m not falling for that again.

  “Booooooooo!”

  “The second prize is a year’s supply of Porky’s Pork Sausages,” said Mr. Klutz.

  I like Porky’s Pork Sausages. But every time there’s a contest, they give away Porky’s Pork Sausages. I bet Mr. Klutz has a secret deal with Peter Porky, the guy who owns the Porky’s Pork Sausage company.

  “Booooooooo!”

  “I think you’ll like this,” said Mr. Klutz. “The third prize is . . . a trip to DizzyLand.”

  “Boo—” Wait. WHAT? Did he just say a trip to DizzyLand?

  DizzyLand is the coolest place in the history of the world! They’ve got all kinds of rides there. Some of them not only make you dizzy, they actually make you throw up. And you kn
ow a ride is a good one if it can make you throw up.*

  “Yayyyyyyyyyy!”

  Everybody was excited that we could beat those Dirk dorks and win a trip to DizzyLand.

  “What’s the fourth prize?” asked Andrea, who has to know everything and win everything.

  “Oh, the fourth prize is a secret,” said Mr. Klutz.

  “Oooooooooh!”

  Secrets are cool. Prizes are cool. So secret prizes are supercool.

  I didn’t think much about the Presidents’ Day Challenge until dismissal at three o’clock. The gang and me were about to head home when we saw Andrea and Emily sitting on the front steps of the school. I figured they like school so much, they didn’t want to go home.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Ryan, who will eat anything, even stuff that isn’t food.

  “Emily and I are going to the media center after school today,” Andrea said.

  “That’s right,” said Emily, who always agrees with everything Andrea says.

  The media center? Ugh. That’s a horrible place that used to be called the library, but they changed the name because kids don’t want to go to the library. You want to know why? Because it has lots of books in it! Books are boring.*

  “Why are you going to the media center?” asked Alexia, who rides a skateboard all the time.

  “Mrs. Roopy said she’d help us learn about the presidents,” Andrea told us. “The kids who know the most will get to be in the Presidents’ Day Challenge.”

  “So we can win the trip to DizzyLand!” added Emily.

  Wait. Only a few kids get to go to DizzyLand? I thought all of us would get to go. It wasn’t fair!

  Well, I wasn’t going to let Andrea win the trip to DizzyLand. When she got up to go to the media center, so did I. And so did Ryan, Neil, Michael, and Alexia. It’s not like we had anything better to do after school anyway.

  When we got to the media center, our media specialist, Mrs. Roopy, was waiting for us. But she didn’t look like Mrs. Roopy.She’s always dressing up like other people. One time she was Little Bo Peep. That was weird. Mrs. Roopy is loopy.

  This time, she was dressed up like some old guy, with dark hair and a dark suit and tie.

  “Who are you today, Mrs. Roopy?” asked Andrea.

  “Roopy?” said Mrs. Roopy in a low voice. “Never heard of her. My name is Ronald Reagan. I was the fortieth president. Before I was the president, I was a movie star. In one movie, my costar was a chimpanzee. The movie was called Bedtime for Bonzo.”

  “So if they ask us which president acted in a movie with a chimp, we’ll remember Ronald Reagan,” said Andrea.

  “See?” said Mrs. Roopy. “You learned something about a president already.”

  Ronald Roopy Reagan showed us a bunch of books about the presidents. Then he said we could use the computers to look up more stuff. Andrea and Emily rushed to the computer stations.

  “I love looking things up online,” said Andrea.

  “Me too!” said Emily.

  “Ooooooh, did you know that four of our presidents were born in February?” asked Andrea. “Washington, Lincoln, Reagan, and William Henry Harrison.”

  Andrea thinks she is so smart because she’s a member of P.A.C. That stands for the Principal Advisory Committee—a group of nerds who get to boss around the principal.

  Looking up stuff about the presidents was boring. I decided to make an airplane out of the sheet of paper Mrs. Roopy—I mean, Ronald Reagan—gave us. I let it fly, and it almost hit Andrea in the back of her head.

  “Arlo!” Andrea yelled. She calls me by my real name because she knows I don’t like it. “If you were smart, instead of making paper airplanes, you would be looking to see who was the first president to fly in a plane.”

  “They’re never going to ask a dumb question like that,” I replied.

  “Maybe not,” Andrea said. “But you never know when it might come in handy. That’s why I’m going to get into Harvard someday. The more I read, the more I know. And the more I know, the smarter I am. And the smarter I am, the more likely I’ll go to Harvard and get a good job and be successful in life.”

  Ugh. Why can’t a truck full of Harvards fall on Andrea’s head?

  “You probably don’t know anything about the presidents, Arlo,” Andrea told me.

  “Oh, yeah?” I said. “It just so happens that I know lots of stuff about the presidents. I know stuff that nobody else knows.”

  “Like what?” scoffed Andrea.

  “The first flush toilet in the White House was installed in 1853 by Millard Fillmore,” I told her. “I guess before that, the presidents just went in a hole in the ground.”

  “How do you know that?” everybody asked.

  “I also know that George H. W. Bush was the only president to ever throw up on somebody,” I said.

  “How do you know that?” everybody asked.

  “I just happen to know a lot of stuff about toilets and puking, okay?” I told them. “It’s my jam.”

  We stayed at the library looking up stuff for a million hundred hours, until our parents came to pick us up. What a snoozefest.

  Andrea is sure to win the trip to DizzyLand. Her parents hire private tutors to teach her everything. If they had tutors that would teach you how to clip your toenails, Andrea’s parents would hire them so Andrea would get better at it.

  But I don’t think clipping your toenails will get you into Harvard.

  The next morning, we were in Mr. Cooper’s class.

  “Turn to page twenty-three in your math books,” he said. That’s when an announcement came over the loudspeaker.

  “Will the third grade please report to the all-porpoise room?”

  “Not again!” groaned Mr. Cooper. “Okay, everybody pringle up.”

  We all lined up like Pringles and walked a million hundred miles to the all-porpoise room, which should really have a different name because there are no dolphins in there.

  Our principal, Mr. Klutz, was waiting for us. He has no hair at all. I mean none. He must save a lot of money on haircuts and shampoo. He told us all to climb up on the stage.

  “I’m so excited!” Mr. Klutz said. “It’s time to choose which of you will represent Ella Mentry School in the Presidents’ Day Challenge. Are you kids pumped?”

  “Yes!” shouted all the girls.

  “No!” shouted all the boys.

  “I’m going to ask you questions about the presidents,” Mr. Klutz explained. “Blah blah blah blah. Whoever gets the most right will compete against Dirk School next week blah blah blah blah.”

  Annoying Andrea was sitting in front of me. I heard her whisper to Emily.

  “I’m in the gifted and talented program,” Andrea whispered. “This is going to be a piece of cake.”

  What does cake have to do with anything?

  Andrea got the first question, of course.

  “Which president said ‘it is easier to do a job right than to explain why you didn’t’?” asked Mr. Klutz.

  I had no idea.

  “The answer is Martin Van Buren,” Andrea said. “He was the eighth president of the United States.”

  “That’s right!” said Mr. Klutz. “Very good, Andrea. I can see you’ve been studying.”

  Andrea smiled the smile she smiles to let everybody know she knows something nobody else knows. What is her problem?

  “Okay, A.J., it’s your turn,” said Mr. Klutz. “This is a tough one. Who was president when the first flush toilet was installed in the White House?”

  I knew that!

  “Millard Fillmore!” I shouted.

  “That’s right!” said Mr. Klutz. “Very good, A.J. I see you’ve been studying too.”

  I stuck my tongue out at Andrea. Next it was Ryan’s turn.

  “Who was the third president of the United States?” asked Mr. Klutz.

  “John Adams?” guessed Ryan.

  “Incorrect,” said Mr. Klutz. “Sorry, Ryan. Adams was the second president. The thir
d president was Thomas Jefferson. Nice try, though.”

  Ryan walked off the stage and took a seat in the front row. Next, it was Michael’s turn.

  “Who was president when the Civil War started?” asked Mr. Klutz.

  “Andrew Jackson?” guessed Michael.

  “No, that’s not it,” said Mr. Klutz. “Sorry, Michael. The correct answer is Abraham Lincoln.”

  Michael walked off the stage. It was Neil’s turn.

  “Which president said ‘the only thing we have to fear is fear itself’?” asked Mr. Klutz.

  “John F. Kennedy?” guessed Neil.

  “Nice try, but no,” said Mr. Klutz. “Sorry, Neil. The correct answer is Franklin Delano Roosevelt.”

  Neil walked off the stage. It was Emily’s turn.

  “Emily, what does L.B.J. stand for?”

  “Lyndon . . . Bobby . . . Johnson?” guessed Emily.

  “Close,” said Mr. Klutz. “Sorry, Emily. The correct answer is Lyndon Baines Johnson.”*

  Emily walked off the stage. It was Alexia’s turn.

  “Seven of our first twelve presidents were born in what state?” asked Mr. Klutz.

  “Uh . . . Massachusetts?” guessed Alexia.

  “Nope,” said Mr. Klutz. “Sorry, Alexia. The correct answer is Virginia.”

  Alexia walked off the stage. One by one, everybody was getting eliminated. Finally, it was just me and Andrea on the stage.

  “Okay, now it’s down to two students,” said Mr. Klutz.

  I looked at Andrea. She stuck her tongue out at me. I stuck my tongue out at her. When you don’t like somebody, you should always stick your tongue out at them. Nobody knows why. But it’s the first rule of being a kid.

  “Andrea,” asked Mr. Klutz, “what was George Washington’s wife’s name?”

  “Martha!” Andrea replied right away.

  “That’s right!” said Mr. Klutz. “A.J., which president once threw up on a foreign dignitary?”

  “George H. W. Bush!” I shouted.

  “That’s right!” said Mr. Klutz. “And for a bonus point, who did he throw up on?”

 

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