He wrote costumes on the paper.
“And you’ve mastered your own unique brand of smack talk, too.”
The words smack talk were added underneath.
“But what’s next? Well, that’s easy. It’s a signature move. Now that everyone can see and hear ya, it’s time to make your opponents feel the utter defeat of being beaten by a move that’s all your own.”
Ollie, who had been wrestling his brother his whole life, was more than familiar with the basics when it came to wrestling moves. Throws and grapples, strikes and suplexes, pile drivers and chops were all standard fare for any match. But what he did not have, at least not yet, was a move specific to Big Chew.
“Just like your costume and your smack talk, you need to tailor your signature move to what sort of wrestler you are. Some wrestlers prefer high-flying kicks. Others like using parts of the ring. Still others like to build up their finishers with a bit of theatrics. I’m sure you’re all familiar with my own ridiculously awesome stunner: Surprise Quiz to the Face.”
Ollie had watched countless footage of the Professor executing his signature Surprise Quiz to the Face move on his hapless foes. The finisher involved a big meaty fist to the face instead of complicated long-division problems, followed immediately by a soaring corkscrew takedown. His students never passed the quiz, and he did not grade on a curve.
“With your signature move, you show the crowd exactly how you like to tango. Or in this case, wrestle. Think of your move as a powerful exclamation mark, a way to demonstrate what sets you apart from the run-of-the-mill jabbers and body slammers.”
Ollie hoped for inspiration and, soon, for a signature move of his own to use against Big Chew’s next opponent: Barbell Bill.
Barbell Bill had two traits: strong and stronger. And an insane list of special moves to back it up. The Pain and Gain. The Morning Jog Kick. But none more deadly than his patented finisher, the Kettlebell Kick.
Slamdown Town attempted to outlaw the move after Four-Leaf Clover caught the full impact and became the less popular Three-Leaf Clover. Fans had demanded the return of one the league’s most-feared moves. So the league caved, much to Ollie’s mom’s dismay.
Ollie now regretted signing that petition.
“I mean, maybe you just forget it, Ollie?” said Tamiko, referring to the drawing. “You’ve been forgetting a lot of things lately,” she added, probably recalling his broken promise to protect her father’s pants and their failing presentation grade.
Ollie had spent the previous evening drawing an awesome picture of Big Chew wrestling Gorgeous Gordon Gussett, Silvertongue, and Barbell Bill all at once. He had already defeated the first two, and if things went his way, he would soon defeat Barbell Bill, too. But as he searched through his bag, he could not find it. The drawing wasn’t there.
“I don’t get it. I put it in here this morning and . . .”
Now he remembered.
“And what?” asked Tamiko, her eyebrows raised. All around them kids rushed past. The school hallways were abuzz with students desperate to get home.
“Hollis!”
Hollis had snooped around his book bag that morning. He kept asking to see the drawing and saying that Big Chew was his favorite wrestler. He had begged, pleaded even, for Ollie to give him the drawing. Of course, Ollie refused. So Hollis must have grabbed it out of his bag when he wasn’t looking.
Tamiko furrowed her brow. “Well, can’t you just draw another one? We’ve got to walk Mrs. Ramirez’s dogs. You know how she gets if we’re late.”
Ollie noticed that Tamiko hadn’t been as excited to talk about Big Chew stuff lately, which was annoying because that’s all Ollie wanted to talk about. He’d asked her what was up at the arena on Saturday after filling her in on everything that had happened with Werewrestler.
But she had just brushed it off.
“You’re here now, so let’s just enjoy the matches. Okay?” she had said with a huff.
As they headed toward the school exit, Ollie spotted Hollis chatting with his eighth-grade friends. He leaned against his locker while they (probably) discussed boring, eighth-grade things like acne, or graduation, or being the worst.
Ollie marched directly up to his brother.
“What did you do with my drawing, Hollis?” he demanded.
Hollis felt the eyes of his friends draw toward him. Being confronted by his little brother put him directly in the spotlight. “What are you talking about?”
“My drawing of Big Chew. I know you stole it from me,” insisted Ollie.
Hollis looked uneasily at his friends, who had begun to laugh and hiss like a bunch of hyenas, then back to Ollie.
“I didn’t take your stupid drawing. Now buzz off before I get really annoyed.”
Ollie knew that staying in such close proximity to a bunch of eighth graders could prove disastrous. But he refused to leave without his drawing, which he knew Hollis had.
“Don’t lie, Hollis. You took it from me. I bet it’s in your locker right now.”
A vein throbbed in Hollis’s neck. But then it settled.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take a look?” asked Hollis as he spun the combination on his locker.
“All right. I will,” Ollie replied.
Ollie outstretched his hand and opened the locker. But all that was inside was a pair of dirty socks, never-opened textbooks, and a crushed soda can.
Huh. Maybe Hollis didn’t steal the drawing? But then where did it—
He suddenly felt himself being shoved from behind and pushed inside the locker. With a laugh, Hollis slammed the door in Ollie’s face. He could hear Hollis and his friends laughing from the other side. Inside, it was pitch-black and super tight.
“Hey! Let him out!” shouted Tamiko.
“Fat chance!” said Hollis. “That’s what he gets for accusing me of stealing his stuff.”
Ollie pushed with his arms and legs, but the door wouldn’t budge. For one, it was locked. And two, Hollis was leaning against it.
“What’s the matter wittle baby? Can’t open a siwwy wittle door?” mocked Hollis in a high-pitched baby voice from the other side.
Ollie was too weak. But Big Chew wasn’t.
Ollie reached into his back pocket, found the gum, and placed it in his mouth. In an instant, he transformed into Big Chew’s hulking mass, filling up the entirety of the locker.
With no trouble at all, he head-butted the door open and, in the same movement, spat the gum out into his hand and transformed back to Ollie, all while the door still concealed him.
The door went flying off the hinge, sending Hollis and the eighth graders tumbling backward onto the floor. Ollie stepped out of the locker with fists clenched.
“What the . . . ?!” said Hollis.
The eighth graders scrambled away, confused and maybe even a little scared of Ollie. Ollie walked up to Hollis and stood over him, huffing and puffing. He took a deep breath.
“Okay, you were right. I didn’t see my drawing.”
“How did you do that?” demanded Hollis from the floor.
Ollie shrugged. “Maybe I’ve been working out.”
Tamiko dragged him away before anything nasty could happen.
“Come on, Ollie. We have to walk Mrs. Ramirez’s dogs anyway.”
She was right. They had a job to do. Tamiko and Ollie ran off down the hallway, and as they did, they could hear Hollis and his friends talking about how they had watched a video about freak kids with super strength online, and that maybe Ollie should join the carnival.
Now safely outside, Tamiko and Ollie walked down the sidewalk toward Mrs. Ramirez’s.
“So, Professor Pain had a lot of good tips for solving Big Chew’s signature finishing move,” said Ollie after he’d calmed down. “I was hoping we could talk it over. Come up with some cool options.”
“Oh, good, more Big Chew talk.” From Tamiko’s tone, Ollie noted that she was not excited at all.
“Come on. You always think of
the best stuff. You totally saved my butt with the smack talk.”
“Yeah, I did. So what did he say?”
“Something about being true to yourself,” he said. “Making sure you put your mark on your opponent.”
“So, start there. What makes Big Chew, Big Chew?” asked Tamiko.
He chewed on that question. Which is why he didn’t notice the huge wad of gum in front of him until it was too late. Spletch!
Ollie pulled up his shoe to find a string of gum, which now tethered him to the sidewalk.
“Hey, Ollie. Are you a detective?” asked Tamiko.
“You know I’m not.”
“Well, you are now, gumshoe!” Tamiko giggled at her own joke.
Ollie tried to pry and pull his shoe free of the sidewalk, but it wouldn’t work. With a huff, he untied his shoe, firmly grabbed hold of it, and pulled with all his might.
This was one stubborn piece of bubble gum. Finally, the shoe sprang free from the sidewalk and sent Ollie flying backward onto the pavement.
“Ouch!” said Tamiko, running to his side. “Are you okay?”
Ollie lifted his elbow to reveal a pretty nasty scrape.
“That looks pretty bad. You should get that cleaned up.”
“Yeah,” said Ollie. “Lemme run right home and grab a bandage.”
“That sounds good. I’ll head over to Mrs. Ramirez’s.”
Before he stood up, Ollie inspected the shoe that he still clutched in his hand. He had freed the shoe from the sidewalk, but he hadn’t freed the gum from his shoe. The gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe like . . . gum stuck on the bottom of someone’s shoe.
He struggled to yank the gum off, but it just snapped back every time.
“Ollie?” asked Tamiko.
“Sorry,” he said as he stood up and looked at his elbow. “I’ll be right back!”
He sprinted toward home, one shoe on, one off.
“But hurry!” cried Tamiko after him. “This is a two-kid gig.”
He was glad he did not live too far away. Otherwise, run-hobbling home on one shoe would have been much weirder than it already was. He thankfully made it home without stepping in any other offenders—the sidewalk was a minefield of chewed gum.
He heard the loud, moody music that blasted out of Hollis’s room from all the way downstairs. A wave of fresh annoyance from earlier washed over him while he washed his cut and applied a bandage. He knew he should just run up to his bedroom, grab his other shoes, and leave. But he hated that Hollis kept winning.
He had the power to stand up to his brother in Big Chew, but he couldn’t do it as himself. And to make matters worse, Hollis loved Big Chew. Would he still love him if he knew that Big Chew was his “annoying little brother”? So, instead of walking away, Ollie approached his brother’s closed bedroom door.
“Hey, Mom told you to stop playing that horrible music so loud!” he shouted. Ollie had added the word horrible. But the volume of the music was too high for Hollis to hear. Either that, or he was ignoring him.
He banged on the door and noticed the sign had been changed.
NO BABIES NO OLLIES ALLOWED!!! EVER
“Hollis. Seriously. This isn’t even real music!”
Stupid lyrics about being misunderstood were Hollis’s only response. Now Ollie was losing his patience. This time he banged on the door using the shoe in his hand.
“Hey, bro. Come on. Turn that down!”
The shoe collided with a splat on the door and hung there. In his anger, Ollie had forgotten the gum was even stuck to the shoe. He was surprised how sticky the gum was. Probably from years of baking in the sun on the sidewalk. His shoe hung there, suspended on the door. Then Ollie got a good idea. A very good idea.
He yanked the shoe off the door and headed into his room. He placed his trash can in front of his bed, slipped his shoe back on his foot, and tied his laces tight.
He wound up and kicked the can as hard as he could with his gum-covered shoe. Just as he’d hoped, the trash can stuck to his shoe. And if cans could stick to gum-shoes, maybe faces could, too. Specifically, Barbell Bill’s face.
His plan was simple. Take an extra-sticky piece of bubble gum, tuck the chewy wad safely behind his ear, slap it on his shoe in the ring before the big finish, and introduce his opponent to a new kind of sticky situation.
He had found Big Chew’s signature finishing move.
And that’s when he heard it. Outside, several dogs barked while a high-pitched, panicked voice cried for help. When Ollie poked his head out the window, he saw that the high-pitched, panicked voice didn’t belong to just anyone.
It belonged to Tamiko.
He had completely forgotten about walking the dogs. He had told Tamiko he’d be right back, but had gotten distracted by Hollis and then by his finishing move. And of course, she had been left alone to deal with Mrs. Ramirez’s dogs. All ten of them.
He threw on a new pair of shoes—sans gum—and bolted down the stairs.
He needed to help Tamiko before it was too late.
CHAPTER 30
The situation turned out to be even worse than he feared.
He found Tamiko being pulled on her butt by a pack of poodles. She was being dragged through the dirt and struggling to hold on to the leashes.
“What happened here?” he asked.
“What happened here?” repeated Tamiko, incredulous, as she attempted to rein in the dogs. “What happened with you? You were supposed to come back right away.”
“Sorry. I got held up a bit.”
“Well, start holding these a bit.” She tossed a few of the leashes she was holding into his hands, then dusted herself off and climbed to her feet. Immediately, the dogs began to drag Ollie down the street.
“Whoa, hey now. Slow down. Come on, guys,” he said as the dogs yanked him across the lawn so that they could follow a bushy squirrel. He immediately felt guilty. He had only half the dogs, and they were unusually energetic today—no wonder Tamiko hadn’t been able to wrangle them all!
“I didn’t hear back from you!” she shouted as she stumbled up next to him. “So I thought I’d take all ten poodles myself and meet you at your house.”
Ollie struggled to keep his hold on the leashes. “But you know we’ve never been able to manage more than five at time!”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t there. And these poodles were getting antsy. So I didn’t have much of a choice.”
Ollie counted the dogs again as he was pulled through a prickly hedge. “Unless I’m wrong, I’m being dragged by four dogs right now. And you only have five,” he said.
“Yeah, genius. Congrats, you can count to nine,” mocked Tamiko.
He looked over the dogs. “So where’s number ten?!” he asked.
“She slipped free a few minutes ago. I’ve been looking for her.”
It took them nearly an hour to locate poodle number ten. She’d discovered a nearby neighbor having a cookout and had been enjoying the best feast of her life when Tamiko and Ollie finally found her. They promised to pay back the man for the cost of all the food she had eaten.
All the money they had earned walking dogs, wasted because of one poodle’s appetite for grilled meats.
But at least they had every poodle accounted for. With all the dogs rescued, Ollie and Tamiko began walking them home. Tamiko refused to say anything to him during the entire walk back to Mrs. Ramirez’s house.
“My poor poodles!” shrieked Mrs. Ramirez when Ollie and Tamiko, covered in dirt and dripping with sweat, told her what had happened.
She scooped up poodle number ten and held her close as she planted kisses all over her face. The poodle let out a gassy meat burp, which made Mrs. Ramirez even angrier, as she fed her dogs a strictly vegetarian diet. Then she turned her gaze on Tamiko and Ollie.
He realized in that moment how much Mrs. Ramirez looked like his mom when she caught him breaking a rule.
He gulped.
“Irresponsible, outlandish, and downright
unforgivable,” scolded Mrs. Ramirez.
He and Tamiko stood there silently. He was afraid that anything he said or did would be wrong. Mrs. Ramirez was really angry.
But since they said nothing, she grew even angrier.
“Well,” she snapped. “How do you explain all of this?”
“I’m so, so sorry, Mrs. Ramirez,” said Tamiko.
“Yeah, it’s all my fault—” Ollie started. But Mrs. Ramirez cut him off.
“Your fault?”
He shrank back under her unwavering glare.
“Yeah. You see, I stepped in some gum. Which was kinda funny actually.”
He knew as soon as he’d said it that he had made a huge mistake. Mrs. Ramirez seemed to expand with rage. Her eyes bulged. Her nose flared.
“Funny?!” she shrieked. “You think my poor little pooch running free and eating hamburger and hot dogs and who knows what else is funny?”
“N-no,” he stammered. “That’s n-not what I meant to say.”
Tamiko tried to calm her down. “See, what happened was, Ollie was supposed to go home and get new shoes. But he never came back. So I decided to—”
“—to put my darlings in mortal danger?”
Ollie thought Mrs. Ramirez was overreacting. She made it seem like they had walked the dogs past lava or strapped jetpacks to their backs to see which dog flew best.
“But no one got hurt,” he insisted.
Mrs. Ramirez shook her head.
“Maybe not this time. But the next?” She held the poodle caught in her grasp even closer. She squeezed so tightly, the poodle’s tongue popped out of her mouth.
“Well, I won’t make the same mistake twice. You’re both fired,” she declared flatly.
“Fired?” moaned Tamiko.
“But, Mrs. Ramirez, can’t we make it up to you?” he asked.
Without any reply, Mrs. Ramirez walked inside her home and slammed the door shut. He could hear her comforting the dogs through the door.
“Don’t worry, sweetums,” came her muffled voice from the other side. “Mommy won’t let those reckless children come near you anymore. Now you all need nice long baths. Come to Mommy.”
The scratching on the door proved that the dogs thoroughly rejected the idea of bath time. Ollie turned to make a joke to Tamiko. But her scowl made him decide that now was not the best time.
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