by Luke Sharpe
“The first problem is that the helmet is uncomfortable. It makes it very hard to fall asleep,” Afia explains. “So I need help making the helmet smaller and more comfortable.”
I’m sure I could help her with that.
“The second problem is that everyone you dream about receives a copy of the video e-mailed right to them. As you can imagine, that can be very embarrassing. For example, if you dream about kissing your crush, that person would get a copy of the dream. If you dream about coming to school in just your underwear, your teacher would know about it when you show up the next day. This needs to be fixed.”
I shudder to think about this happening. It’s kind of like what happened with the CAT-DOG TRANSLATOR. Our inventions should never reveal our secrets. Still, there’s something to Afia’s Dream Machine.
“Thank you very much for this opportunity,” says Afia. Then the screen goes dark.
“Wow!” says Chris. “I would hate for people to know my dreams! Why just the other night, I—well, never mind!”
The audience laughs. I think about some of the CRAZY DREAMS I’ve had and cringe at the thought that anyone else would actually be able to see them.
“Next up is Alexander,” Chris says. “He’s invented something that I believe we would have all found useful at one time or another. Alexander!”
A short boy with stubby legs strolls out onto the stage carrying a roll of toilet paper on a stick.
There is something very strange-looking about this boy. And also something kind of familiar. I thought the same thing when he presented his idea yesterday, but I just can’t put my finger on who he reminds me of.
“Hello,” he says. “I’m eleven years old and this is my invention.”
His voice is surprisingly deep for an eleven-year-old kid. And why does it look like he needs to shave?
“My invention is a roll of toilet paper that never runs out,” Alexander explains. “Have you ever been caught in the situation where you run out of toilet paper and there is no extra roll around? Of course you have. Well, that will never happen again if Sure Things, Inc. helps me bring the NEVER-ENDING ROLL to the marketplace.”
Alexander spins the toilet paper roll. The paper just keeps streaming off the roll, piling up on the stage. Amazingly, the roll doesn’t seem to be getting any smaller!
Just as I’m beginning to think that this could be a contender for the big prize, Alexander starts to grow. Yes, I said GROW. He gets taller, and his face widens, and wrinkles form. Panic fills his eyes.
And that’s when I finally recognize him.
“That’s not really a kid!” I shout, standing up and pointing. “That’s ALISTAIR SWIPED!”
Trouble in a Bubble
ALISTAIR SWIPED BACKS away slowly.
Swiped is an inventor who is best known for stealing other people’s ideas—especially our ideas. He tried impersonating my mom to steal them, and he stole the first prototype for our Cat-Dog Translator. And he’s done lots of other crooked stuff. He wouldn’t know an original idea if it landed on his head.
“My Never-Ending Roll is still a good idea!” Swiped shouts. “Even though my MAKE-YOURSELF-YOUNG-AGAIN POTION obviously needs some work, promotion from you could help my company, Swiped Stuff, Inc., get back in business!”
As he creeps away, Swiped trips over the pile of toilet paper on the floor. He falls on the ground and gets caught up in the paper. When he stands up again, he looks like a mummy. There’s even toilet paper covering his eyes and mouth. (I’m no fan of Swiped, but for his sake I’m thankful the toilet paper is unused.) Two security guards grab him by the arms and escort him offstage. Soon the only thing left of Swiped is a pile of toilet paper.
“Well, that was unexpected!” says Chris, not missing a beat. “I’d have to say that contestant is disqualified!”
The audience applauds.
I can’t believe Swiped would try to fool Sure Things, Inc. into putting out his product. Actually, I guess I can believe it. I just can’t believe that he thought he’d get away with it by pretending to be a kid.
“Let’s go back to the giant video monitor for our next contestant,” Chris says, moving things right along.
The huge screen drops down again. On the screen, a boy sits in a wheelchair in front of a large machine.
“Joining us from Japan is Hiroki. And I think if there’s one word to describe his invention, it’s FUN!”
“Hello. My name is Hiroki. I am happy to share my invention with you,” he begins.
This invention impressed me when I saw it yesterday, and I’m sure I could help Hiroki work out the bugs. The machine he sits in front of has a monitor and keyboard, a joystick, a scanner, and a printer all built right in.
“I call my invention the HOMEWORK FUNNERIZER,” Hiroki continues. “Simply put, it converts any homework assignment into a video game. Let me demonstrate.”
Hiroki picks up several sheets of paper.
“This is my math homework. I must solve a series of equations involving fractions.”
He puts the math assignment into the scanner. It flashes for a few seconds, then he takes the paper out.
“And this is my language homework. I am studying Mandarin Chinese.”
Again, he scans the homework sheet.
“And finally, this is my history homework. I am learning about the great emperors in Japanese history.”
Hiroki scans his history homework.
“Now I press a button, and the Homework Funnerizer creates a video game. I must win the video game by doing my homework assignments. If I do, the Funnerizer will convert the results back into homework answers which I can hand in to my teacher. Watch!”
Hiroki positions his wheelchair in front of the screen. He presses the start button. A fantasy world appears on the monitor filled with bubbling lava swamps, sprawling evergreen forests, and stone castles rising high into the sky.
Hiroki’s on-screen avatar, a young warrior, clutches his sword tightly. Suddenly, a horde of monstrous creatures comes pouring out of the forest, rushing right at Hiroki! But there is something strange about the creatures.
One is half Cyclops, half troll. Another is two-thirds gnome, one-third giant. To defeat the creatures Hiroki has to match the fractional parts to form whole monsters.
Once he completes this task, Hiroki stands at the gates to the castle. An ancient yellowed scroll appears filled with Japanese writing. Hiroki has to translate the scroll into Mandarin Chinese in order to open the gates.
When he finishes translating, the gates swing open. Inside the castle, Hiroki comes to a series of doors. On each door the name of a Japanese emperor is written. Hiroki has to go through the doors in the correct order—based on the order in which the emperors ruled—in order to reach and defeat the goblin king.
Hiroki finishes all the tasks. And just like that, the Homework Funnerizer converts the game back to completed homework assignments! WOW! As I’m imagining how much easier my English assignments would be as a video game, the printer starts printing out the assignments but ends up shredding the paper into confetti instead.
“This is the part I need help with,” says Hiroki. “What good is a Homework Funnerizer if it is also a HOMEWORK SHREDDERIZER? If I win, I hope that Sure Things, Inc. can help me fix this. Thank you very much.”
“Okay, gang,” says Chris. “The time has come to meet our final finalist. He’s thirteen and says he’s been inventing things ever since he was six years old. Let’s hear it for Greg!”
Out walks a boy wearing glasses. He has dark close-cropped hair. He holds a small box in his hand. There is a button on the top of the box.
“Hi, I’m Greg, and my invention is the NO-TROUBLE BUBBLE,” he begins. “It protects you from just about anything—spitballs, darts, balls of any kind. You are always safe inside the No-Trouble Bubble.”
This invention would be great, if it works. It reminds me of the PERSONAL FORCE FIELD BELT that Manny and I have been working on.
“I�
�d like to demonstrate the No-Trouble Bubble for the judges, but I need a volunteer to go inside the bubble.”
Greg looks right at me.
“I can’t think of anyone better to test the No-Trouble Bubble than the great inventor himself, Billy Sure!”
The loudest cheer of the day goes up from the studio audience.
“How about it, Billy?” asks Chris.
I shake my head and try to smile politely. As I’ve said before, I am not a big fan of being in the spotlight.
The crowd roars even louder.
“Come on, Billy, how about it?” urges Chris.
“Don’t you all want to see Billy in the bubble?” asks Greg, talking directly to the audience.
Cries of: “Yeah!” “Come on, Billy!” “Do it for us, Billy!” come from the crowd.
I shoot Manny a glance. He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head as if to say, “Give the people what they want.”
Great. Thanks, Manny. Emily is no help either. She waves her hand toward the stage, urging me to get up. Why couldn’t Greg have chosen Emily instead?
I guess I don’t have a choice. I stand up and walk to the stage as the crowd cheers wildly.
“It’s such an honor to meet you, Billy,” says Greg, shaking my hand.
“Nice to meet you too, Greg,” I say. “So how does your invention work?”
Greg gives me the box. “Just press the button.”
As soon as I press the button, a clear bubble pops out of the box. It looks like a giant soap bubble, and after a few seconds it grows big enough to surround me.
Cool! I’m standing inside a bubble, and I can see everything clearly.
“I’d like a few other volunteers to test the bubble’s strength,” says Greg. “I have a straw and spitballs, a bow with rubber-tipped arrows, and in honor of the great Carl Bourette, an All Ball in the form of a baseball.”
Emily, Abby, and Carl get up from their seats at the judges table and join us on stage.
“I’d be happy to fire an arrow at my brother,” says Emily. She took archery at summer camp one year.
“And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather shoot a spitball at!” adds Abby, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
“I guess you want me to throw that baseball, huh?” says Carl. “As long as you’re positive that Billy won’t get hurt.”
“He won’t. Not with the No-Trouble Bubble!” says Greg.
It’s like he’s already writing the commercial. This kid would definitely get along with Manny—who, I note, is the only judge not throwing anything at me.
Emily is first. She picks up the bow and fires an arrow right at me. I flinch. These rubber-tipped arrows usually stick to whatever they’re aimed at. Not this one. Thankfully, it bounces right off the bubble and lands on the floor. Whew!
Next up is Abby. She chews a small piece of paper, then stuffs the slimy spitball into a straw. She fires it at me, and it’s really hard not to duck this time too. But it also bounces right off the bubble without leaving even a drop of spit on the outside. This thing is AMAZING!
Carl picks up the baseball and tosses it from hand to hand. Even though I want to flinch, I’m secretly glad the All Ball isn’t on its heavy BOWLING BALL setting. He raises his eyebrows, still apparently having some doubts about this.
“Go ahead, Carl,” says Greg. “It’ll be okay. Let ’er rip!”
“Let ’er rip!” I think. I know how hard Carl can throw. I’ve seen him throw out runners from deep in the hole at short. I don’t think this is a very good—
Before I can finish my thought, I see Carl uncork a throw right at me. Pressing my palms against the sides of the bubble, I brace myself.
THWACK!
The baseball hits the bubble and bounces right back at Carl, who plucks it out of the air with his bare hand.
“And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. The No-Trouble Bubble!” says Greg.
The audience cheers.
And that’s when the bubble starts floating up into the air!
“Greg!” I shout. “Is it supposed to do this?”
“That’s one of the little bugs I’d like your help working out,” Greg shouts up to me.
Great idea, I think, I’d love to help you. If I ever get out of this thing! At the moment—up, up, UP!—I’m heading toward the ceiling! Woosh!
The stage crew rushes out with a very tall ladder. A stage hand climbs up quickly, grabs the bubble, and carries it back down to the stage. Now that I’m safely back on solid ground, I press the button again and the bubble vanishes.
“Sorry about that little glitch, Billy. Are you okay?”
Before I can answer, Manny steps up.
“Are you kidding?” he says to Greg. “That’s no glitch, that’s fantastic. Billy and I have been not only been trying to invent a Personal Force Field Belt, but we’ve been thinking about creating a hover device. I can see your invention ending up being the No-Trouble HOVER Bubble!”
That’s Manny, already marketing a product we haven’t even voted on yet!
“Thank you, Greg!” says Chris, as the judges all go back to our seats. “Well, those are our six finalists. How about a big hand for all of them, huh?”
The crowd claps. I look over my scores.
“Well, the big moment is almost here,” says Chris. “The judges will tally their scores and decide the winner, which they share with all of us, right after these messages!”
And the Winner Is . . .
AS WE GO to commercial, the judges huddle together and discuss our scores.
“Well, I’ve got a clear winner,” I say. “Despite that little, um, glitch, I think the No-Trouble Bubble is the way to go.”
“I’m with you, partner,” says Manny. “The No-Trouble Bubble is a no-brainer.”
“Well, I think we may have a problem, gang,” says Carl. “I think the Grow-With-You Shoes are the way to go. Don’t forget, the Hyenas are going to endorse the winner. A shoe with the Hyenas’ logo on it makes much more sense than a bubble you can’t even see. How are you gonna put a logo on that? How am I gonna come out and do a commercial for a clear bubble?”
All eyes turn to Emily.
“I’m with Carl,” she says. “Those shoes are great. And they’re ready to go. They could be in the stores in no time. I think they’re a fantastic idea. And if we make them in heels, Dad will have to let me have some for my birthday.”
Leave it to Emily. Her birthday is three weeks after mine, but she acts like it’s three weeks before.
“I’m with the shoes too,” says Abby. “I always have trouble finding shoes I like, or shoes that fit well. If I could buy one pair that looks good and fits well, and never think about buying shoes again, I’d be a happy camper.”
“Who wants only one pair of shoes for their whole life?” I ask. “Wouldn’t they wear out?”
“If they lasted through a kid’s childhood, that would be plenty,” Carl argues. “A kid who buys these will wear the Hyenas’ logo for years and years. That works for me.”
“Well, what do the scores tell us?” Manny asks.
Amazingly, when we do the math, the Grow-With-You Shoes and the No-Trouble Bubble have exactly the same total. It’s an ABSOLUTE TIE.
“So what are you going to do, Billy?” asks Emily. “It’s three judges against two.”
That would mean the Grow-With-You Shoes should be the winner, but Manny and I are Sure Things, Inc. Shouldn’t our votes count for more? After all, we’ll be the ones actually putting out the invention. Before I can say another word, the stage manager steps out.
“And we’re back from commercial in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one!”
“Welcome back!” says Chris. “The judges have been tallying their scores and talking among themselves. Now the MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR has arrived.”
Chris turns and looks right at the judges’ table. His voice turns deadly serious.
“Judges, do we have a winner?”
<
br /> All the judges look at me.
What can I do?
“No,” I say. “We don’t.”
The studio audience lets out a collective gasp!
“Still tallying the numbers, huh?” Chris says.
“No, we’ve added up our scores,” I explain, “but we have a tie between two inventions and we can’t come to an agreement.”
Again the crowd gasps.
I see Chris give an off-camera hand signal to the stage manager.
“Well, this is certainly unexpected,” he says, “but that’s the excitement and drama of live TV, where you should always expect the unexpected! We’re going to take another short break and we’ll be back with your winner!”
“And . . . we’re on break,” says the stage manager.
Chris walks quickly to the judges’ table.
“What’s the problem?” he asks.
I quickly fill him in on our disagreement.
“Well, I love this drama, it’s great for the ratings,” he says, looking right at Manny and me. “But you boys did sign a contract stating that you would pick a clear winner and that Sure Things, Inc. would produce that winner’s invention.”
The look on Manny’s face tells me all I need to know. He’s imagining our first legal battle, draining all the company’s profits. Not to mention what would happen to our reputation when word gets out that we didn’t hold up our end of the agreement.
Leave it to my hero, Carl Bourette, to come to the RESCUE.
“Hang on, everybody,” he says, standing up and pulling out his phone. “I have an idea. Let me make a quick call.”
“One minute to air!” shouts the stage manager.
I feel a knot form in my stomach as I stare at Carl talking quickly into his phone.
“Forty-five seconds!” shouts the stage manager.
The knot tightens. All Manny and I have worked for, all we have accomplished, might hinge on the outcome of this phone call.
“Thirty seconds!” calls the stage manager.
A big smile spreads across Carl’s face. He slips his phone back into his pocket.