“Here’s another toilet full,” Victor said from the next stall over. “That’s it. They’re dead.”
“So dead,” Ratface added.
“Anyway, what about our shoes?” Sully said. “I am so sick of going barefoot. Especially with these pink toenails. Fronk and Bilgewater keep laughing at us.”
“We can still trade them in for new shoes,” Mugsy said. “Fish ’em out with the plunger.”
“I can’t believe we’re actually here, picking our shoes out of the toilet, because girls put them there,” Carlos said. “I thought boys were supposed to be the disgusting ones.”
“Girls give new meaning to the word 'disgusting,’” Victor said.
“How’s that plan coming for making the girls leave before the game comes around, huh, Cody?” Ratface said. “Seems to me these girls are the sticky kind. Hard to get rid of.”
“Like barnacles,” Victor said.
“Like tapeworms,” Carlos added. “Disgusting.”
“Yeah,” Ratface said. “Girls are the most revolting thing there is.”
“Girls make me puke,” Mugsy declared.
At field hockey practice that afternoon, Coach Howell passed out the field hockey equipment. Sort of.
“I don’t think this is a regulation field hockey stick,” Sully whispered to Cody. “I think it’s a femur.”
“A what?”
“A thigh bone,” Sully explained.
Cody dropped his stick. “Yuck!”
“It’s not a human bone,” Sully said. He examined the stick. “Unless it was a giant . . .”
“Hey, guys, check this out!” Victor dribbled the ball over to them. “The plastic hockey ball is made to look like a skull.”
Sully shook his head. “Hate to break this to you, but it’s not plastic. It’s a real skull.”
“This isn’t field hockey,” Ratface declared. “It’s sadistic torture! We’re too young and innocent for this kind of trauma. It messes with your head!”
“Your head’s already been messed with,” Victor said. He swung his bony hockey stick. “I kinda like it. Nice and primitive. The way sports were meant to be.”
Coach Howell blew his whistle. “All right, losers. Take turns playing goalie,” he said. “Runty. You go first.”
Ratface took a cautious step forward. “The goalie wears, like, full-body padding, right? And a helmet? And a mask?”
Coach Howell let out a barking laugh. “Not on my team. Only the strong survive. You ready, boys? Grab your hockey sticks. Line up. Ready, aim, fire!”
It was a brutal field hockey practice. Howell made each of the boys take a turn playing goalie, and they were completely covered in bruises by the time practice finally ended. The only reason they didn’t all suffer permanent brain damage was that most of them were pretty bad at taking shots on goal.
Finally, they returned to their locker room to shower. They went to the cafeteria and ate dinner (horseradish mousse atop bean sprout and jalapeno pudding) without even noticing how vile it was.
After dinner, Cody headed for the library to look for books on flying. After a long search, he finally found what he was looking for: Piloting Antique Biplanes for Dum-Dums. Perfect.
On his way back, Cody took a different route, hoping to pass Miss Prim’s room. Maybe, he thought, if he searched her room, he could get answers to some questions. Like why did she want to take control of Splurch Academy? What weirdo would want that?
Cody was just about to open her bedroom door when the scent of lilac perfume and a woman humming made him stop.
Weird, Cody thought.
Miss Prim popped a breath mint into her mouth from the little tin she always carried. Then she dabbed face cream onto her cheeks, pausing often to study her skin. As she did, she sang:“Make me young and make me perky.
Magic face cream, soak right in.
Oh, my brother’s foul and jerky.
Can’t wait for my girls to win.”
Princess wrapped her monkey tail around Priscilla’s waist. “There’s my sweetie pie,” Priscilla said. “Aren’t you, my pootikins?” She giggled. “It’s good to be back in our old home, isn’t it? Soon Splurch Academy will be mine once more. And when Archie-Farchie’s gone for good, I’ll recover all the treasures he’s ever stolen from me, the greedy, little brat.”
Cody backed away slowly.
So there really were stolen treasures? The girls weren’t just making it up.
If what the girls said about trapdoors and passageways was true, they could be anywhere. How could he ever find out?
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE EXPERIMENT
The sun had almost fully set when Cody tiptoed away from Miss Prim’s door. Soon, any moment now Cody knew, the teachers would transform into their hideous monster selves and go out on the lawn to romp around, hunting and frolicking.
Down the hall, Cody saw Farley leave his laboratory. He didn’t latch the door fully. Here was his chance! The door was open, and Farley was gone. He could sneak in there, smash the glass dome, rescue Uncle Rastus, and be out and long gone before Farley returned.
Cody slipped through the doorway and into the laboratory’s shadows. Farley’s table with the equipment and the bones was still in view. There sat Uncle Rastus, under his glass dome, looking as lifeless as ever.
Footsteps in the doorway made him freeze. It was Farley, back already. Shoot. Cody flattened himself back into the shadows. The headmaster put on a lab coat.
“Let’s give it one more go, shall we?” Farley said aloud. There was no one else around. Lunatics often talked to themselves, didn’t they? Farley wasn’t talking to Cody, was he? Cody held his breath, praying the headmaster hadn’t seen him.
“My sister thinks she’s so clever,” Farley muttered. He raised Rastus’s dome. “Once Rover’s back, she’ll be singing a different tune. He’s got a bone to pick with her!”
Rover? Cody shook his head. The Mongrelo-whatever. The dinosaur was named Rover.
Farley opened a closet door and pulled out a large treadmill, the kind Cody’s dad used to exercise on at home. He started the motor, then plopped Rastus on the treadmill and attached cables to his skull. Then Farley attached those same cables to the small dinosaur bones and placed them on the treadmill next to Rastus. The cables ran through the strange device that looked like an old car battery with needles and wire—the Animatrometer.
Rastus had no choice but to run with the rolling treadmill underneath his feet. As soon as he ran, the dinosaur ran, too.
So, Rastus, you can move on your own, Cody thought. I knew it.
The needle on the Animatrometer hovered at MOSTLY DEAD. Farley stared at the device. “Come on,” he whispered. “Come on!” But the needle never went past MOSTLY DEAD.
Farley went over to the treadmill and tried adjusting Rastus’s wires. The skeleton swiped at him. The dino-dog did the same!
Whatever Rastus does, the dinosaur does, Cody thought. It’s like it’s a puppet. And Farley’s trying to get Rastus to bring the puppet to life!
Farley shook his fists in the air. “You’re holding out on me!” he cried. “What’s your secret? I don’t just want a walking set of bones! I want my Rover back!”
In response, Uncle Rastus looked away from Farley. Rover’s head did the same.
Farley’s shoulders sagged. He switched off the treadmill. Rastus and Rover collapsed in a heap of bones and lay there. The needle on the Animatrometer dipped to DEAD.
Farley unclipped Rastus’s cables and put his dead uncle back in his dome. He ran his finger along the treadmill, where a coating of dust lay. He took a whisk broom from the wall and began tidying.
Then he stopped.
He sifted the dust through his fingers.
He looked at Rover, then at the dust.
Farley grabbed an empty glass vial from his chemistry set and filled it with the grayish powder. He mixed chemicals into a beaker, then poured the dust in.
BANG.
CHAPTER TH
IRTEEN
THE PLAN
Early the next morning in their stable dormitory, Cody told the boys what he’d seen the night before in Farley’s lab. Sully, Ratface, and Carlos listened as they worked on a project—a new plan for getting even with the girls that involved snipping and bending and stitching.
“And then the little dinosaur thing came to life!” Cody explained.
“Creepy,” Sully said. “But I don’t see why we should be worried. A dinosaur skeleton that’s the size of a dog doesn’t sound any more dangerous than Pavlov.”
“Yeah,” Carlos said. “Rover! What a dumb name for a lizard. I’ll bet Pavlov gets jealous and buries all the lizard’s bones in different holes all over the yard.”
They all worked busily. Carlos hammered and rigged and twisted wire, while Sully used rags, buttons, needles, and thread. Cody scribbled something on a sheet of paper.
“This is brilliant, Cody,” Carlos said. “Pass me a nail?”
“The idea was half yours,” Cody said generously. “Does this map look right?”
The noise woke Victor up. “What’s this for?” he asked.
“A present for the girls,” Sully said cryptically. “You’ll see soon enough.”
He handed what he’d been stitching to Carlos. “Attach those,” he said. When Carlos was done, Sully stuffed everything into a bag and handed it to Ratface. “Whenever you’re ready,” he told him. “You know where it goes.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” Ratface saluted Sully and took off.
Later, at breakfast, Cody went over to the boys’ old table, now occupied by the girls, and tapped Virginia on the shoulder.
“What do you want?” Virginia stabbed her french toast with her fork. “By the way, nice shoes.”
Cody tossed a folded piece of paper onto the table. “I think we ought to have a truce,” he said. “Why can’t we all get along.”
Virginia glared at him.
“No, I’m serious,” Cody said. “I mean, you probably don’t want to be here any more than we do. Right?”
“Good luck finding it,” Cody said. “I’ll warn you, it’s in a dangerous place. If you’re not brave enough, let us know. We’ll help.”
“We’re braver than you are, you pinheads,” Roxanne snorted.
Virginia held up a hand. “Let’s give this a shot.” She peered at Cody thoughtfully. “Thanks. I think.”
When the bell rang for lunch, the girls exchanged secretive glances, then hurried out the door. Cody, Ratface, Carlos, and Sully started laughing.
“The fun begins,” Ratface said.
The boys tiptoed after them, ducking around corners to spy on the girls.
“Down in the darkest dungeon,” Virginia read from the map. “Find the trapdoor next to the water pipes.”
The boys waited by the cellar door until all the girls were through the cast-iron door.
“The sewers?” Mugsy gasped. “You’re sending them through the sewers?”
“Shh!” Sully hissed.
They headed down the stairs and peeked.
Cody laughed so hard, there were tears in his eyes. “Brilliant!” He thumped Sully on the back. “Sheer genius!”
“Watch it,” Sully said. “You nearly pushed me in.”
“Here come the sewer monsters,” Ratface said, pointing to the girls. “Run!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE DETENTION
“It was worth it to see those girls fall into the sewer,” Carlos declared. “A night’s detention chained to a brick wall is a small price to pay.”
“I don’t know,” Mugsy said. “The stocks were growing on me. Too bad the seventh-graders were already using them tonight.”
“We didn’t even get to miss hockey practice for our crimes,” Sully moaned. “A fifteen-mile run! My legs feel like they’re made of Jell-O.”
“Your legs are made of Jell-O,” Victor said.
Cody looked around. The room they were in was on the fourth floor—one Cody had never seen before. The boys were chained to a brick wall.
It was going to be a long night.
“The game’s tomorrow,” Cody said. “We’ve got to steal that plane first thing in the morning and make our escape.”
“Will you cut it out with your crazy plane idea?” Victor snapped. “You’ll get us all killed. We couldn’t even drive a car out of here. There’s no way we’ll escape in a plane!”
“Wrong,” Cody said. “I’ve been reading my book about it. Those old planes had a lot fewer levers and things than newer ones. No computers, even. A baby could fly one.”
“Rii-iight,” Victor said. “And you expect us to get in a plane with you because you’ve got a book about it. Fat chance.”
“We should just let the girls win,” Mugsy said. “Farley goes. They stay. We deal.”
“You’re nuts if you think Farley’ll leave without a fight,” Cody said. “If the girls win, we’ll face his wrath somehow.”
Victor’s face went red. “Like that’s anything new,” he said, his voice rising. “We face Farley’s wrath every day.” He rattled his chains and thrashed his arms and legs against the brick wall.
“A broom closet?” Cody said. “A secret wall just to hide brooms?”
“It’s not a broom closet,” Sully said. “It’s like a museum. A shrine to brooms.”
“Maybe that’s why Splurch Academy is so filthy,” Ratface said. “Someone hid all the brooms.”
“At least now we know about a secret hiding place,” Cody said. “That could come in handy sometime.”
“What if we’re stuck here forever?” Sully said, starting to panic. “What if we can’t get back?”
“Hold on,” Cody said. “Victor, bang your head again.”
“I’m gonna have a concussion as it is,” Victor grumbled. He threw back his head one more time, and the floor slowly rotated back to its original position. It stopped with a bang and a shudder.
“That was bizarre,” Ratface said.
“Splurch Academy—always full of surprises,” Carlos said.
A few minutes passed.
“Was I hallucinating, or did we just find a secret hidden room full of brooms?” Sully asked.
“You weren’t hallucinating, Sully,” Cody said. “Not today.”
“How does Farley expect us to play well tomorrow if we’re chained up here all night?” Ratface wondered.
“Does it make any difference?” Sully said. “Whoever wins or loses, we’ll still be here, and life will still stink.”
“It’ll stink way worse if we lose to girls,” Victor added.
“We’re not going to play at all,” Cody said. “Tomorrow morning we’re flying home in Priscilla Prim’s plane.”
Sully shook his head. “You’re the one that’s hallucinating,” he said. “Dream on.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE GAME
Coach Howell and Farley woke the boys up early the next morning. Howell didn’t ask the boys to wake up, he just grabbed each one by the ankle and yanked him upside down.
Oh no, Cody thought. I missed it. I missed my chance to get us all up early and fly away in Priscilla’s plane. We’re toast.
“Game time,” Farley said. “Rise and shine, athletes. Today you show those beastly girls what real men are made of.”
Mugsy spit straw out of his mouth and sneezed. “What?”
“Meat,” Coach Howell said as if in a daze. “Real men are made of red, juicy, dripping, delicious meat.”
“Pull yourself together, Howell,” Farley ordered. “It’s breakfast time for the boys. Not you.”
He pulled the lid off a cart to reveal a smorgasbord of hot, steaming breakfast food. Good stuff! It looked like Farley had ordered breakfast from a restaurant instead of having Griselda cook. It was unbelievable.
“Food!” Mugsy cried. “Lemme at it!”
Howell dropped the boys, and they attacked the food. They didn’t bother with plates or forks but just shoved fistfuls of food in thei
r mouths. But after only about five seconds . . .
“That’s enough,” Farley said. “Too much food and you’ll play poorly. After you beat the girls, there’ll be a celebration feast. If you don’t . . .” Farley paused.
“You’ll be the celebration feast.” Coach Howell licked his lips.
“Quiet,” Farley muttered.
Howell smeared the other boys with face paint. They put on their sneakers, took their boney hockey sticks, and followed Farley and Howell out into the cold, morning air.
The bleachers were full of the other boys from Splurch Academy as well as other girls from Priscilla Prim, who had arrived to see the game. Nurse Bilgewater, dressed in a striped referee’s jersey, paced the sidelines and blew blasts on her whistle. Desdemona Chartricia Sackville-Smack, the Grand Inquisitrix of the League of Reform Schools for Fiendish Children—and Farley and Priscilla’s mother—huddled in her wheelchair, bundled against the cold.
Cody felt sick to his stomach.
Ratface looked at their hockey coach, standing a ways off and licking his lips.
“Do you mean Coach Howell?” he asked.
Farley chuckled. “Worse,” he told them. “Much, much worse.”
He patted his jacket pocket, but all Cody saw there was the antenna of his walkie-talkie poking out.
Referee Bilgewater blew her whistle, and the boys jogged over to the midline of the field. The Priscilla Prim girls in the stands booed at them, and so did the other Splurch boys, who still hadn’t forgiven the fifth-graders for bringing Farley back.
“Nice to know the fans support us,” Victor grumbled.
Then the Priscilla Prim team of fifth-graders came trotting out onto the field. They took one look at Cody and his friends and busted out laughing.
The Colossal Fossil Freakout #3 Page 5