"Tommy, wait!" says Chonganda.
"I'll never measure up to Rhino Man!" snaps Tommy as he hurls the door open and charges out of the room. "I'm going to grow up to be a complete failure!"
*****
Chapter 6
As Tommy storms away from us, Chonganda dives for the putty. "He must not have read the whole comic! He missed the last panel!"
I shake my head hard, getting over the shock of Tommy bolting out of the room. "What about the last panel? I didn't get to read it, either!"
"You'll see!" Chonganda scoops up the putty and dashes past me. "Now come on! We need to catch up with him!"
Chonganda runs out of the room with me close behind. We dart down the hall, through the living room, and out the front door in nothing flat.
Outside, I see Tommy stomping down the sidewalk with shoulders hunched and fists clenched. I've never seen him so upset.
"I'm going on ahead," Chonganda tells me. "I need to head him off."
With a snap of his fingers, Chonganda is gone. Yay for godly super-powers, right? He reappears on the sidewalk in front of Tommy.
I cut across the neighbor's yard, running as hard as I can to catch up with them before something goes wrong again. When I get there, Tommy's shaking his head and waving his hands in the air, refusing to cooperate.
"But I just need you to take a look at one thing!" says Chonganda.
"Forget it!" says Tommy. "I don't need any more peeks into the future! That last one showed me everything I need to know."
"You don't understand." Chonganda presses the Prophecy Putty toward Tommy. "There's a panel you didn't read on the last comic strip! You're going to like the ending after all!"
"Not interested!" Tommy pushes the putty away. "I'll grow up to be a failure! What else do I need to know?"
What's so important about the one panel that Tommy and I haven't seen? I decide it's time to find out. "Give me that a minute." I snatch the putty from Chonganda's hands and read the one last square of the comic strip copied onto the sticky gray mass.
Which is when I finally understand.
"Hey, Tommy." I hold out the putty in his direction. "Please read this. Trust me. You won't be sorry."
Tommy glares as he grabs the flattened putty and reads what's on it. Then he smiles.
Because it all makes sense now. He won't be a failure when he grows up, at least according to his gross standards.
"Oh." Tommy becomes much calmer after he reads the last panel. "It was only a dream."
"See?" I jab him in the side with my elbow. "Everything's going to be okay after all."
Tommy scans the panel again, then hands the putty back to Chonganda. "But what if that dream comes true? What if it shakes me up so bad, I turn into a neat freak in real life?"
"I don't think you have to worry about that," says Chonganda, "but let's double-check." He rolls up the putty, flattens it between his palms, and sticks it on Tommy's forehead. "Concentrate on the comic strip you just read, Tommy. Try to focus on wanting to see what happens next."
"Will do, mildew." Tommy closes his eyes.
Chonganda leaves the putty on Tommy's forehead for what seems like an extra long time. When he peels it off, and we read it, the message comes through loud and clear.
"Now that's more like it," says Tommy. "That's exactly the kind of grown-up I want to be."
"I knew that last one couldn't be for real," I say.
"Let's check some more to be sure." Chonganda prepares the putty and applies it to Tommy's forehead. "Just in case that was a fluke." Again, he leaves the putty stuck to Tommy longer than usual. Again, when he peels it off, we crowd around and stare.
Tommy and I are both grinning when we look up from the putty comic. I can tell we're both thinking the same thing about it.
"Awesome!" I'm the first to say it out loud. "Now that is super-gross!"
"Totally," says Tommy, but then his smile fades.
"What's wrong?" says Chonganda.
"I was just thinking." Tommy scowls and scrubs crusty fingers through his rat's nest of hair. "In all these scenes from the future, why don't I ever see either of you two?"
"Good question." I frown as I think it over. "Maybe we just go our separate ways when we grow up."
Tommy sighs and slumps. "Or maybe, I just won't have any friends."
*****
Chapter 7
"Here's what I want you to do." Chonganda readies the putty and attaches it to Tommy's forehead. "This time, concentrate on friends. Think about the friends you'll have as a grown-up."
"All right," says Tommy. "If you say so."
"Bob Noxious, huh?" That's what Tommy says as we read the latest comic strip copied on the Prophecy Putty. "Not much of a friend, if you ask me."
"Let's try again," says Chonganda as he flattens the putty.
"Okay, you've convinced me," says Tommy. "Maybe I'll be okay in the friendship department after all."
"That's great," says Chonganda. "And you feel better about growing up in general? You think you'll measure up to Rhino Man?"
Tommy thinks for a moment and scuffs his feet on the sidewalk. "Almost," he says.
Chonganda laughs. "You're a hard man to convince, brother Tommy."
*****
Chapter 8
"I can show you two more peeks into the future," says Chonganda. "Then I have to go home to my realm of Effluvium for the night."
"Fair enough," says Tommy.
Chonganda rolls and stretches the putty and places it on Tommy's forehead. "I wonder what we'll see this time?"
"Something really gross, I'll bet," I say.
"Me, too," says Chonganda.
"I don't get it," says Tommy. "What do they mean when they talk about brushing your teeth?"
Chonganda and I both laugh. "At least we know that one has to be true," I say, as if there was ever any doubt. For as long as I've known Tommy, his breath has been strong enough to peel the paint off a battleship. His teeth have always looked like a field of rotting tomatoes squirming with nightcrawlers.
"Okay, Tommy," says Chonganda as he works the putty in his hands. "One more peek at the future."
*****
Chapter 9
"That's all she wrote, guys." Chonganda plops the Prophecy Putty in the pocket of his tunic and brushes his hands together. "I hope it did the trick."
"Me, too." I look at Tommy. "What do you say? Are you feeling better about things?"
Tommy doesn't answer for a moment. He stands there with his dirt-smudged arms folded over his filthy t-shirt and stares off into space. The summer breeze stirs the ratty twin plumes of his hair, sending dandruff flakes and lice swirling through the hot afternoon air.
Then, Tommy slowly turns and fixes his high-intensity stare on Chonganda and me. "I've gotta go," he says. "There's something I've gotta do."
Without another word, he spins and marches away from us, heading down the street.
Chonganda frowns as we watch Tommy leave. "Does this mean he's better?"
"Who knows?" I say with a shrug. "I'll let you know when I find out." Then, I jog after my best friend, who's already halfway to the end of the street.
Chonganda calls after me. "Good luck, Josh! Good luck, Tommy!"
"Thanks, Chonny!" I turn and wave. "And thanks for the peeks at the future."
"Happy to help!" says Chonganda as he fades away, returning to his godly realm of Effluvium. "See you soon!"
Then, he's gone, and I'm following my pal Tommy toward whatever mysterious destination he has in mind.
*****
On the way to wherever we're going, I keep asking Tommy what's up. I keep trying to find out where he's headed and what he plans to do there. But he won't say a word. He just keeps charging forward through the neighborhood like a tank on a mission.
He has a definite purpose in mind. Beyond that, I have no idea what he's planning.
We zip down street after street, turning corner after corner. Pretty soon, we're out of the
neighborhood, standing at the top of a wooded hillside.
"What's down there?" I ask. "It just looks like some kind of culvert."
"Come on," is all that Tommy says as he starts down the hill.
I follow, but it isn't easy. The hillside's pretty steep. I have to scuffle down it on the sides of my feet, holding on to tree trunks whenever I can. Tommy doesn't seem to have the same problem; he just runs down the hill like the steep slope has no effect on him. I wonder if it's something to do with the strange mixture of dirt, slime, and debris he carries around on his body all the time.
He reaches the bottom in nothing flat, but it takes me longer to catch up. At one point, I lose my footing and slide through the dirt and rock on my back--at least until I catch hold of a big root sticking out of the ground. Using the root, I pull myself up to the base of a tree, and then I use the tree to get back on my feet.
I inch along a rocky ledge running sideways and down till I get to a section of slope that's much steeper but smooth. Tommy's gone, he kept moving when he reached the bottom, so I'm in a hurry; I slide down the slope on my butt like I'm riding a sliding board, and then I'm done with the hill.
The trees and brush are thick on the floor of the culvert. I can't see Tommy at first...but then I hear his voice, and I run in that direction.
I slow down when I hear a second voice coming from the same place. It's the voice of a grown-up.
"How dare you?" says the grown-up. "How dare you challenge me in my own secret lair?"
"Wait!" says Tommy. "You don't under--"
"I will destroy you!" The grown-up sounds enraged...and something else. He sounds familiar. "I will engulf you with my unstoppable power!"
Suddenly, the pieces fall into place. I know that voice. And I start running again.
Because Tommy's in danger.
That's Rhino Man's voice over there!
*****
Chapter 10
When I burst from the thick brush into a clearing, I see the two of them--Tommy and Rhino Man, facing off. There's less than ten feet between them.
Behind Rhino Man, I see a rundown shack with blue tarp awnings all around. Piles of junk are heaped under the awnings--everything from baby dolls to car parts to buckets of crushed tin cans. Beyond the awnings, I see a huge vegetable garden and pots of colorful flowers. There's a clothesline tied between trees, strung with two pair of Rhino Man's trademark red long johns.
This must be his home. But why did Tommy want to come here?
One explanation leaps to mind. Now that he's seen the future and gotten his mojo back, did he decide to prove he measures up? Did he decide to take on Rhino Man?
"Prepare for complete annihilation!" Rhino Man reaches back and unbuttons the butt flap of his long johns.
"No, wait!" Tommy takes a step toward him. "I keep trying to tell you, I just want to--"
"Banzai!" howls Rhino Man as he spins around so his bare butt faces Tommy. "Face my wrath, interloper!"
Suddenly, a juicy blast of poop sprays out of his butt like buckshot from a rifle. There's so much power behind it, the poop shows no sign of slowing as it crosses the distance, aimed dead-on at Tommy.
"Watch out!" I shout, but there's no need for the warning.
Tommy's already in motion, diving out of the way. As the poop sprays the spot where he once stood, he tucks his head and rolls over the ground, then springs to his feet like a gymnast.
Whirling, Rhino Man horks up a loogie and spews it in Tommy's direction. It looks to me like there's no way Tommy can avoid it.
And he doesn't. Instead, he blows out a monster loogie of his own, deflecting the one from Rhino Man. The two gooey blobs collide in midair, then flop to the ground in a slushy puddle.
From there, the fight becomes a lightning-fast battle of gross-lords. Each disgusting weapon is matched with one that is even more disgusting. Every move is perfectly countered and parried with superhuman skill.
As I watch, I realize what a privilege it is to see this. I am a witness to a war of true champions in the field of gross-out combat.
Then, after a vicious barrage of scabs, toe jam, and belly button lint, Rhino Man suddenly stops. With a smooth, graceful motion, he gathers himself into a fighting stance--a crouch that looks all too familiar.
Right away, I know where I've seen that stance before. The Mall.
He's going to use the puke-poop-snot triple spin blowout.
I want to warn Tommy, but it's too late. Rhino Man is already leaping, sticking a finger down his throat to trigger his vomit reflex.
Tommy just stands and watches as Rhino Man leaps toward him. He doesn't move a muscle.
A shudder races up my back. Tommy's doomed. From what I can see, there's no way he can get clear in time.
It's a horrible thing to watch. I keep waiting for Tommy to pull some trick out of his filthy sleeve at the last second...and he never does. Was I wrong about him getting his mojo back?
Rhino Man leaps and spins, shooting out puke, poop, and the biggest snot rocket I've ever seen, one after another. He moves with incredible grace, like an upchucking, crapping, mucus-spewing ballerina crossing the stage as the symphony orchestra plays a dramatic crescendo.
And that trick I keep waiting for never comes.
Tommy just stands there as the rancid storm splatters him. He never budges, never even blinks as puke, feces, and snot rain down over his body.
And then it's over. Rhino Man lands in a kung fu stance, facing his victim. And Tommy just stands there like a statue coated in slimy, dripping muck.
I call his name. "Tommy?" I'm not sure what else to do at this moment.
Rhino Man just stares at him. "Is that your name?" His silver hair horns quiver like antennae on top of his head.
Tommy nods once. "Call me Tommy Puke," he says calmly. "And I'm done fighting you."
Rhino Man frowns. "You're a brave boy, Tommy Puke." Slowly, he relaxes his stance and straightens. "No one has ever withstood my triple blaster move without passing out or running away screaming before."
Again, Tommy nods. "Someday, I will be better than you." He looks my way. "My friends helped me see it's my destiny."
"Is that so?" Rhino Man snorts and spits a wad of phlegm on the ground.
"But once I realized it was possible, I also knew there was a way to make it more possible. That's why I came here." Tommy stiffens and raises his chin. "I want you to teach me to be as gross and disgusting as you are."
Rhino Man wags his head and chuckles. "No one has ever asked me that before."
"Will you do it?" says Tommy.
Rhino Man reaches up and adjusts his hair horns. "Well, I don't know. You do have some natural talent, Tommy Puke. You fight well."
Tommy bows at the waist. "Thank you, sensei."
"And you do remind me of someone." Rhino Man sniffs and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. "Someone I once knew."
"I won't let you down," says Tommy. "I will use what you teach me for the cause of good."
Rhino Man smiles. "All right, then." He walks over to Tommy and reaches out with one poop-puke-and-snot-covered hand. "I'm Gary Lindstrom. Nice to meet you, Tommy Puke."
Tommy, who was already coated with every kind of oozing goop and putrid slime, reached out and shook hands with his new teacher.
And that's the story of how my best friend, Tommy Puke, became a student of the totally disgusting Rhino Man.
And how we both finally learned that Rhino Man had a real name and was a very real person underneath all that slop.
The End
*****
If you liked Tommy Puke and the World's Grossest Grown-Up,
you'll love LUMP!
Meet a kid so bad, he gets a lump of coal for Christmas every year...and likes it! Neighborhood bully Buzz Scanlan takes pride in his annual lump, which he sees as a black badge of badness. But this year, when the coal doesn't come, the ten-year-old holy terror becomes a bad boy on a mission. He roams from one victim of his wicked mi
schief to the next, digging for dirt on the one nice thing he must have done to deserve no coal. When everyone agrees he's been nothing but naughty, he nearly gives up the hunt...until he stumbles onto the shocking truth behind his lumps of coal, an incredible secret that just might change his life forever. Will Buzz get his lump after all, sealing his fate as the ultimate bully? Or will solving the mystery lead to a fate worse than death for the naughtiest boy, an unexpected good deed that breaks his not-nice record?
Don't miss this fun and funny tale with a twist from award-winning author Robert T. Jeschonek. Expect the unexpected in this fresh new holiday classic for all ages.
LUMP
A story as twisted and fun as
Tommy Puke, Grown Up and Gross
On sale now!
*****
And here's a special preview of another adventure of the one and only
Tommy Puke!
Tommy Puke and the Boy with the Golden Barf
By
Robert T. Jeschonek
Chapter 1
"Look!" Tommy Puke, the most disgusting kid in town—and my only friend—points a filthy finger at a shadowy niche in the sewer wall. "There it is!"
As I lean forward to look over his shoulder, my eyes cross from the stench of his body odor. I want to lean back to get away from the smell...but then I catch sight of what he's pointing at, gleaming in the flare of his flashlight.
Tommy Puke and the World's Grossest Grown-Up Page 2