by Luke Sharpe
“This isn’t ordinary makeup,” I explain. “It’s Disappearing Makeup.”
Emily picks up the lipstick. “Disappearing Makeup? What’s the point of that? If it disappears, you might as well not be wearing any makeup at all!”
“It disappears, but it comes back. When you put it on, it’s triggered by the heat and energy from your skin. Within five minutes, it disappears. But then five minutes later, it reappears! And it lasts for hours, until it finally disappears from your face for good!”
Emily takes in what I’m saying. She starts to look a little less miserable.
“So,” I continue, “here’s what you do. About five minutes before you’re going to leave for the party, you put on the makeup. Five minutes later, it’s disappeared. You go show your face to Dad, who smiles and says, ‘That’s my beautiful clean-faced girl! Have fun at the party!’ You hurry out the door, and within five minutes, you’re all made up for the party. You go to the party, dazzle everyone, and come home completely clean-faced for Dad’s late-night inspection. Simple!”
Emily gets it. She smiles. In fact, she’s so thrilled, she gives me a big hug! “Thank you, Billy! This is wonderful!”
I pull away. Ew!
She opens the eye shadow and inspects it. “Although this isn’t exactly the shade I like. Can you make me a soft bronze?”
What’s Swiped Up To, Anyway?
AFTER CHOKING DOWN SOME OF Dad’s lunch, I take Philo and go over to the office. As we walk in, Manny sinks a free throw and says, “Eighteen.”
“Wow! Eighteen! That’s really good,” I say.
“Thanks,” Manny says modestly. “My current goal is twenty-five.” The gadget that automatically returns the ball arrived in the mail yesterday.
It’s still kind of weird between Manny and me. I’m working on the Stink Spectacular, but not around Manny because I know he hasn’t warmed up to the idea. I think he knows I’m working on it, though, because he doesn’t ask me anything about when our next product will be coming out. He works on the marketing and sales of the All Ball and the Sibling Silencer. And he shoots free throws.
“I wonder what’s going on with Swiped,” I say. “Impostor Mom hasn’t written me any more e-mails.”
“Maybe that’s because he got what he wants,” Manny suggests. “Once we sent him the recipe, he had what he needed.”
“I just wish I knew what he’s up to. It seems like he took the bait, since he asked us for the Stench Quench recipe, but we don’t know what he’s doing with it. Once he saw the recipe, he may have rejected the idea. Or he may have figured out that the whole thing was a trap.”
Manny sets down the All Ball and goes over to his desk. He sits down and starts typing. “Let’s see if there’s any news about what Swiped is up to.”
He clicks on an article, reads a little, and says, “AHA! JACKPOT!”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Listen to this! ‘Alistair Swiped of Swiped Stuff, Inc. to introduce new product on prime-time TV!’ ”
“What? All right!”
Manny keeps reading. “Alistair Swiped, the CEO of Swiped Stuff, Inc. is betting big on his new product. He’s bought seriously expensive television time to introduce the mystery product tonight.”
“Tonight? That was quick!”
Manny turns and faces me. “Yeah, well, once he got the recipe, it wouldn’t take him that long to whip up a batch of Stench Quench. You did it in your kitchen in, what, twenty minutes?”
“I don’t think it even took that long.”
“So if you’re Swiped and you have the resources of your whole company behind you, you could probably get a bunch of Stench Quench made really quickly! I’ll see if anyone knows what the product is,” Manny says, turning back to his computer. He searches, and comes up with tons of articles. Lots of business websites have articles on Swiped’s bold move. They say that Swiped has even hired TV personality Chris Fernell, the host of the late-night talk show Better Than Sleeping!, to interview celebrities, getting their reactions to his exciting new product. But no one knows what the product is. Alistair Swiped has managed to keep that a secret, despite the best efforts of every business reporter to find out.
“Do you really think his new product is going to be Stench Quench?” I ask. “That would be so incredibly awesome!”
“And sweet revenge! Because the product would be sure to fail. Nobody wants a drink that smells awful,” Manny says gleefully.
This seems like a pretty obvious criticism of the Stink Spectacular, but I let it go. “Wanna sleep over at my house tonight and watch Swiped’s big show?”
“Sure,” Manny says. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
I’m a little worried that it might be kind of awkward having Manny spend the night while we’re disagreeing about the Stink Spectacular. But I have a plan.
After dinner I’m going to offer Manny an early version of the Stink Spectacular to show him how delicious it is. I’m pretty sure he’ll love it, and agree that we should produce it. But if he doesn’t, we won’t. I respect his opinions. That’s why he’s my chief financial officer.
Once Dad has finished his painting and comes into the kitchen to fix dinner, we wander in there to find out what he’s making. I figure it’s better to have a little time to get used to the smell of Dad’s dinner instead of just having his latest creation sprung on you. Like a deadly tiger.
Dad’s at the counter, mixing something in a bowl. “What’s for dinner, Dad?” I bravely ask.
“Well, it’s pretty warm today, so I thought maybe I’d grill.”
That doesn’t sound so bad.
“W-what are you grilling?” Manny asks nervously. He’s eaten at our house before. Though he usually does his best to avoid it.
“Cheeseburgers.”
CHEESEBURGERS?! Something normal? And potentially delicious?
“I thought maybe some simple, old-fashioned cheeseburgers might taste good tonight,” he continues. “I don’t have to cook gourmet creations every night. Besides, I’ve noticed a fair amount of food being left on plates lately.” He winks at me.
Cheeseburgers! Things are looking up!
Emily comes into the kitchen, which is unusual, since she usually avoids the kitchen when Dad’s cooking. She’s got her sulky face on. If there were contests for sulking, Emily’s room would be full of trophies.
“Well, the party tonight is going to be completely humiliating, since I’ll be the only one not wearing makeup,” she says.
She turns so that I can see her face but my father can’t. She shoots me a quick smile. It’s all an act. I think she’s laying it on a bit thick.
But my father buys it. “Now, honey,” he says reassuringly, “we’ve discussed this. Right now you’re too young for makeup. But don’t worry. We’ll revisit the whole makeup issue. When you’re sixteen.”
“By then it’ll be too late! I’ll already be a social outcast!” She stomps out of the room dramatically, flashing me another smile.
The Next Big Thing
AMAZINGLY, THE CHEESEBURGERS ARE DELICIOUS. Dad didn’t even put one little shred of kale in them. For once Philo hangs around while we eat. I toss him a bite. Chomp!
As we leave the dining room, Manny says, “I think those were the best cheeseburgers I ever had. Are you sure your dad made them?”
“Let’s have something else delicious!” I say, pretending it just occurred to me.
“Dessert?” Manny asks eagerly.
“Sort of,” I say. “Let’s go upstairs and try some Stink Spectacular!”
Manny’s face falls. “You’ve made the Stink Spectacular?”
“An early version,” I say. “I’m still refining it, but it’s good. Come on, give it a try.”
Manny hesitates. Then he nods his head slowly. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll try it.”
We go up to my room and I get a plastic jug out of the minifridge. It’s full of red liquid.
“It doesn’t look bad,” Manny says.
> “I want the color to be appealing, since the smell is so bad.”
As I take the lid off, Manny looks a little nervous. I pour two glasses and hand him one. He makes a face. “Yuck! Man, does this stink!”
“That’s the idea,” I say. “But wait till you taste it.”
He lifts the glass to his mouth, squeezes his eyes shut, and takes a tiny sip.
“Well?” I ask.
Before Manny answers, Emily comes in. She’s wearing the Disappearing Makeup. I don’t know much about makeup, but it looks to me as though she’s put on plenty.
“Well, what do you think?” she whispers.
“Is the party you’re going to, like, a circus party or something?” Manny asks, puzzled.
“Circus party? No! Why?”
“Because you’re wearing clown makeup,” Manny says. He still has a long way to go before he’s mastered talking to sisters.
“This is not clown makeup!” Emily hisses. “You obviously know nothing about makeup!”
“That’s true,” Manny admits.
“Eww,” Emily says, wrinkling her nose. “What’s that smell?”
“Stink Spectacular,” I answer, raising my glass. “Want some?”
She rolls her eyes and sighs, as though this is not even remotely worth an answer.
Suddenly Manny points at Emily. “Hey, the makeup looks better! Less clownlike!”
“That’s because it’s disappearing,” I explain. As we watch, Emily’s makeup fades away and completely disappears.
Emily looks at herself in the mirror. “Success! Gotta go!” She gives me a quick hug (I’m not sure I like the new hugging Emily) and rushes out to pass Dad’s inspection before she goes with her friends to the big party.
“What was that all about?” Manny asks, completely baffled.
I feel a little embarrassed to admit that I’ve been using my inventing skills on makeup. On the other hand, I’m proud that my Disappearing Makeup works.
“Dad won’t let Emily wear makeup, so I invented Disappearing Makeup. She puts it on, and after about five minutes it disappears. She shows her face to Dad and leaves for her party. In another five minutes, the makeup reappears and stays on for several hours. At the end of the night it disappears again, so Dad won’t see it when she gets home from the party.”
Manny just sits there, staring at me.
“It’s really no big deal,” I say, wondering if he’s mad that I spent so much time on something for Emily instead of focusing on inventing something for Sure Things, Inc. “Just a little thing I made for Emily because she helped us out with the Stench Quench video.”
“Disappearing Makeup,” Manny finally says, nodding slowly. “That . . . is . . . BRILLIANT!”
“It is?”
“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how big the cosmetics industry is?”
“Um . . . no.”
“It’s huge! A multibillion-dollar business! And I’m pretty sure teenage girls are a big chunk of that business! And your product is revolutionary! There’s never been anything like it!”
I shrug. “Thanks. Makeup’s not really my thing, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
Manny is so excited he stands up and paces around my room. “It may not be your thing, but it could be our next big thing! This is the product we’ve been waiting for!”
I trust Manny’s instincts. If he says Disappearing Makeup is a Sure Thing, I believe him. After all, we’re partners. We have to work together if Sure Things, Inc. is going to make it. Or keep making it.
I still like my idea for the Stink Spectacular. Actually, I love it. And I think kids would love it. But like I said, I trust Manny’s instincts.
“I think we should try to put out Disappearing Makeup as soon as possible,” Manny continues. “We’re still getting a lot of attention because of the All Ball and the Sibling Silencer, so we should launch another product while people are paying attention to Sure Things, Inc. And we need some huge platform for the launch.”
I’m confused. “We’re going to build a huge platform? Out of wood? Like a pirate ship?”
Manny laughs. “You never, ever read the business journals I loan you, do you?”
“I tried. Once. Too boring.”
“A platform is something you use to show off you new product, like the Internet or TV. Actually, the one good idea Swiped had was introducing his new product live on TV during prime time with lots of celebrities. He’ll probably get millions of viewers.”
“Speaking of the show, it’s time!” I realize.
We run downstairs to the living room.
Showtime!
MANNY AND I SETTLE DOWN with my Dad and Philo in the family room. “What is this that we’re watching, anyway?” Dad asks.
“It’s kind of a spy show,” Manny says.
“Okay,” Dad says. “I like spies.”
Enough to marry one? I think. From the look on his face, Manny’s thinking the same thing.
On the TV, a band plays some music, and Chris Fernell enters. The live studio audience applauds.
“Hello, everyone, and welcome to this very special television event! Tonight we’re going to learn about an exciting new product from world-famous businessman Alistair Swiped!”
“World famous?” my dad asks. “Never heard of him.”
“I know we’re all waiting to find out what the new mystery product is, so let’s bring it on out, okay?” Chris says enthusiastically.
The audience claps and cheers. A pretty woman wheels a cart out with cups, a bucket of ice, and a stack of cans on it.
“Do those cans say what I think they do?” Manny asks, excited.
“I think so!” I say, standing up and getting closer to our TV.
“Stench Quench!” we both yell at the same time. Philo barks, wanting to join in.
“Stench Quench?” Dad says. “What’s that? I thought this was a spy show.”
Chris Fernell picks up one of the cans and holds it out so the audience can see it. “Alistair Swiped’s exciting new product is . . . STENCH QUENCH!”
There’s some quiet, scattered applause, but mostly the audience seems quite puzzled.
Chris Fernell moves to a couch. “I know, it’s kind of a funny name. Let’s bring out the inventor to explain it to us. Please welcome . . . ALISTAIR SWIPED!”
A tall, thin man with stringy hair enters from behind a curtain and gives a little wave to the audience. I realize he looks a little bit like the man dressed all in gray in my dreams. And the man in the picture we got from my mom’s spy software. Wait, did I just call my mom a spy? I didn’t mean that! Anyway, I never realized before now that the guy in my dreams is the same guy from the picture.
Alistair Swiped.
He sits down on the couch next to Chris Fernell. Chris says, “So, Alistair, tell us. What’s the deal with Stench Quench?”
Swiped smiles, at least with his mouth. His eyes don’t really look like they’re smiling. “Well, Chris,” he says, “first let me ask you something. Do you have children?”
Chris smiles a real smile. “Yes, I do. Two beautiful children. Twins. A boy and a girl.”
“Do they like gross things?”
Chris laughs. “Yes! They love gross stuff! You should see the things they bring into the house! If we go to the park, it’s like they’ve got some kind of radar for grossness. They zoom right in on it! Next thing I know, it’s on our kitchen table!” The audience laughs.
“Well, Stench Quench is perfect for them! Stench Quench is a new drink that tastes even worse than it smells!”
“Okay,” Chris says, looking a little puzzled. “Should we try some?”
“I have an idea,” Swiped says, trying to act as though this idea just occurred to him, even though it obviously was planned. “Why don’t we let Dustin Peeler try some?”
The audience applauds, and Dustin Peeler enters through a curtain. Just last summer, he was the biggest pop star on the planet. But lately he’s been getting into trouble, and
he’s not quite as popular as he was. That’s probably why Swiped was able to hire him.
“Dustin Peeler . . . ,” Dad says. “Doesn’t Emily like him? Too bad she’s missing this. Maybe I should record it.”
“I don’t think Emily really likes Dustin Peeler anymore, Dad,” I say.
After greeting Chris Fernell and Alistair Swiped, Dustin pops open a can of Stench Quench. He’s obviously repulsed by the smell. “Whew!” he says, waving his hand in front of his nose.
“Isn’t that disgusting?” Swiped says. “Kids are gonna love it!”
Dustin holds the can in front of him, hesitating.
“Go ahead,” Swiped urges him. “Taste it!”
“Okay,” Dustin says. “Here goes.”
He lifts the can to his lips and drinks. His eyes bulge. You can see he wants to spit it out immediately, but Swiped glares at him, and he swallows the Stench Quench.
“Well?” Chris Fernell asks.
“Excuse me!” Dustin blurts out. He jumps up from the couch and runs off the stage. From the wings, there’s the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up.
Manny and I laugh. Dad’s totally confused. “I really don’t get this show at all.”
But we keep watching, and it just gets better and better. Fernell and Swiped keep bringing out different celebrities and audience members and kids to try drinking the Stench Quench, but they all end up having the same reaction as Dustin Peeler.
Soon the audience is booing. “This is terrible!” one woman yells. “Stop making people drink that horrible stuff!”
Even Chris Fernell can’t take it anymore. “I don’t care how much you’re paying me, Swiped. This is just wrong. Stench Quench is a DISASTER!”
The audience applauds. Utterly humiliated, Alistair Swiped gets up and runs off the set.
To tell the truth, I feel a little sorry for him. On the other hand, he’s a thief and a bad guy, so revenge is sweet.
Chris Fernell watches him go, and then checks his watch. “Well, this is a little awkward, folks. Swiped paid for half an hour of live television, and we’ve only used up eight minutes.” Chris is a professional, so he doesn’t look particularly nervous about having to fill twenty-two minutes of live television. “Let’s see who else is backstage,” he says, consulting a list. “Maybe there’s still someone back there who hasn’t been sickened by Stench Quench. Oh, here’s one of my favorite baseball players, the shortstop for the Hyenas, Carl Bourette!”