For Simone Zheng—JM
For Ben and Antje Chenoweth—EC
For Maureen, my caring and hardworking wife, who puts up with my descent to the dungeon to draw silly pictures—RM
PENGUIN WORKSHOP
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Text copyright © 2020 by John Bemelmans Marciano and Emily Chenoweth. Illustrations copyright © 2020 by Robb Mommaerts. All rights reserved. Published by Penguin Workshop, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. PENGUIN and PENGUIN WORKSHOP are trademarks of Penguin Books Ltd, and the W colophon is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
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Ebook ISBN 9780593096239
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CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Copyright
Chapter 0
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
About the Authors
CHAPTER 0
Refresh.
Refresh.
Refresh.
Hiss! No matter how many times I checked my communicator messages, the Galacta-vite had yet to appear—and the evil warlords convention was mere moonrises away!
Perhaps the invitation had been delayed by meteor showers in the Blargian Quadrant. I set an alert to notify me the instant it came in, and then closed my eyes to take a Calming Nap.
How I looked forward to these gatherings of A.W.E.S.O.M.E.—the Allied Warlords of Evil, Sabotage, Oppression, and More Evil. In attendance would be the most diabolical tyrants, despots, and dictators in the entire universe.
It is so fulfilling to be among one’s peers.
“Klawde! Hey, Klawde! Are you down in the basement?”
It was the boy-ogre, home from school. He descended into the bunker in a more positive mood than usual.
“I did so good at the shootaround today,” he said. “I sank more baskets than most of the seventh-graders! I’m so glad it’s finally basketball season.”
Though I explicitly told him not to, the Human then described this “basketball” to me. It was a comically absurd activity in which ogres patted an inflated rubber globe with their flat, oversize paws so it would bounce repeatedly upon the ground. At random moments, they would hurl it into the air, aiming for a hoop suspended above their heads.
The game seemed little more advanced than the one played by the cave cats of yore, who batted around the skulls of their enemies—and so much less amusing.
“Ogre, your chatter is exceptionally mind-numbing today,” I said. “Do you have nothing interesting to speak of?” I did need to take my mind off the missing AWESOME invitation.
“Well, I’m doing a school report about a tyrannical general turned dictator.”
“Raj,” I said. “I am touched.”
“It’s not about you,” the boy-ogre said. “It’s about Napoleon.”
Apparently this particular ogre-warlord had led armies that vanquished one part of a small landmass called “Europe” over two hundred years ago. How was that impressive? He couldn’t bring even half of Earth to its knees?
“But he conquered a bunch of different countries,” the boy-Human said.
“I do not understand why you ogres even divide yourselves up at all. Don’t you realize that you are all utterly the same? I can hardly tell one of you from the other,” I said. “Now, cats, on the other hand—each one of us is an entirely unique and memorable individual.”
The ogre rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve got a problem. My partner on the project is Newt. You know how mean she is to me.”
“Ah, yes, the one who ran over your stuffed bear with that wheeled board she rides? And who constantly humiliates you with her superior cunning?” I said.
“Uh, yeah,” the ogre said. “Her.”
“Excellent! Now you have the chance to beat her at her own game. Expose her as an unworthy fraud. As an imbecile!”
“But that would only hurt me. Because we’re partners, we get graded together.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I don’t think you understand the point of teamwork, Klawde,” he said.
About this, the boy-ogre was perhaps correct. Why work with someone else when you could work against them? It was yet another example of ogre stupidity.
CHAPTER 1
At breakfast, my parents asked me about my school project, but that was the last thing I wanted to talk about.
“Basketball tryouts are today,” I said. “I’m really hoping to make the varsity team.”
“But you’re only in sixth grade, dear,” Mom said.
“I know, but I was as good as the seventh graders back in Brooklyn.”
“Well, good luck,” she said. “Although I do wish you were doing a more interesting sport. Like fencing. Or chess!”
“Chess isn’t a sport, Mom.”
“You’re going to do great, Raj,” Dad said. He nudged me with an elbow. “And maybe you’ll give baseball a try in the spring!”
“That’s barely a sport, either,” I mumbled.
As I got up to clear my place, Klawde jumped onto the table and took a bite of scrambled eggs off Dad’s plate.
“Krish, don’t let the cat do that,” Mom said.
Like “let” had anything to do with it. Klawde stared Dad down and then—with lightning quickness—slashed him across the back of his hand.
Dad shook his finger and said, “Naughty kitty!”
With similar lightning quickness, Mom scooped Klawde off the table.
“Pets do not eat on tables in this house.”
Klawde let out a major hiss, but I knew he wouldn’t risk scratching her. He might be evil, but he wasn’t stupid.
CHAPTER 2
After the boy-Human spent an inexplicable amount of time deciding which of his many pairs of “sneakers” to don, he stuffed his belongings into a backpack and trudged off to his pointless school. As for me, I had just settled into a post-breakfast nap when I heard the sound I had been waiting for.
The alert!
I raced down the stairs, and there it was on my communicator: a message from the Allied Warlords of Evil.
Finally.
When I touched the message, however, a Galactavite did not appear. Rather, it was something far less pleasant.
MEMBERSHIP STATUS CHANGE NOTIFICATION
TO: Wyss-Kuzz, former supreme warlord of Lyttyrboks; present house cat of Earth
FROM: The Allied Warlords of Evil, Sabotage, Oppression, and More Evil
REASON: INSUFFICIENT WARLORDING ACTIVITY
It has been over 10,000 time units since member was in control of a galaxy, solar system, or planet. Furthermore, member has not plotted or participated in any successful coups or campaigns of war.
ADDITIONAL CHARGES:
Member was witnessed apologizing to canines.
Member attempted to take control of primitive planet—Earth—and was thwarted by the lowly life-form known as “Humans.”
Member has cavorted repeatedly with both Humans and canines.
In accordance with bylaw 47U-XJ of the AWESOME charter, MEMBERSHIP IN AWESOME IS HEREBY REVOKED.
Revoked? This was an outrage! I had warlorded for longer and harder than any other despot in the universe. Yes, it was true that I’d been overthrown, but to have ever ruled a planet of cats was more impressive than leading any other species for a millennium. And I had ruled Lyttyrboks twice!
With fury burning down into my claws, I called Flooffee-Fyr.
“Oh, heyyyy, Supreme Leader. How’s it go—”
“WILL THE OUTRAGES OF EXILE NEVER END!”
“Come again?” He blinked idiotically at me.
I read him the offending message. “How could this have happened? How did they find out about my—hack hack—apology to the mutt galaxy?”
“Well, it was pretty much the most popular video in the universe,” he said. “I mean, talk about going viral.”
“And what of this ‘cavorting with ogres’? I do not cavort. I despise! I order!” I spat. “And how did they know I failed to conquer Earth?”
“I think Ffangg might have mentioned it at the last AWESOME meeting,” Flooffee said.
“Ffangg!” I hissed. “That cursed feline wretch. That miserable, squint-eyed—” I stopped. “Wait a minute. How do you know what he said at the last meeting?”
“It was in our monthly newsletter,” he said. “Ooops! I mean, um, someone told me it was in the AWESOME newsletter? Which I have absolutely never seen before.”
“Wait—you’re not—” I could hardly fathom it. “Are you a member of the club?”
Flooffee scratched the back of his ear. “Well, pretty much,” he said. “Sorry, Your Excellentness, there just hasn’t been a great time to mention it to you. I know how bummed you’ve been about not conquering Earth and all.”
“Stop with your insulting pity!” I thundered. “Does this mean that you have been invited to the warlord convention?”
“Um . . . yes.”
“But how?” I said, trying to comprehend this turn of events. “How could they invite you? A sniveling subordinate! A miserable lackey!”
“Well, I did betray you and take over Lyttyrboks, you know,” he said. “And I have to say, I’m really looking forward to the party. I hear there’s a fantastic buffet.”
As if I needed to be reminded of his betrayal! Or the buffet! “Minion, I—”
“Uh, KSH-KSH! Whoa, lot of intergalactic static! KSH-KSH! I think I’m about to lose you, O Great Master!”
The communicator screen went black.
Hiss!
CHAPTER 3
I was so excited for basketball tryouts, I could hardly pay attention through last period.
As soon as the bell rang, I raced to the gym and changed. I was super nervous, so when the coach blew the whistle to get started, I nearly jumped out of my shoes. I missed half of the midrange shots, and then we lined up to shoot three-pointers.
“Go, Raj!” Steve yelled from the bleachers.
I took a deep breath and then hoisted up the ball. Swish—it went right through the net.
And just like that, I totally caught fire. I even sank a shot from the corner that no one else made.
For the scrimmage, Coach put me in at point guard, which was my favorite position. But when I was coming up the court on my first possession, Seth Wheaton—the scariest eighth-grader in the whole school—stole the ball, knocked me to the floor, and ran right over me.
“BOOOOO!” Cedar yelled.
I recovered and made a lot of good passes after that, which is way more important than hitting shots for a point guard. But then, on the last possession, everyone was covered and I had no one to pass to. The clock was about to run out, so I launched a shot from midcourt and—
BZZZ!
—the buzzer sounded, and the ball swished through the hoop. The whole gym erupted in cheers!
Well, maybe not erupted. But there were some cheers, and they were for me. I even got a bunch of fist bumps.
“Nice shot, Banerjee,” Seth said.
I couldn’t believe it. Seth Wheaton knew my name!
When tryouts were over, I met Cedar and Steve outside in the parking lot.
“You were really good, Raj!” Cedar said.
“Yeah,” Steve said. “Who knew?”
“I think I might actually make varsity!” I said.
“I’m sure you want to bask in the glow of your amazing basketballing, Raj,” Cedar said, “but we’d better get going. It looks like we’re going to have a serious storm.”
“What are you talking about?” I said. There was barely a cloud in the sky.
“There was a huge flash of red lightning, like, two minutes ago,” Steve said. “It was over that way.”
He was pointing in the direction of my house.
A red flash? I did have to go!
CHAPTER 4
What was I to do now that I had been expelled from AWESOME? Simmer with rage? Curse my enemies? Dream up ways to make them rue the day they betrayed Wyss-Kuzz the Mighty?
As appealing as these options sounded, I decided to follow the example of Myttynz the Mrowdyr, the legendary feline warrior-king who—after having tasted defeat in the War of the Thirty-Seventh Moon—renounced the Code of the Battlecat and withdrew to a life of silence and solitude.
It was not unusual for great cats to live as hermits for a period of time. In complete and total isolation, the feline mind enters a kind of trance, and great truths are revealed.
Descending to the bunker, I entered a cardboard box that appeared perfect for seclusion. There I quieted my mind, and I began to nap more intensely than I had ever napped before. My whiskers quivered. I believed this to be a sign that I was entering a state of bliss.
But I was wrong. They were sensing a disturbance.
A barely detectable buzzing grew louder as I exited my box. I saw a small unidentified flying object floating toward me, rotating at impressive speed. Was it a spy drone? Or a weapon sent by my enemies? My ears flattened, and I sank into Defensive Crouch.
The object stopped in the middle of the room and hovered, still spinning. Then a sudden burst of light nearly blinded me, and a hologram filled the bunker.
“Hey, good buddy! It’s me!”
It couldn’t be.
And yet it was.
Barx. T
he space ranger idiot mutt. As if the day wasn’t going badly enough.
“Okay, it’s not really me, it’s my hologram. But that’s still pretty good!” The salivating fool began to wag his clumsy club of a tail.
“To what do I owe the displeasure?”
“Well, I just thought I’d stop by to see if you needed a ride to your AWESOME meeting.”
I straightened a whisker. “I’m not going,” I said. “I considered it, but then I decided that the Allied Warlords are simply not evil enough for me.”
“That’s funny,” the impudent cur said. “Because I heard that they kicked you out.”
Hiss!
“Don’t worry, buddy, because I have great news!” Barx slobbered on himself in excitement. “The real reason I’m here is to invite you to join the Good Animals Group! Woo woo!”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Klawde,” Barx said. “Why would they pick me? And it’s true, we’ve never had a cat in our club before. But you’re beloved on the dog planets now, and I bet the other animals in GAG will love you, too! Considering your high level of sincerity and how good you are at apologizing, we decided you could really bring a lot to our party.”
He could not be serious. “I will never, ever join your moronic, insipid—”
“BARX! BARX! Are you here somewhere?”
Oh, wonderful.
The boy-ogre came crashing down the stairs while Barx howled with unseemly amounts of joy.
“Raj! Raj! I missed you so much!”
“I missed you, too!”
If this disgusting display of affection lasted any longer, I would vomit up the entire contents of my stomach and quite possibly never eat again. Clearly, the bunker was not a suitable place for hermits.
CHAPTER 5
I was really excited to see Barx again, even if he was just a hologram projected out of a floating fidget spinner-y thing. He told me he’d come to deliver some exciting news to Klawde.
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