Brain That Wouldn't Obey! (5 page)

“Stampede!” screamed Liz.

“Potato stampede!” screamed Mike.

11

The Last (Vegetable) Stand!

“R
mmmmm! Rmmmmm!”
The potatoes charged forward, their teeth snapping and clacking.

At that moment, something caught Mike's eye. Rolling out from under the driver's seat was a little crumpled ball of paper.

Mike reached for it. “Yes!” he grinned. It was a greasy, dirty, stained Jolly Meal french fry bag! Just like the one he'd slipped on that morning.

Mike held it up to show Liz.

Liz made a face. “I know you're hungry, but—”

“Watch this!” Mike thrust the bag right into the faces of the attacking spuds. “French fries!”

“Eeeee!”
the dusty potatoes stopped rolling and jerked away in fear.

“Think you're clever, human boy?” snarled the king of the spuds. He jammed one of his leafy legs down on the gas pedal.

ROAR!
The bus shot straight down Main Street toward the desert.

Mike slammed against the front seat. “Liz, he's going for the open road! For the highway! For Washington, DC, the capital of our country! The President! The Congress! The Supreme—”

“I know, I know, I know!” shrieked Liz, kicking some smaller potatoes to the back of the bus.

“Here!” Mike gave her the french fry bag. She waved it at the spudlets as Mike jumped up and grabbed the large wheel.

“Get off me, two eyes!” cried King Spud. The vegetable's giant brain heaved and twitched.

“Got … to … stop … you!” Mike gasped as he spun the wheel hard and swatted the leafy sprouts. The blubbery potato nearly swallowed him up.

Errrrrck!
The bus wound around in a tight circle, crashed through the gate of the Plan Nine Drive-in and bounced into the parking lot.

The sign over the ticket booth read,
Attack of the Very Big Kitchen Utensils!

Mr. Vickers the movie director came running out of the ticket booth. He carried a giant movie prop in the shape of a fork.

“Oh, trying to check if I'm
done?”
screeched King Spud. “Well, I'm not
done
yet!” He pushed Mike away and spun the wheel sharply.

“Now, there's a big potato!” Mr. Vickers cried, leaping out of the way. “Hey, wait. Can you act?”

“Sure, I can act,” King Spud screamed out. “I can act crazy!” He pushed Mike away and sped out of the parking lot and back up Main Street.

The bus took a sharp left back onto School Road.

CRASH!
It leaped the sidewalk and mangled the W. Reid Elementary School flagpole into a pretzel. The bus stopped dead.

“Destroy that school once and for all!” shouted King Spud to his angry army.

Mike and Liz leaped from the bus and ran, a horde of toothy spudlets hot on their heels.

Inside the school, the two kids tore down the hall and turned the corner. They slid to a stop.

Out of the shadows in front of them stepped Jeff, Sean, and Holly. Their eyes were all glassy. They blocked the way and stumbled forward.

“Okay, Liz,” mumbled Mike, backing away. “I know this is sort of my fault. But I'd be happy for some suggestions right about now. Got any?”

Liz glanced around. Behind them was the door to the nurse's office. Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “Actually, I do!” She pulled Mike into the nurse's office and began searching around.

The three potato-brained kids blocked the door and started to close in. “Knock-knock,” droned Sean. “Any humans here to attack?”

Liz whirled around, smiling. She held up a handful of fluffy white cotton balls in her hands.

“Okay,” murmured Mike, “but you'll have to throw those really hard to stop these guys.”

Liz pushed Mike behind her and in a flash she pulled the cotton balls apart and stuffed little bits into the six ears of her three potato-brained friends.

The three potato-brains stopped their attack.

“Hey, I can't hear,” said Sean. “But I feel pretty good about it.”

“Me, too,” said Holly. “Cool!”

“What happened to that weird sound?” Jeff asked. “I was sort of getting used to it.”

“Long story,” said Mike, dashing out into the hall and starting for the main office. “Now, come on!” he shouted so they could hear. “I have a plan, but we have to hurry!”

Mike knew what he had to do. He took a right off the main hall and raced into the main office.

Mr. Bell was sitting alone in the inner office, scribbling pictures of potatoes with crowns on them. “Yes, wonderful master! Of course, oh, large-brained leader!”

Mike stepped quietly over to the PA system in the outer office. The announcement microphone stood on the counter next to the control box.

Next to it was a tape player.

“We've got to break those bad sound waves that everybody is hearing,” Mike whispered to his friends. “It's the only way to free them from Spud's mind control!”

“Hurry,” said Liz. “They're getting closer.”

Mike read the name of the tape in the player.
“Classic Food Songs of the Great Crooners?”
He made a face. “Is this all there is?”

“Play it, Mike,” Liz urged. “Play it loud!”

Mike moved the PA microphone over to the tape player and hit the play button. Instantly, trombones and saxophones roared into the PA.

And a singer began to sing.

When the moon hits your toe

Like a big po-ta-to—it's so sore, eh?

Mr. Bell jumped from his desk. “Miss Lieberman, may I have the next dance—Hey, owww!”

The principal slapped his hands over his ears and gave a pained look. Suddenly, he frowned. “That high-pitched sound!” he said. “It's gone!”

“Come, sir,” said Mike, respectfully. “We've got a school to defend!”

“Quite right!” the principal agreed. “Let's go!”

But when they jumped out into the hall, the hall was filled with mad potatoes.

Hopping mad potatoes!

“Ahem!” boomed Mr. Bell. “They're here.”

King Spud waddled up through the crowd. His bulging brain nearly skimmed the ceiling.

The PA blared out.

French fries, shining on me!

Nothing but french fries, do I see!

Spud's big brain rippled and twitched in rage. “Turn that hideous music down now!” he cried, thrusting his leafy sprouts at the humans. His brain nearly popped. It bulged, it throbbed.

“I don't think so,” said Mike, standing firm.

“We don't think so, either,” said Liz, standing with Jeff, Sean, and Holly.

“Quite right,” said Principal Bell. “I, as well.”

“So, my supersonic brain-control waves don't work, eh?” King Spud said. “Okay, then, no more Mr. Nice Potato! We'll just eat you! How's that for a switch? Potatoes eat people!”

The big brain turned purple with anger.

Mike's own brain started to twitch and get mad. “I've only been in this school for a little while. I know it's way weird, but I'm not going to let it be taken over by a blubbery vegetable!”

Mike stepped forward. “King Spud, your brain wave days are over!”

“Never!” the potato leader cried out. “Bite them, spudlets! Bite them all up!”

12

Weird (Zone) Science

“G
ET THEM NOW!” King Spud screamed, and his little potatoes leaped at the humans, their sharp teeth chomping as they hurled themselves at sneakers and ankles.

“Food fight!” yelled Mike, tearing a spudlet from his pants leg and hurling it screaming across the hall.

Suddenly—
Wham!
The science door banged open and Rock Storm charged over with a microphone. “How about you kids fight, and I do a play-by-play for our radio audience?”

Liz shot a look at Mike. “That's help?” Then she swung around and drop-kicked a handful of potatoes from the water fountain.

“And they're off!” said Rock Storm. “A squad of spunky students is battling down the main hall, while a horde of hungry vegetables attacks them at every turn!”

But the W. Reid Elementary School kids and teachers fought back while the PA played on!

I've got cheese—under my skin!

Mike and Liz dashed for the corner of Bwing to head off a bunch of angry spuds who charged out of the art room with war paint on.

Suddenly—
Whack! Splat! Whack! Splat!

Brown lumps smashed on the far wall and slumped to the floor. The little spuds lay still.

“Hey,” said Mike. “Looks like we've got some major backup.” They turned the corner.

Mrs. Carbonese was tossing up spuds and whacking them against the wall with a broom. “I just don't like the look of them,” she said.

Whack! Splat!

“I have to say it,” cried Liz. “What a school!”

Mike nodded proudly. “The W. Reid spirit!”

But King Spud called his troops together and they drove the humans into the gym. Science project tables crashed to pieces as the vegetable army attacked.

“The final battle!” cried King Spud, his brain reaching almost as high as the basketball hoops.

Liz pulled Mike back through the tables. “We'd better think of something, and quick! Potadio just keeps getting bigger and bigger!”

As King Spud laughed a horrible laugh, his giant brain buzzed and shot sparks into the air.

“That's it!” Mike cried. “Electricity! King Spud is an amazing, giant, powerful battery. He's full of electric power. Probably thousands of volts!”

“Yeah, so?” said Liz, kicking some spuds away from her ankles. They scurried off.

“I read all about electricity for my project,” said Mike. “I nearly shorted out the whole neighborhood. Maybe we can short out King Spud! Now if only we had—”

Then Mike spotted something. “Jeff's Gizmo!” He and Liz fought their way over to the strange machine. “Remember when Jeff ran this? The whole school went black. It's perfect!” In a matter of seconds, Mike had formed a plan. He explained it to Liz.

“That sounds like one of my weird plans,” said Liz. Then she smiled. “I like it. It just might work.”

Mike grabbed the Gizmo's electrical cord. He looked up. “Hey, King Dud!”

The fat potato leader turned angrily. He squeezed between the tables toward Mike. “We could have been a great team, kid. But no, you didn't want to be a potato. So now I have to destroy you. Start thinking of your last words, skinny!”

Mike stood his ground, hiding the cord behind him. The blubbery potato waddled closer.

Then, from across the room, came Liz's call. “Hey, Brainiac!” She roared toward King Spud on her Motorboard. “Here I come!”

The giant potato turned. A look of horror crossed his wrinkled face as he saw Liz tearing between the tables right for him.

“No!” King Spud cried out. He tried to get out of the way, but he was so blubbery he couldn't move fast enough. His brain sparked in anger!

POOOMF!
Liz slammed against the giant vegetable. He wobbled. He teetered. He tottered.

At that instant, Mike dived forward and thrust the Gizmo cord right into the king-size potato!

ZZZZ! KRRR! NNNN!
Jeff…s do-nothing Gizmo finally did something!

Sparks exploded everywhere! Giant zig-zag bolts of electricity blasted from King Spud across the gym to all the little spuds—they all hopped and sizzled!

“I'm frying!” shrieked the potato king.

KA—BLAMMMMMM!

The ceiling lights crackled and popped! The school went dark. The music stopped.

Everything was quiet.

THWUMP!
The giant potato hit the ground.

“And the big brain goes down!” Sean whooped.

“Oh!” gasped Holly. “The smell!”

“Like a Jumbo Jolly Meal with Extra Double-Fried Fries!” Jeff called out.

The battle was over. A towering pile of toasted spuds lay all around their fallen leader. Mike, Liz, Holly, Sean, and Jeff stepped over to the giant shape.

King Spud groaned. He tried to speak. As Mike leaned over to hear, he remembered how he had done the same thing earlier that day.

“Oh, the horror of it all!” King Spud sputtered. “But hear me now. I vow, the potato kingdom will rise again!”

The dusty brown lips quivered and fell silent.

All his eyes closed at once.

Rock Storm stuck his microphone in Mike's face. “Well, son,” he boomed. “In a word, what do you think made the big potato brain go bad?”

Mike thought about that for a while. “I only know one thing. Even potatoes are too complicated to be understood by just a couple of words.”

“Birds?” said Mrs. Carbonese.

“Ahem!” boomed Principal Bell.

“My floor!” shrieked Mr. Sweeney.

“How's my hair?” asked Rock Storm.

For a long time the five friends just nodded at the big wide truth of it all.

“Oh, no!” shrieked Liz, pointing to the door.

Everyone whirled around to see Miss Lieberman taping a sheet of paper to the wall.

Liz read it. “Next week's menu. Potato soup. Potato pie. Potato salad. Potato skins. Potato chips. Potato burgers. Po-tato cubes. Potatoes with cheese. Potatoes without cheese. Potato butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“King Spud was right,” said Holly. “Potatoes will rise again. And again and again and again.”

Sean turned to Liz. “By the way, thanks for the cotton ball thing.” He yanked the fluffy white puffs from his ears just as—

Brrrrring!
—the dismissal bell rang.

“Ah, my favorite sound,” said Sean. “School's over!”

Bong!
went the giant donut clock on the top of the Double Dunk Donut Den.

Sssss!
went the giant pan on the top of Usher's House of Pancakes.

“And those are my favorite sounds,” said Mike, striding out through the school doors to the sidewalk in front. “Anybody hungry?”