Mr. Jack Is a Maniac! (2 page)

“My name is Mr. Jack,” he finally said. “You can call me . . . Mr. Jack.”

“But your
name
is Mr. Jack,” said Ryan.

“I know,” said Mr. Jack. “That's why you should call me Mr. Jack.”

“Don't you want us to call you something
instead of
Mr. Jack?” asked Michael.

“No. Why?” asked Mr. Jack.

“When people say ‘You can call me,' that usually means we should call them something
different
from their regular name,” I told him.

“Not this time,” said Mr. Jack.

That guy is weird.

The recess bell rang, and kids came pouring out of the school.
*
They must have seen the motorcycle, because a whole bunch of them came running over and gathered around Mr. Jack. So did some of the teachers.

“Well,
hello
,” said our gym teacher, Miss Small. She was all giggly and she started fussing with her hair.

“Hi there, stranger,” said Miss Holly, our Spanish teacher. She was blushing and started fanning herself with her hand.

“New in town?” asked Ms. Hannah, our art teacher. She pulled a little mirror out of her pocket and started putting makeup on her face.

All the lady teachers were giggling and blushing and fussing with their hair and fanning themselves and looking in little mirrors. Ladies always do that stuff when they're in love. Nobody knows why. Miss Small looked like she was going to faint.

“What's your name, sugar?” asked Miss Laney, our speech teacher.

“Hello, ladies. My name is Mr. Jack. You can call me . . . Mr. Jack.”

“Well,” giggled Miss Holly, “you can call me . . . available.”

Dr. Brad pushed his way to the front so he could talk to Mr. Jack.

“I'm sorry, sir, but vut you are doing is called trespassing,” said Dr. Brad. “Zis is school property. You need to leave.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Mr. Jack. “Who's gonna
make
me?”

“Oooooooooh!”
we all said.

Anytime somebody says “Who's gonna make me?” you have to say
“Oooooooooh!”
That's the first rule of being a kid.

“I suppose
I'm
going to make you,” said Dr. Brad.

“Oh, yeah?” said Mr. Jack. “You and what army?”

“Oooooooooh!”

Anytime somebody says “You and what army?” you have to say
“Oooooooooh!”
That's the second rule of being a kid.

“I'm scared,” said Emily, who's scared of everything.

Dr. Brad was looking at Mr. Jack. Mr. Jack was looking at Dr. Brad. We were all looking at Dr. Brad and Mr. Jack. Well, the girls were pretty much just looking at Mr. Jack.

At that moment, the back door of the school opened, and a bunch of male teachers came out—Mr. Macky, Mr. Granite, Mr. Loring, Mr. Docker. Even Mr. Louie, our school crossing guard, and Mr. Tony, the after-school program director, came out. They all ran over and made a circle around Mr. Jack.

“
Zees
army!” said Dr. Brad.

“Oooooooooh!”

“Who
is
this guy?” asked Mr. Macky, our reading specialist.

“His name is Mr. Jack,” I said. “But you can call him Mr. Jack.”

“Okay, Mr. Jack,” said our science teacher, Mr. Docker. “This is school property. You can't stay here. We have you outnumbered. If you won't leave on your own, we're going to have to
make
you leave.”

“Oh, let him stay,” said Miss Holly. “He's
cute
.”

“Yeah,” said all the lady teachers. “He's cute!” Then they all started giggling.

“This is going to be
cool
,” Ryan whispered to me.

“Now zees is exactly zuh kind of situation I vus telling you children about,” said Dr. Brad. “Vee are having a little disagreement here. Ven mature adults have disagreements, zuh best vay to settle zem is to have an open and honest discussion instead of fight—”

But Dr. Brad didn't get the chance to finish his sentence. At that moment, Mr. Jack picked him up and held him in the air.

“
Eeee-yah!
” screamed Mr. Jack. Then he threw Dr. Brad across the playground!

“WOW!” we all said, which is MOM upside down.

Dr. Brad landed in the bushes. It was cool! I had no idea you could throw another person so far.

Mr. Jack jumped into a karate pose.

“I must warn the rest of you fellows,” he said, “these hands are dangerous tools. In fact, I had to have them registered with the government as weapons of mass destruction.”

Mr. Jack's hands looked just like regular hands to me. But what do I know about karate?

“We're not afraid,” said Mr. Tony. “Come on, boys. Let's
take
him!”

With that, Mr. Tony charged at Mr. Jack.

“Eeee-yah!”
screamed Mr. Jack.

He spun around fast, grabbed Mr. Tony's arms, gave him a kick in the butt, and sent him tumbling to the ground.

“I don't approve of violence on school property,” said Andrea.

“What do you have against violins?” I asked her.

“Not violins, Arlo!” Andrea shouted at me. “Violence!”

“Oh, that's different,” I said.

Mr. Tony got up, and the other male teachers came after Mr. Jack, one at a time.

Mr. Granite jumped on Mr. Jack. Mr. Jack flipped him sideways. Mr. Granite was flat on his back.

Mr. Louie tried to grab Mr. Jack's legs. Mr. Jack jumped up and landed on Mr. Louie.

“Eeee-yah!”
screamed Mr. Jack.

“Hide your eyes, Emily!” Andrea said. “This kind of behavior is definitely not appropriate for children.”

Mr. Macky and Mr. Loring charged at Mr. Jack, but Mr. Jack grabbed both of them at the same time and bonked their heads together.

“Eeee-yah!”
screamed Mr. Jack.

“Oooof!”
grunted Mr. Loring as he hit the ground with a thud.

One by one, Mr. Jack kicked all their butts. It was like watching professional wrestling on TV, but without the TV.

All the lady teachers were giggling and blushing and fussing with their hair and fanning themselves and looking at their faces in little mirrors. All the male teachers were sprawled on the ground, moaning and groaning. It was hilarious.

“I guess you fellows will think twice before messing with Mr. Jack again,” said Mr. Jack. Then he started combing his hair.

“How do I look?” he asked. “Does anybody want my autograph?”

You'll never believe in a million hundred years who came running out of the school at that moment. It was Mr. Klutz, our principal! He's like the president of the world.

Mr. Klutz has no hair at all. I mean
none
. They should put a solar panel on his head to generate electricity.

“What's going on out here?” Mr. Klutz demanded.

Nobody said a word. Everybody stepped out of the way.

Mr. Jack and Mr. Klutz were standing there, staring at each other. You could hear a pin drop.
*

“This playground ain't big enough fer the both of us, pardner,” said Mr. Jack.

“I reckon it ain't, pardner,” said Mr. Klutz.

Why were they talking like it was the Wild West? That was weird.

“I don't like the sound of this,” Andrea said.

“Me neither,” said Emily.

“I'm going to have to ask you to step outside, sir,” Mr. Klutz said.

“We're already outside,” Mr. Jack replied.

“Oh, yeah.”

Mr. Jack turned to face us.

“Should I beat this guy up too?” he asked.

“Yeah!” shouted all the boys.

“No!” shouted all the girls.

Mr. Jack took two quick steps forward and dove at Mr. Klutz's legs, knocking him down. Then he picked up Mr. Klutz and raised him high over his head.

“Help!” Mr. Klutz shouted. “Put me down!”

“Eeee-yah!”
screamed Mr. Jack.

Mr. Jack spun around a few times. Then he dropped Mr. Klutz on the ground and sat on him so he couldn't get up.

You should have been there! It was amazing!

What happened next was even
more
amazing. Mr. Jack got up and helped Mr. Klutz to his feet. They shook hands and hugged each other. Then all the male teachers came over to shake hands with Mr. Jack. So did all the lady teachers. Then
all
the teachers got in a line and took a bow, like they were in a play or something.

A few kids started clapping their hands, and then the rest of us broke into applause.

“Zank you, Zank you,” said Dr. Brad. “You all did a vunderful job.”

“Wait a minute!” I shouted. “You mean to say that wasn't a
real
fight?”

“No, of course not!” Dr. Brad replied. “At Ella Mentry School, vee don't fight. Vee settle our differences viz verds, not viz fists.”

“I felt that you kids should learn a few basic self-defense moves in case of emergency,” Mr. Klutz told us. “It's a dangerous world out there and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Everyone needs to blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. That's why I hired Mr. Jack to spend the rest of the day with us.”

“Hooray!” we all shouted.

“Any questions?” asked Mr. Jack.

“You're really good at karate,” said Michael. “Do you have a black belt?”

“Let me put it this way,” said Mr. Jack. “I
do
have a belt, and it's black.”

“Wow, he has a black belt!” I shouted.

I always wanted to take karate classes, but my parents said I had to wait until I was in fourth grade.