New Kid Catastrophes: 1 (TJ and the Time Stumblers) (6 page)

This must have frightened Tall Dude because he answered with an equally brave and courageous

“What is she screaming at?!” Chunky Guy cried.

“Aliens!” TJ screamed. “I see aliens!”

“Where?!” Tall Dude shouted, looking around in fear.

TJ screamed.

Tall Dude screamed.

And not wanting to be left out, Chunky Guy joined in the chorus:

“TJ?” Dad called from the bottom of the stairs. “TJ, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“Quickly,” Chunky Guy shouted, “the morphing device!”

“Got it!” Tall Dude cried. He pulled out a large, red object that looked like a Swiss Army Knife and immediately dropped it.

“Oh, brother,” Chunky Guy sighed. “Open the Morphing Blade; open the Morphing Blade!”

“TJ?” Dad started up the stairs.

Tall Dude picked up the knife, opened a special blade, and

turned himself into Abraham Lincoln (complete with that cool hat, though the beard looked a little fake).

“No,” Chunky Guy cried, “morph into her; morph into her!”

“I’m trying, dude!” He opened another blade and

turned himself into the Tin Man from
The Wizard of Oz
.

“No, no, no!” Chunky Guy yelled.

“It’s shorting out!” Tall Dude cried. He tried again and

turned himself into the Beatles. All four of them!

They were just getting ready to play “Yellow Submarine” when suddenly

TJ was standing in front of herself. Well, at least someone who looked an awful lot like TJ was standing in front of herself.

“TJ?” Dad was halfway up the steps, almost in sight.

“And her!” Chunky Guy shouted. “Morph her! Morph her!”

The fake TJ opened another blade, and

the real TJ was turned into (hang on, this is going to get weird) . . . a floor lamp.

(Hey, I warned you.)

Of course, she wanted to scream,
“A floor lamp?! What am I doing as a floor lamp?!”
But she couldn’t. Apparently floor lamps don’t have mouths to scream with. (They do, however, have very attractive shades with cute little tassels along the bottom, not to mention nifty three-way switches.)

Meanwhile, Chunky Guy raced to the giant floating egg, pushed it through the nearby bathroom door, and hid with it out of sight . . . just as Dad arrived.

“TJ?” Dad asked the fake TJ. “What’s all the screaming about?”

“I’m sorry,” Fake TJ said in a high-pitched voice. “I was just practicing for the talent show.”

“Talent show?” Dad asked.

“Yes, I’m trying out.”

“Well, that’s great. I’m glad you’re working to fit in.”

“Thanks,” Fake TJ said, his voice cracking slightly.

Dad tilted his head. “Are you okay? You sound strange.”

“Oh, that.” Fake TJ coughed slightly. “I might be coming down with a cold.”

“Well, go to bed early tonight,” Dad said. “I don’t want you getting sick before your big audition.”

“Good idea. Thanks.”

He gave a nod and headed back down the steps. Only then did he notice the real TJ (who was now a floor lamp standing next to the wall). “Where’d you get that lamp?”

“Oh, that.” Fake TJ pretended to giggle. “I found it in my closet. Can I keep it?”

He scowled. “I don’t know. It’s pretty ugly.”

Hey
, Real TJ thought
, even us floor lamps have feelings!

“Please?” Fake TJ begged. “I know just the place for it.”

Dad hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure, it’s your room. Why not?”

“Great.” Fake TJ beamed.

Dad nodded and headed for the stairs. “I love you, TJ.”

“I love you too, Poppsy,” Fake TJ said.

Poppsy?
Real TJ thought.
What person on earth calls their dad Poppsy?
(Then she remembered Fake TJ wasn’t exactly a person from earth.)

Dad shook his head in amusement and continued down the steps.

As soon as the coast was clear, Fake TJ pulled out another blade from his Swiss Army Knife and

morphed back into his tall, surfer self.

“That was close,” Chunky Guy said as he came back into the room.

“Fur sure,” Tall Dude agreed. Then, turning to the floor lamp, he said, “I don’t know how you can see us. Must be something majorly zworked with our cloaking device. But if we turn you back into you, do you promise not to scream again?”

TJ tried to answer but ran into the same
I can’t talk without a mouth
problem.