Stink and the Incredible Super-Galactic Jawbreaker (7 page)

“Stink hit his friend Webster today!” said Judy. “At the library assembly. It was all over school. He got in way-big trouble and the teacher took him out and yelled at him up and down and the whole school saw and—”

“That’s enough, Judy,” said Dad.

“It wasn’t my fault,” said Stink. “It was my pajamas’ fault!” Stink told Mom and Dad what happened. “I’m going to write a letter to the pajama people and tell them their pajamas got me in big trouble
and
made me lose my best friend,” said Stink.

“No more letters!” said Judy.

“No more letters,” said Mom.

“Well, maybe one more,” said Dad. “How about a letter of apology to your friend Webster?”

Stink went upstairs. He hid the troublemaker PJs in the way-back of his bottom dresser drawer, where the pinchy underwear, socks with holes, and the too-baby I
TRUCKS pajamas from last year were.

Then Stink worked on the letter as if it was homework.

Stink searched around his desk for an envelope. He would put the letter on Webster’s desk tomorrow. Hello! What was this? Under a pile of jawbreakers, Stink found an envelope. Not an empty envelope. A messy-handwriting envelope addressed to Stink Moody. As in him!

All of a sudden Stink remembered getting the messy-writing letter. But he’d been too busy counting his jawbreakers to even open it! He ripped it open now.

YOU ARE INVITED said the card. It was spelled out in balloons held by gorillas. The card was from Webster. It was for his birthday party. And his birthday party was Saturday. LAST Saturday.

Stink had missed Webster’s birthday!

Now he knew why Webster was such a grump. Stink felt like a heel. No, he felt like 177 pairs of heels. Worse than a broken-legged centipede. Stink felt like a stinkbug.

He had to think of some way to make it up to Webster. They just had to be friends again. Had to!

Stink thought and thought. He petted Mouse. He petted Toady. He scratched his head a lot. Scratching your head was supposed to help you think, right? All it did was make him look like he had fleas.

At last, Stink got an idea. He went downstairs to get Dad in on his idea. Then he finished the letter to Webster.

Stink got to school early and slipped the letter inside Webster’s desk. He watched Webster read it. Webster looked up. He looked over at Stink. “You mean you didn’t miss my birthday on purpose?”

“No way,” said Stink. “Just like I didn’t sucker-punch you on purpose. You gotta believe me.”

Webster grinned from ear to ear.

“Friends?” asked Stink.

“Friends,” said Webster. “So what’s the big surprise, huh? What’s C.G.? C’mon! Tell me! I can’t wait!”

“My lips are sealed,” said Stink, zippering his lips.

“Does it stand for
Card Game
?” asked Webster.

“Cinderella’s Glass slipper?”
asked Sophie of the Elves.

“Cucumbers and Grapes?”
asked Webster.
“Crazy Glue?”

“No, no, and nope,” said Stink. “You just have to wait. My dad’s bringing it. But Mrs. D. said not until the end of the day.”

Waiting was harder than writing letters. Harder than punctuation. Harder than spelling
sincerely.

At the end of the day, Mrs. D. read eleven pages from Sophie of the Elves’ favorite chapter book about a brave mouse and an evil rat.

Finally! At last! An announcement over the PA system.

“Special Delivery for Class 2D! Stink Moody to the front office!”

“Wow! Cool! Hey! What? Huh?” everybody buzzed.

Stink walked-not-ran down to the office and came back to class with Dad, a rainbow-bright rooster piñata, and 21,280 jawbreakers. Not to mention all sorts of candy bars, microbots, and monkey pencils.

“Candy-Gram!” Stink announced. “I repeat. Candy-Gram for Webster Gomez.”

Webster was already at the door. He had never ever seen so much candy in his whole entire life. “For me? WOWEE!”

“To celebrate your birthday,” said Stink. “With the whole class!”

“Piñata party!” everybody was saying.

“A Candy-Gram!” said Sophie of the Elves. “
C.G.
is for
Candy-Gram
!”

“I never got a Candy-Gram before. It’s like a telegram, only better.”

“Where’d you get all the candy and stuff?” asked Sophie.

“I got it FREE. Sort of by mistake on purpose.”

Dad and Mrs. D. filled the piñata with candy and goodies. Dad got to stand on the teacher’s desk! He hung the piñata from the ceiling.

“Who wants to go first?” asked Dad, pointing to the bright red rooster.

“Webster!” called Stink.

Dad asked Webster to close his eyes and handed him the stick. “Stand back, everybody,” Dad called.

“On the count of three!” said Mrs. D.

Webster swung the stick. It sliced the air, this way and that.
Whoosh! Swoosh!

“Go, Webster, go!” everybody yelled. “Over this way. You’re getting warm!”

Bam!
Webster finally hit the piñata! Nothing. Class 2D was super-quiet.

“Let’s try again — in French,” said Mrs. D. “
Un, deux, trois . . .
”
Bam!
Webster hit the piñata again! Still nothing.

“That rooster doesn’t want to crow,” said Dad.

“I’ll help!” called Stink. “Let’s swing the stick together.”