Dunc and Amos Meet the Slasher Read Free Page A

doors in front of him.
    As he walked away, something fell off of Slasher’s jacket and rolled under the table. Dunc reached down and picked it up.
    A shiny silver bead.
    Dunc stuffed it into his pocket.
    Slasher and his gang had taken over the far corner of the cafeteria. Amos and Dunc could see him from across the room talking and pointing toward them. In a few minutes whatever they were talking about was settled and he started walking back their way.
    “Dunc, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
    “We’ll be fine. This may be just the break we need. Trust me.”
    “You always say that. Things never work out when you say that.”
    “Quit worrying. Underneath, they’re probably regular guys like everybody else.”
    Slasher moved to Amos. “The brotherhood says you can come.”
    Dunc got up to follow.
    Slasher put his hand on Dunc’s chest. “Not you, Brain.”
    Amos had the look of a trapped rabbit. He glanced over his shoulder at Dunc.
    Dunc motioned for him to go on.
    Amos decided to be cool or die trying. He moved his hands up and down as if he were pushing air. He shuffled his feet.
    When they got to the corner of the cafeteria, he was really into the part. He bobbed his head up and down. “I’m bad. I’m mean. I’m—”
    Amos stepped on his shoestring and did a flip over the table, cracking his head on the floor. Finally his vision cleared and he stood up.
    “…  tough. I’m cool.”
    “How’d you do that, man?” A short kid with his name shaved into one side of his hair stepped over to him.
    Amos swallowed hard. “That? That was nothing. I do stuff like that all the time.”
    The kid put his thumb in the air. “I pronounce this dude awesome.”
    Slasher pounded him on the back. “See, I told you guys he’d do. What’s your name, man?”
    Amos bit his lip. “Name?”
    “Yeah, you know.” He pointed at some ofthe gang. “This here is Hammer, Crusher, Spit, and Claw.”
    Amos tried to think. In the toughest voice he could manage, he said, “Dirt Bag. My name is Dirt Bag. Dirt for short.”

“Dirt Bag? Couldn’t you have done better than Dirt Bag?” Dunc asked.
    Amos shrugged. “I was on the spot. It’s what Amy calls me, and it just popped into my head. But that’s not why I called you over here.”
    “I know why you called me. Today is Saturday. Your dad said we better have that plywood stacked neatly in the garage by Saturday or else.”
    Amos pointed at his desk. “Wrong. Take a look at that stack of books over there.”
    “I don’t see any books.”
    Amos moved a broken model, a halfeaten pepperoni pizza, a T-shirt, and a pair of jeans. “Now look.”
    “Okay. You have a stack of books on your desk. Am I supposed to be impressed?”
    “That stack of books is why I called you over here. I heed to discuss one tiny little flaw in your big plan for me to be friends with Slasher.”
    Dunc sat on the edge of the dresser. “I don’t understand. I thought everything was going great between you two.”
    “Oh, everything is just fine—as long as I have his homework ready for him on Monday.”
    “Are you serious?”
    Amos nodded his head. “As a heart attack. He also wants me to carry his books to and from school, polish his bike, and get his lunch, and do anything else his twisted mind can come up with.”
    “Amos, you can’t do someone else’s homework. It’s not ethical.”
    Amos stared at him for a few minutes. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say? No … ‘I’m sorry,’ or, ‘My plan was really stupid’ … or anything?”
    “At this point, I don’t think my saying I’m sorry would help your situation.”
    “No. But it might help yours. Because if you don’t say it—”
    Dunc held up his hand. “Okay. If it makes you happy, I am willing to acknowledge that my stratagem did not incorporate an emergency contingency for this specific development.”
    Amos looked at him suspiciously. “Is that the same as saying you messed