Stink and the Incredible Super-Galactic Jawbreaker Read Free Page B

six-foot-long stuffed-animal snake. He popped a FREE fireball in his mouth.
    “Want one?” he asked Webster.
    “You’re not allowed to eat candy in school,” said Webster. He turned the other way and stuck his nose in a book.

    “Stink? Webster? Did you hear?” asked Sophie of the Elves. “We’re having a Pajama Parade. We get to walk through all the halls. And we get to go to a special assembly in the library, where Mrs. Mack will tell stories from around the world. And she wears hats and plays drums. And I get to sit by you guys.”
    “Who cares?” said Webster.
    “What’s wrong with him?” Stink asked Sophie. Sophie just shrugged.
    WOW! PAJAMA PARADE! ASSEMBLY! Assemblies in the library were the best! Stink could not wait to hear stories from around the world (with hats and drums).
    Mrs. D.’s second-grade class paraded past the office and even down the fifth-grade hall. In the library, Stink sat beside Sophie of the Elves. Webster was right behind Stink. Mrs. D. pointed for Webster to sit down in the space right next to Stink.
    “I’m not sitting by him,” said Webster.
    “Let’s not make a mountain out of a molehill,” said Mrs. D.
    Webster sat down.
    Mrs. Mack, the librarian, held up two fingers. “Let’s show what good listeners we are at the Virginia Dare School,” said Mrs. Mack.
    “And remember,” said Mrs. D., “let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”
    Stink couldn’t stand being ignored. Especially by his best friend. As soon as Mrs. Mack started to tell a story, Stink tapped Webster on the shoulder when he wasn’t looking, just for fun.
    “Hey!” said Webster. Stink pretended to be listening to the story. Webster tapped Stink on the shoulder, then pretended his hands were in his lap. Stink tapped him back. Webster tapped him back harder. “Ow!” said Stink.
    “Stink!” whispered Mrs. D. She pointed to Stink and Webster to settle down and keep quiet.
    “You guys are in trouble!” whispered Sophie of the Elves.
    “Now,” said Mrs. Mack, “we’re going to turn down the lights and travel to deepest Africa. I hope you like scary stories!”
    The lights went out. Stink glowed like a night-light! Mrs. D. would sure see him now if he tapped Webster again. Stink pulled both of his arms all the way inside his pajama shirt, just to be safe. He did not want his tapping fingers to get him into any more trouble.

    Drumbeats filled the air. Mrs. Mack made her voice low and whispery. The folktale was all about The Bad One, this spooky voice coming from inside a cave. The voice sounded so big and bad he was scaring the pants off all the other animals in the rain forest. At the end, The Bad One turned out to be nothing but a centipede. Phew! A South African red-legged centipede!
    Stink knew all about centipedes. “Once, in the Toad Pee Club with my sister,” he told Webster, “we tried to set a record for the longest human centipede.”
    “So?” said Webster.
    Stink forgot all about paying attention. Something was wrong with Webster. He tried to make up a centipede joke to tell Webster.
    “What goes ninety-nine clunk?” Stink asked Webster. “Or thirty-three clunk? Or sixty-seven clunk?” Webster ignored him. “A centipede with a broken leg!” Stink cracked up. He flashed his fireball-red tongue at Webster. Webster did not even crack a smile.
    Mrs. Mack was asking, “How many legs does a centipede have?” Stink knew the answer. He went to raise his hand, but his arms were still inside his pajama shirt.
    “One hundred!” said a first grader in the front row.
    Stink knew one hundred was not the whole answer. He just had to raise his hand. He tried to raise an elbow from inside his shirt.
    Something was wrong. Very wrong. Something had happened to Stink’s pajama top. It shrink-shrank-shrunk! Stink wiggled and wriggled and tried to worm his way out of the shirt. Help! Where were the armholes? It was still dark. He couldn’t see a thing. His shirt was all twisted. His arms were