Doctor Proctor's Fart Powder by Jo Nesbø, mike lowery Read Free Book Online Page B

had sent him up in the first place. Becausealthough the fart was no longer howling like a pack of wolves and was now just a tame sputtering, it was still going. And remember that when I say sputtering, that’s compared to an enormous bang and not compared to one of your farts. Because even if you’ve been eating unripe apples and think you just farted the loudest fart anyone has ever farted, it would be considered a gentle breeze compared to the tamest sputtering caused by Doctor Proctor’s Fart Powder. Once Nilly had thought about all this, he swung himself quickly back into the sitting position he’d been in when he’d flown up. And once the seat of his pants, with the open Velcro flap, was pointed straight at the ground, to his relief he immediately started slowing down, thanks to the air pressure of the fart. But he also knew that the fart was going to be over soon and there was still a ways to go until he was back on the ground. Nilly tried as hard as he could to keep it going, because even a twenty-five-foot fall is very high for such asmall boy. And that’s exactly how high he was above the ground when the fart finally came to an end.
    â€œNILLY!” LISA YELLED.
    â€œNilly!” Doctor Proctor yelled. They were still looking around for him like crazy.
    â€œDo you think the powder exploded him into smithereens?” Lisa asked.
    â€œIf so, the pieces must be so small that we can’t see them,” Doctor Proctor said, adjusting his motorcycle glasses and studying the ground where Nilly had been standing when the fart happened. All of the grass was torn up and there was a little pit there.
    â€œWe’re never going to see him again,” Lisa said. “And it’s my fault. I should’ve noticed that he was holding the tablespoon.”
    â€œNo, no. It’s my fault,” Doctor Proctor said, getting up again. “I should never have tinkered with the formula.”
    â€œNilly!” Lisa yelled.
    â€œNilly!” Doctor Proctor yelled.
    â€œWhat’s all the commotion?” someone complained from over by the fence along the road. “And what are you doing here, Lisa? Dinner’s on the table.”
    It was Lisa’s father, the Commandant. He looked gruff.
    Doctor Proctor stood up. “My good sir, the whole situation is hopeless—,” he started, but was interrupted by a voice barking from behind the fence at Nilly’s house.
    â€œWhat’s all the commotion?” It was Nilly’s mother. She looked mad. “Dinner’s on the table. Has anyone seen Nilly?”
    Doctor Proctor turned to face her. “My good ma’am, the whole situation is hopeless. You see, your son, Nilly, he … he …”
    Then Doctor Proctor was interrupted for the third time, and this time by a high-pitched boy’svoice that came from above: “He’s sitting up here wondering what’s for dinner.”
    All four of them looked up. And there, on top of Doctor Proctor’s roof, stood Nilly with his arms crossed, wearing a hockey helmet, knee pads, and leather pants with the bottom flapping around.
    â€œDon’t move,” called Professor Proctor, running into the cellar.
    â€œWhat in the world are you doing up there, Nilly?” his mother squealed.
    â€œPlaying hide-and-seek obviously,” Nilly said. “What’s for dinner?”
    â€œMeatballs,” Nilly’s mother said to Nilly.
    â€œFish au gratin,” Lisa’s father told Lisa.
    â€œYippee!” said Nilly.
    â€œYippee!” said Lisa.
    â€œYou guys can go back to playing after dinner,” Lisa’s father growled.
    â€œBut not up there,” Nilly’s mother said. “Get down here right now.”
    â€œYes, Mom,” Nilly said.
    The professor came running back out of the cellar with a ladder that he immediately leaned up against the wall of his house so that it was resting against the gutter. Nilly crawled