Party Poopers by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online

go of him!” Jennifer cried. She grabbed my right arm. “Sherman gave me a hundred dollars to go back to Bernie. And that’s what I’m going to do.”
    â€œNo, you’re not!” April-May screamed. She pulled my arm as hard as she could.
    â€œGive him to me!” Jennifer grunted. She pulled my other arm with all her strength.
    Tug-of-war time, dudes.
    Does it look like I might be in trouble here?

Chapter 21
R UINED !
    â€œDon’t fight over me, girls,” I said. “I know I’m fabulous, but give me a break here. Maybe you could share !”
    â€œNo way!” they both screamed, tugging harder. I heard my armpits crack! If something didn’t happen soon, they’d pull me apart !
    â€œListen up, everyone!” Mr. Pocketlint shouted. “Time for the annual three-legged race! Everyone outside! Line up at Pooper’s Pond!”
    Chairs scraped. Kids started to run out of the Dining Hall. I thought this might save me. But I was wrong.
    I staggered to the door with both girls pulling me from side to side. It was a clear, cool night. A silvery moon shone down, floating just above the trees.
    But I couldn’t enjoy it. The two girls wouldn’t stop their tug-of-war. My arms were already eight feet long!
    No one knows how Pooper’s Pond got its name. Maybe it’s the smell. Maybe it’s because the water is thick and lumpy.
    A narrow, wooden bridge stretches over the pond. The three-legged race starts at the bridge. I saw kids pairing up and pulling burlap bags over their middle legs.
    Belzer stood beside the bridge. He was leaning on one of my two cartons. Jennifer pulled me toward Belzer. April-May tugged me away.
    â€œBelzer, quick—” I shouted. “Get the cartons open. We’ve gotta sell, sell, SELL!”
    April-May let go of me for a moment to pick up a burlap bag. I grabbed a handful of flashlights from the carton. Jennifer started to pull a bag up over my left leg.
    â€œFlashlights!” I shouted, waving them in the air.“They’re only a dollar. How else can you see where you’re running? Flashlights, everyone!”

    April-May struggled to pull a bag up onto my right leg.
    â€œYou girls can’t do this!” I cried. “It’s not a six-legged race!” I waved the flashlights. “Only a dollar! I have change for bigger bills!” I shouted.
    The girls were tugging up the burlap bags. “Give me a break!” I said. “I’ve gotta sell this stuff!”
    â€œBernie, get away from the boxes,” Jennifer growled. “We have to race.”
    â€œNo!” April-May protested. “WE have to race.”
    â€œFlashlights!” I called. “Sweatshirts! Who’s cold? Who needs a sweatshirt?”
    â€œYou’re RUINING the race!” Jennifer cried. She let go of me, but she dove at the two cartons.
    â€œJennifer—don’t!” I cried.
    She lifted both cartons above her head—and HEAVED them over the side of the bridge—into Pooper’s Pond!

    I screamed. “That’s three months’ allowance!”
    I didn’t think. I took a deep breath, broke away from both girls—and dove into the water after my cartons.

    I hit bottom, then came floating back up, covered in muck and brown, lumpy water. “My sweatshirts! My flashlights! My MONEY!” I wailed.
    But the cartons had sunk to the bottom.

    I was RUINED.
    I slapped the thick, chunky water with both hands. Then I slapped it again.
    â€œHe’s DROWNING!” I heard Jennifer shout. “Don’t worry, Bernie. I’ll save you!”
    I saw April-May racing away, crossing the bridge—with Sherman! What a traitor!
    And then there was a huge

    Smelly, thick water washed over me. Jennifer popped up at my side. She wrapped an arm around my neck and started dragging me toward shore.
    My mouth filled with the pukey water. I started to choke.
    Jennifer grinned at me.