New Kid Catastrophes: 1 (TJ and the Time Stumblers) (9 page)

heard it. That’s right, Hesper was still talking away. And as he drifted off to sleep, Chad wondered which would run out of energy first. His cell phone battery or

Hesper Breakahart.

Actually, it hadn’t been too hard for the guys to save Chad. All they had to do was find the right blade to Freeze-Frame time, scoop Chad out of the water, and put him in his bed . . . while everyone else stood around frozen like statues.

(Well, everyone but TJ, since lamps are pretty much like statues anyway.)

It also wasn’t hard turning TJ back into a real person. Well, except that the morphing device was still on the fritz.

No problem if you don’t mind little inconveniences like first being turned into the

toenail clipping of a giant elephant (and you thought a fish in the toilet bowl was gross). Or a

half-used tube of toothpaste (squeezed in the middle, of course). And finally a

humpback whale.

Anyway, once TJ was finally back to normal (except for the handful of barnacles they had to scrape off her back), she’d looked at Tuna and Herby, and in her most gentle voice . . . screamed her lungs out.

“THIS IS NUTS! I DON’T WANT TO BE IN YOUR STUPID HISTORY PROJECT!”

“Shh.” Herby motioned for her to be quiet.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, SHH?!”

“By yelling, you will awaken your family,” Tuna warned.

“I’LL YELL IF I WANT TO YELL!”

“Well, all right, then,” Tuna said, pulling out the Swiss Army Knife and opening a new blade.

“NOW WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP IT! DON’T YOU DARE POINT THAT THING AT—”

“—me. Wait a minute. My voice. What have you done to my voice!?”

“I have simply reduced your volume.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid I have no choice.”

“All right, all right, I’ll talk softer!”

“Do I have your word?”

“Yes, yes!”

And so, after another

TJ returned to her normal volume . . . and the three of them had a very long talk, late into the night.

First of all, TJ made it clear that she was flattered to be somebody’s history project, but she was definitely not interested in being “observed.”

“Oh, we have very strict rules in the matter,” Tuna explained.

“That’s right, Your Dude-ness. There’s absolutely no gawking at you when you’re asleep or changing clothes or—”

“Look, I appreciate that, but you have to understand I’m having a hard enough time just fitting in at school.”

“That’s why we’ve been, like, helping,” Herby said.

Tuna shot him a look, but it was too late.

“Helping?” TJ asked suspiciously. “What do you mean . . .
helping
?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Herby said modestly. “Maybe like making dodgeballs do U-turns in midair.”

“That was you?” TJ cried.

“Or sending dictionaries flying across the room to knock out handsome lab partners.”

“You did that?!”

“He’s really not your type, you know,” Tuna said.

“That’s right,” Herby agreed. “Especially with super-intelligent, good-looking 23rd century dudes like us who just happen to be hanging around.”

TJ could only stare at him.

Herby could only grin back (and maybe hold in his stomach a little).

Finally TJ shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.” She began pacing the room. “No way. Definitely not.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No.”

“We could—”

“Forget it.”

“But—”

“No way.”

After a dozen more
but
s and a hundred more
no way
s, the boys finally gave in.

“Well . . . all right, then,” Tuna said sadly. “If that’s your final word, we shall depart.”

TJ folded her arms. “It’s my final word.”

Tuna nodded. “Just as soon as we fuel up our time-travel pod, we’ll be on our way.”

TJ started to relax. “Great. There’s a gas station just down the street.”

“Actually,” Herby corrected, “we don’t exactly use gasoline.”

“Oh.” TJ started to unrelax. “What exactly do you use?”

The boys traded nervous looks.

TJ’s unrelaxedness grew even more unrelaxed.

Tuna swallowed and answered, “We will need a nuclear submarine plutonium power pack.”

“A nuclear submarine plutonium power pack?!”

“Shh . . .,” Tuna said, reaching for the Swiss Army Knife.

TJ immediately lowered her voice. “Where do you get that?”

“From one of your top-secret nuclear-powered submarines.”

“TOP-SECRET NUCLEAR-POWERED SUBMARINES?!”

Tuna opened the Volume Control Blade.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” TJ whispered. “But don’t you think that might be just a teensy bit difficult?”

“Actually,” Herby said, “it will be nearly impossible.”

—
sible?
” TJ cried.

Tuna answered. “
Nearly
impossible is not the same as
completely
impossible.”

“That’s right,” Herby said. “It’s the other thing that’s
completely
impossible.”

“
Other thing?
” TJ asked.

“Yeah.”

“
Which is?
” TJ expected the worst.

“Which is like this totally outloopish chili recipe invented by a Texas housewife.”

“That’s correct,” Tuna said. “In 50 years it will be discovered to be the most powerful fuel known to mankind.”

“Why is getting a chili recipe so hard?”
TJ asked.

Once again the boys traded looks.

“Guys?”
TJ repeated.
“What’s so hard about getting a chili recipe?”

Tuna answered, “Because at the moment that housewife is only two and a half years old.”

TJ’s heart sank.

“And don’t forget the chili, dude,” Herby said. “It only works after it’s been digested by a flock of ostriches from Africa.”

“That goes without saying,” Tuna said.

TJ could only shake her head, wishing they hadn’t said what they said went without saying when they said it.

TRANSLATION:
This was definitely not one of her better days.

CHAPTER SIX

Another Day,
Another Catastrophe