Free Mrs. Kormel Is Not Normal! by Dan Gutman Page A

stopped the bus at the next corner, and a few other kids got on. At the stop after that, my friends Ryan and Michael got on.
    â€œBingle boo!” Mrs. Kormel said to Ryan and Michael. “Limpus kidoodle.”
    Ryan and Michael sat down next to me.
    â€œWhat did you bring in for Show and Share?” Ryan asked. “I brought in an old light switch.”
    â€œI brought in a ball of string,” said Michael.
    Show and Share is when we bring something from home that starts with a certain letter of the alphabet and talk about it in class. Today’s letter was s .
    I took my Show and Share thing out of my backpack. It was an action figure called Striker Smith. He’s a superhero from the future who travels through time and fights bad guys with a sharp sword that’s attached to his hand. He can turn into a jet plane, too, and fly when you push a button. I saw a commercial for Striker Smith on TV and bugged my parents until they finally got it for me.

    â€œStriker Smith belongs to a secret organization of crime fighters,” I told Ryan and Michael, in case they didn’t see the commercial.
    â€œYou should get extra credit,” Ryan said, “because Striker Smith has two S ’s.”
    â€œHe’s cool,” said Michael. “Sometimes I take my old action figures down to the basement and my dad lets me saw themin half or torture them with his power drill.”
    â€œI take mine out in the sun and melt their faces with a magnifying glass,” said Ryan.
    Michael and Ryan are weird.
    At the next stop, this really annoying girl in my class named Andrea who thinks she knows everything got on the bus with curly brown hair. Well, the bus didn’t have curly brown hair. Andrea did.
    â€œBingle boo, Andrea!” said Mrs. Kormel.
    â€œBingle boo,” Andrea said. “I’ll go limpus kidoodle now.”
    What a brownnoser! Andrea plopped her dumb self down in the seat right in front of me, like always.
    â€œGood morning, Arlo,” she said.
    I hate her.
    Andrea’s mother found out that A.J. stands for Arlo Jervis, so Andrea went and told everybody. It was the worst day of my life. I thought I was gonna die. I wanted to switch schools or move to Antarctica and go live with the penguins, but my mom wouldn’t let me.
    Penguins are cool.
    â€œAre you boys ready for the big spelling test this afternoon?” Andrea asked.
    Oh no. I forgot all about the big dumb spelling test! How can I be expected to remember stuff over the weekend? Weekends are for having fun, not for studying for tests. I hate spelling.
    â€œDo you know how to spell ‘spelling,’ A.J.?” asked Andrea.
    â€œSure,” I said. “I-H-A-T-E-Y-O-U.”
    Michael and Ryan laughed.
    â€œI made my own spelling flash cards,” Andrea told us, “and I’m going to use them for Show and Share, too. Because spelling begins with an s .”
    I was going to tell Andrea that “stupid” also begins with an s and that’s what sheis, but I decided I would save that and use it the next time she really got me mad.

    Andrea turned around so she wasn’t facing us anymore. I picked up Striker Smith and pretended that he was going to attack the back of her head with his sword. It was hilarious. Michael and Ryan laughed. But Andrea turned around suddenly, before I could take Striker Smith away from her head.
    â€œThat’s a nice doll, Arlo,” she said.
    â€œIt’s not a doll!” I told her. “It’s an action figure!”
    â€œMy mother told me that action figures are dolls for boys,” said Andrea.
    â€œThey are not!” I said.
    â€œAre too!” said Andrea.
    We went back and forth like that for a while.
    â€œStriker Smith is a one-man wrecking machine,” I told Andrea. “He belongs to a secret organization of crime fighters. If Striker got into a fight with one of your dumb dolls, he would rip its head