Free The BEDMAS Conspiracy by Deborah Sherman

side. The loud sound of chatter told us the room was packed. I squeezed her hand tightly.
    The room went silent when Principal Bording took the stage. Everyone knew about Whitner’s principal. He was also known as Principal Boring. His monotonous speeches were legendary, even across town at Wilcott. Joe Jacobs once fell asleep at a basketball game when Principal Boring took twenty minutes to introduce his team. Teammates tried to shake Joe awake but he was snoring soundly. Finally, they threw a glass of water in Joe’s face to get him on the court before tip-off.
    Principal Boring was just warming up. “I would like to welcome everyone to Whitner Middle School and to the best talent competition in the city. We’ve got ten acts representing the various schools in the district tonight. The act that receives the loudest cheer will be crowned winner and will go on to compete in the City Championship. Tonight should offer a very respectable evening of music, dancing, camaraderie, and competition. Entertainment is a cornerstone of our society...”
    Blah, blah, blah . Somewhere in the auditorium, Joe Jacobs was probably struggling to keep his eyes open. At long last, Principal Boring finally left the stage. Game on!
    First up was a one-man band called Me, Myself and I. Me was a great singer, a good piano player, an average guitarist and a truly awful harmonica player. Next up was Style Over Substance, an all-boy band from Farmington Middle School. They took the stage looking awesome in coordinating green-and-blue track suits. They began with some fierce hip-hop moves. Sludge and I exchanged worried glances. We breathed a sigh of relief when they started to sing. They huffed and puffed into their microphones as they tried to keep up with their dancing. Third up was a group called the Equations singing an ode to their principal.
    â€œI guess every school’s gotta have one,” commented Sludge.
    Suddenly, the competition started to heat up. Heyward Elementary’s entry was a contortionist. She received a loud round of applause for twisting her feet behind her head and turning herself into a human pretzel. Two solid dance crews followed.
    A girl and boy who claimed to be plate spinners were next. They appeared on stage with four porcelain dishes and four rods. At first I thought they were going to build a campfire and roast marshmallows. Then the girl took the rods and balanced them in her hands. The boy took one of the plates and tossed it in the air. It landed on the girl’s rod, spinning away! They did this three more times until all of the plates were spinning in unison. The crowd clapped appreciatively. The girl threw all four plates up in the air and caught them on the rods. And they were still spinning! I had never seen anything like it before. The crowd clapped louder.
    It was almost time for Sick on a Snow Day to take the stage. We huddled together and watched the eighth act. It was a ten-piece band called Peanut Butter and Jam that came complete with a banjo, stand-up bass, saxophone, and bongo drums.
    â€œWhere’s the triangle?” sniffed Eldrick.
    PB and J played only one song—“Crunchy or Smooth ” —and they sounded tight. Everyone in the audience was on their feet and clapped along. PB and J was our stiffest competition yet. I wanted to give our band a last-minute pep talk but it was impossible to be heard over the deep thump of the bongos.
    PB and J wrapped up their performance to a standing ovation. Suddenly, we were about to take centrestage. For the first time, I could feel butterflies in my stomach. I prayed that my sweaty palms wouldn’t affect my piano playing. A strange shrieking noise vibrated from the back of the auditorium. We assumed it was feedback from the amplifiers and waited for the sound technician to fix it. But the wailing seemed to get louder. The Z’s adjusted their guitars but the noise persisted. I listened more closely. It